Livisss

obsessed with Henry Cavill fiction | 21y - Brazil/RS

[bluecarolina]

jax teller has killer hands (literally)

kinktober post seven: choking/hands

content: p in v sex, rough sex, choking, degrading names, fem!reader

It’s no secret that Jax loves his body. He’s not shy showing off his muscles, his tattoos, his scars. But your favourite part of his body? His hands.

His big, strong hands that can fix up a bike like it comes naturally. His hands that beat up his enemies. His fingers that pull triggers. Those same hands that bring violence also bring you pleasure.

Like right now - your legs are locked around Jax’s hips, your back pressed against the wall of your hallway as he snaps his hips against yours. One of his hands is braced against the plaster beside you, the other cups your jaw.

Jax grunts, slipping his thumb into your mouth. He doesn’t say anything, but it’s clear what he expects you to do. You suck, your tongue swirling around the digit as you moan. His hips stutter in their rhythm when he feels your pussy clench around his cock.

“Fuckin’ slut…” He growls, pulling his thumb from your lips with an audible ‘pop’. Jax drags his hand down to your neck, his long fingers wrapping around your throat. His rings are cold, pressing into your skin as he squeezes. You gasp, the air being stolen from your lungs in a way that has pleasure shooting through your veins.

Jax grins, squeezing a little tighter when he sees how much you like it. “Look at you… You like this, huh?” You don’t answer - can’t. Your walls flutter around his length, making him speed up even more. His thrusts are brutal now, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room as he pushes you to the edge. You come with a cry of his name, the sound broken. Jax groans as he follows, spilling inside you.

His hand finally releases your throat, panting as he watches you catch your breath. His fingers brush over the marks he’s left on your skin, a smug grin spreading across his lips. He did that, his hands.

And he’s damn proud of himself for it.

[slowburnsins]

“You Want To Cause A Scene?”

Jax x Reader

Summary: you get jealous and instead of taking your frustration out on Ima, you take it out on Jax

Warnings: rough sex, p in v, fingering, edging, punishment, light choking, minor hair pulling, smut, semi?violence but not really, cussing

You and Jax had been arguing all week.

Petty arguments that didn’t have a clean start or end. Sharp edges left over from bad days, from stress neither of you were handling well. You’d both been snapping easier, talking less, holding onto grudges longer.

You knew you were worn thin —sixteen-hour shifts in the maternity ward will do that. Babies crying, machines beeping, endless faces needing something from you. By the time you finally clocked out, your legs ached, your brain buzzed, and all you wanted was a shower and your bed.

But there was a party at the clubhouse tonight. Of course there was.

There was always something at the clubhouse.

Jax had asked you to come, and you said you would —even though you didn’t have it in you. You’d said it flatly, too, the fatigue bleeding through your voice. And you could tell it rubbed him wrong, because his sigh over the line was long and frustrated.

When he groaned, you snapped before you could stop yourself.

“What?”

“Nothin’.”

“No, go ahead, Jax. You clearly wanna say something.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice already rough with irritation. “Do we gotta fight about every damn thing lately?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, sorry, are you tired of fighting? Try pulling sixteen hours on your feet surrounded by screaming newborns, then maybe we’ll talk about being tired.”

He was silent for a moment, and you could hear him grinding his teeth on the other end. “If you don’t wanna come, then don’t.”

Your grip on the phone tightened. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, low and final. “Nobody’s makin’ you show up, so don’t go bitchin’ about it like I’m makin’ you do something you don’t want.”

You blinked, stunned for half a second. “Wow,” you said flatly. “Real nice, Jax. Real classy.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m done with this tonight,” he snapped, voice cutting clean through the static. “Go home, go to sleep, do whatever the hell you want. I’ll see you when you stop takin’ your bad days out on me.”

And before you could even respond, the line went dead.

You pulled the phone away from your ear, staring at the screen as if it might light back up. It didn’t.

The fury hit slow and hot, burning up your exhaustion until all that was left was pure anger.

He hung up on you.

You could still hear the tone of his voice in your head — that mix of irritation and finality that made it clear he wasn’t going to call back. The more you thought about it, the madder you got. He knew how hard this week had been. He knew. And instead of just giving you a little grace, he threw your bad mood right back in your face and hung up like it was nothing.

You were seething.

By the time you pulled into Teller-Morrow, your pulse was pounding. You didn’t even remember the drive from St.Thomas. The bikes were lined up out front, music already blaring through the open doors, the sound of laughter and glass clinking filling the air.

You sit in the car for a second, knuckles white around the steering wheel, forcing yourself to take a breath. You told yourself you’d just walk in, be civil, not start another fight.

But deep down, you had a feeling you knew how this was gonna go.

The air outside the clubhouse was thick with smoke and noise — laughter, shouting, the metallic clang of bottles against barrels. People you didn’t recognize were crowded around the fires, faces lit in flickers of orange, voices overlapping like static. Half-Sack was in the middle of the lot, swinging clumsy punches at some guy whose name you didn’t know and didn’t care to. The small crowd around them whooped and cheered, feeding off the chaos.

You just pushed through it, jaw tight, arms folded against the chill. Every step you took toward the clubhouse felt heavier, like your body was protesting right along with your mind. Sixteen hours on your feet, three cups of burnt hospital coffee, and Jax Teller hanging up on you — it was enough to sour your mood into something sharp and mean.

The second you stepped inside, it was worse.

The heat hit first — stale beer, smoke, and perfume mixing in the air thick enough to choke on. Music blasted from the corner speakers, the bass vibrating through the floorboards, making your already pounding head ache harder. People were shouting over it, laughing too loud, drinks sloshing as they moved. The place smelled like everything you didn’t have the energy for.

Your eyes swept the room automatically, scanning for that blond head, that kutte, that stupid smug face that had the nerve to hang up on you.

Nothing.

But you caught plenty else.

Chibs was sunk into a couch, mouth busy with a croweater in a too-tight top. Bobby was passed out on a pool table, snoring through the chaos like a damn lumberjack. And at the bar, Opie and Lyla were lined up doing shots, both of them grinning like idiots.

You stood there for a second, just watching. The sight made something twist inside you —not jealousy, exactly, just that bitter, exhausted resentment that came when everyone else seemed fine and you were one inch from snapping.

Lyla laughed at something Opie said, tossing her head back as she slammed another shot glass down. He smirked, and when his eyes flicked up and found you standing by the door, he grinned wider.

He lifted a hand, waving you over.

You didn’t move.

Your arms crossed tighter, nails digging into your own skin as if that could keep the anger from spilling out. The music thumped in your chest, someone brushed past you too close, and the combination of exhaustion and irritation was starting to feel unbearable.

You wanted to turn around, go home, crawl into bed, and forget all of it —the noise, the smoke, the fact that your husband thought hanging up on you was an acceptable way to end an argument.

But instead, you took a breath, squared your shoulders, and started walking toward the bar —every step louder and heavier than the one before, like it was fueled by pure stubbornness.

You make it to the bar and lean against it like it’s the only thing holding you up. The noise, the smell, the heat —it all presses in from every direction, and you can feel your pulse throbbing behind your eyes.

“Well, look who finally showed,” Opie says, that easy grin on his face.

You manage a tired half-smile, tugging your jacket off. “Yeah, miracle, right?”

Lyla grins at you, a little tipsy already. “You look exhausted, girl. Long day?”

You pull out the stool beside her and sink onto it like gravity’s doubled. “Something like that. The hospital was chaos. I think I forgot what sitting down felt like.”

“Then you definitely need a drink,” Lyla says, sliding the shot glass toward you.

You eye it but shake your head. “I’d fall asleep before a buzz could even hit.”

Opie chuckles, nursing his beer. “Probably not the worst idea in this crowd. You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

You glance around the room —the bodies pressed together, the smoke, the laughter that feels too loud. “You’re not wrong,” you mutter, tracing a finger through a ring of condensation on the counter.

He studies you for a second, that quiet, steady look of his. “Rough week?”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes. “Long one. I’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t push. Just hums, tipping his beer back for a slow sip. “You and Jax good?”

You pause just a beat too long. “Why?”

He shrugs, casual but not really. “Because he’s been a pain in the ass all damn day. Snapped at me twice over nothin’. Figured maybe you two were at odds.”

You lift an eyebrow, trying to sound unaffected. “So what, now you’re psychic?”

“Nah,” he says, smirking. “Just been around long enough to know when you two are rubbin’ each other the wrong way. His bad mood’s usually the echo of yours.”

“Where is he anyway?” you ask finally, trying to sound offhand.

“Last I saw him, he was helpin’ Juice haul in some cases of beer from the truck,” Opie says. “That was—hell, half an hour ago?”

You nod, looking toward the open doorway that leads to the lot. “Right.”

Lyla leans in slightly. “He’ll turn up. He always does.”

Your eyes keep scanning the crowd, searching for him through the haze of smoke and music. You don’t even know why —maybe anger, maybe habit, maybe because you’ve spent all damn week fighting with him and some part of you still needs to see him.

And then you spot him.

Leaning against the far wall, head tilted toward Juice, that easy grin on his face — the one that used to make you melt.

And right beside him, like clockwork, is Ima.

She’s laughing at something he says, all hair flips and fake eyelashes, standing so close her arm brushes his. You’re already tense before she even leans in. Then you watch her press a slow, deliberate kiss to his cheek —bright red lipstick staining his skin.

It feels like the air’s been punched out of you.

Your stomach sinks, then twists hard, anger hitting so hot it steals your breath. It’s not just the jealousy —it’s the exhaustion underneath it, the long shifts, the arguments, the way you’ve been running on fumes for days. The combination makes your throat burn, your eyes sting. You’re so furious you could cry, and you hate that feeling most of all.

Because when you’re that mad, that raw —nothing good ever comes of it.

Behind you, someone says your name. “Y/N.” Opie. His tone is careful, the way someone talks to a live wire. But you’re already standing, blood roaring in your ears.

Every muscle in your body’s wound tight, running on anger and no sleep. The sound of the music fades, the smell of beer and smoke thick in your lungs, and all you can see is Jax —your husband— standing there while she touches him like she’s earned the right.

You start walking before you even realize it.

“Hey,” Opie says, stepping forward, catching your arm. “Don’t do this here.”

You try to jerk free. “Move, Ope.”

He doesn’t. “You’re tired, you’re pissed—”

“Exactly. Now move before I make you.”

He gives you a look that’s half warning, half sympathy. “You’re gonna blow this up for nothin’.”

“Nothing?” The word scrapes out of you, low and sharp. “She’s got her hands all over my husband and you call that nothing?”

Lyla’s off her stool now, hovering. “Y/N, seriously, don’t—”

But it’s too late. You shove Opie’s chest — harder than you mean to —and he stumbles a step back. The motion makes heads turn, conversations falter. The entire room starts to quiet just enough that your pulse sounds louder than the music.

Across the room, Jax looks over, frowning. His eyes meet yours. There’s a split second where his expression changes —confusion first, then understanding, then that slow, bracing shift of his shoulders like he knows exactly what kind of storm he’s in for.

“Aw, hell,” Opie mutters, rubbing his jaw. He doesn’t even bother to stop you this time.

You’re already moving, fast, jaw clenched, hands trembling with fury. You can feel eyes on you as the crowd parts, giving you space —because no one with sense stands between you and what’s yours when you’re mad.

Jax straightens from the wall, hand dragging through his hair, his mouth tightening as you close the distance. He’s calm —too calm— and that almost makes it worse. Because you’re shaking, you’re hurt, and he’s just standing there like this is no big deal.

That look on his face?

That’s the final match to the fuse.

You don’t stop until you’re right in front of him —close enough to smell the smoke on his kutte, close enough to see that little crease between his brows that says he’s already preparing to argue.

Your eyes lock on his, full of heat and hurt and disbelief. You’re so mad you can barely breathe, but underneath the fury is that awful ache in your chest —the one that comes from loving someone too much and hating that they can still do this to you.

“What the hell is this, Jax?” you demand, your voice tight and trembling with anger. “You think this is funny? You think this is okay?”

He exhales through his nose, jaw flexing. “Y/N—”

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me,” you snap, stepping even closer, so there’s barely an inch between you. “You’ve got her hands all over you like you’re single, like you don’t have a wife, and you don’t get to tell me to calm down.”

Ima shifts beside him, still not moving — still too close.

That’s your breaking point.

You turn your head, eyes cutting to her so sharp she actually flinches. “You got about three seconds to move before I make you regret not doing it sooner.”

She scoffs, lifting her chin, too used to getting under people’s skin. “Maybe if you could keep your man happy—”

You don’t even let her finish. You take one hard step forward, voice dropping low and dangerous. “Finish that sentence, sweetheart. I dare you.”

Whatever she sees in your eyes makes her backpedal fast, hands lifting in surrender as she mutters something under her breath and disappears into the crowd.

But it doesn’t help. Because now all that fury —all that humiliation— has nowhere to go but at him.

Jax’s voice stays low, careful. “You’re makin’ a scene.”

You laugh —sharp, humorless. “Oh, I’m makin’ a scene? I wasn’t the one lettin’ some clubhouse whore kiss my damn cheek, Jax!”

The room’s gone dead quiet now. Even the music feels like background noise, swallowed up by the tension between you. You can feel everyone watching, but you don’t care —not this time.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he mutters, trying to keep his voice even. “Can we not do this here?”

“Where then?” you throw back. “Where do you wanna do this, huh? When I’m supposed to pretend I didn’t see that? Pretend you didn’t stand there and let her?”

“Nothing happened!” he snaps finally, his patience cracking. “She kissed my cheek, I pushed her off, that’s it—”

“Oh, I must’ve missed that part!” you fire back, voice rising. “Because what I saw was you smiling while she had her hands all over you like she had a damn right to!”

He runs a hand through his hair, pacing a half step, trying to keep his temper in check. “You’re not hearin’ me—”

“No, you’re not listening! You don’t get to disrespect me like that and then act like I’m the one out of line!”

You can feel your voice shaking now — with fury, with the weight of everything you’ve swallowed down for weeks. You hate that your eyes burn, that your throat feels tight, because this isn’t just anger anymore. It’s hurt. Real, deep hurt.

Jax steps forward suddenly, grip catching your arm before you can turn away. “Enough. We’re not doin’ this in front of everybody.”

You try to yank free, but he’s stronger, jaw tight, that Teller temper flickering just beneath the surface.

“Jax—”

He doesn’t let you finish.

He grabs you around the waist, lifts you clean off the ground, and slings you over his shoulder.

You gasp, furious, pounding your fists against his back. “Put me down, Jax!”

But he’s already moving, striding through the stunned, silent crowd, his voice low and controlled even as his jaw ticks with anger. “Not another word outta you ‘til we’re in the back.”

You can hear the murmurs starting behind you —the whispers, the shock— but you’re too mad to care. You’re still hitting his back, kicking, shouting for him to put you down as he strides quickly through the hallway and hauls you toward the back of the clubhouse.

When he finally shoves open the bathroom door and sets you down, the sound of it slamming shut echoes off the tile —sharp and final.

And when you turn to face him, chest heaving, hair wild, eyes bright with tears you refuse to let fall —he’s already looking right back at you, jaw tight, eyes dark.

The silence between you is louder than any shouting.

You both know this isn’t just about Ima anymore.

You’re pacing now —or trying to— your shoes scrape against the tile as you drag your hands through your hair, tugging hard at the roots just to keep from throwing something. You can still feel the heat in your face, the humiliation of every pair of eyes on you as Jax hauled you out of that room like a child.

“Are you outta your goddamn mind?” Jax’s voice hits hard, sharp, echoing in the small bathroom. He slams the door again for good measure, running both hands over his face before rounding on you. “You shove Opie in front of everybody, start screamin’ like a lunatic in the middle of the clubhouse, and for what? Because Ima kissed my cheek?”

“Don’t,” you warn, voice trembling. “Don’t make it sound like I overreacted—”

“You did overreact!” he snaps, stepping closer, his tone low and furious. “Jesus Christ, Y/N, I had that handled! You didn’t even give me two seconds before you lost your shit!”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you dig your fingers into your scalp again. “Handled? Is that what you call standing there while she hangs off you like some prize? You didn’t look like you were handlin’ much of anything, Jax.”

He exhales hard through his nose, trying to rein it in —that familiar move you’ve seen a hundred times when he’s seconds from losing his temper. “You think I wanted that? You think I liked that? You act like I invited her over, like I told her to—”

“I don’t care what you told her,” you cut in, voice cracking as you take a step toward him. “You didn’t stop her! You didn’t push her away, and you sure as hell didn’t think about how it’d look to me!”

His hands flex at his sides. He’s trying — barely —to stay calm. “You’re twisted up ‘cause you’re tired. You just got off a sixteen-hour shift—”

“Don’t you dare blame this on work!” you snap, pointing a finger hard into his chest. “I was tired, yeah. But you made me furious. You always do this—shut me out, then act surprised when I don’t just roll over and take it!”

Jax exhales sharply, runs a hand through his hair, and when he looks back at you his eyes are darker, rougher. “You think I liked hangin’ up on you? You were already spoilin’ for a fight. I figured I’d save us both the trouble.”

That hits like gasoline. “You hung up on me, Jax. You don’t hang up on your wife. You don’t tell me not to come if I don’t feel like it and then turn around and play bartender to Ima-fucking-cumdumpster while she kisses your cheek like she owns the place!”

His eyes flash, that mix of guilt and anger that makes your chest twist even harder. “I didn’t even see you come in, Y/N. You were supposed to be home sleepin’, not stormin’ into the clubhouse ready to pick a fight.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—” your voice drips with sarcasm. “—for thinkin’ maybe my husband wouldn’t be out here lettin’ some attention whore paw at him while I’m pulling sixteen-hour shifts just so we can keep the lights on at home.”

He throws up his hands, voice rising. “That’s not fair, and you damn well know it!”

You scoff, taking another shaky breath. You’re furious, but beneath the anger there’s something raw clawing at your chest —exhaustion, hurt, the kind that’s been building for weeks.

“I’m tired, Jax,” you say finally, the words quieter but no less sharp. “Tired of fightin’, tired of feelin’ like I’m the only one who gives a damn about us. And then I walk in here and see her—” you jab a finger toward the door “—touchin’ you like she’s got some kinda right, and you expect me to just stand there?”

He steps closer, eyes hard. “What I expect is for you not to humiliate me in front of the whole club.”

That stings more than you want it to. You flinch, just barely.

You meet his stare, voice low and shaking with anger. “You don’t get to talk to me about humiliation, Jax. Not when you let that bitch put her hands on you like I wasn’t even in the room.”

He opens his mouth, ready to fire back — but then he stops, hands flexing at his sides, jaw locked. He’s trying not to explode. You can see it — the restraint, the effort, the frustration.

For a second, neither of you says anything. The silence stretches, heavy with everything that’s gone unsaid for weeks. The only sound is your uneven breathing and the faint hum of music still pulsing from the main room.

Then Jax speaks again, quieter this time, though no less intense. “You think I don’t know you’re tired? You think I don’t see it every time you drag yourself home after those shifts? But you can’t come at me like that, darlin’. You can’t turn your bad day into a goddamn grenade and throw it at me.”

“You don’t get it,” you say finally, your voice low, shaking. “You never do. I’m holding everything together by a thread, and you’re just—” you gesture toward him, sharp and frustrated “—you’re acting like it’s not even falling apart.”

Jax’s jaw tightens. “That’s not fair.”

You bark out a short, bitter laugh. “Oh, please. You think I don’t know what’s fair? You come home when you feel like it, you don’t talk to me about half the stuff that’s goin’ on, and when I finally lose it—suddenly I’m the one who’s out of line.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps back, taking a step closer. “I said you can’t light me up every time life gets hard.”

You meet his eyes, the exhaustion behind your anger showing for the first time. “I wouldn’t have to light you up if you didn’t shut down every time I needed you.”

That lands. You can see it in the way his face shifts, just barely. But he won’t back down either.

“Christ, Y/N,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You think I don’t feel it too? The pressure, the club, the damn weight of tryin’ to keep this all together? You think you’re the only one breakin’ your back for this family?”

Something in you snaps. “Then why does it feel like I’m the only one showin’ up?”

That’s when he moves — closer, just enough that you have to tilt your chin up to keep eye contact. His voice drops, rough and restrained. “You really wanna do this right now?”

You laugh again, a sharp, joyless sound. “What, you suddenly don’t like it when someone calls you out?”

He exhales hard through his nose, fighting for patience, but you can see the flicker of fire behind his eyes. You’ve always been able to push him, and right now, you’re doing it without even trying.

You step in, close enough to feel the heat of him, your voice a near growl. “You don’t get to stand there actin’ like I’m just bein’ dramatic. You think because you’re Jax Teller, vice president, husband, father, fixer of everything—you get to decide how bad things are? How I’m allowed to feel?”

His gaze bores into yours, intense and unyielding, his jaw tightening with barely contained frustration. “You're twisting my words,” he growls low.

“Is that so?” you fire back, your palms slamming against his solid chest. The push isn't meant to injure—merely to force a slight retreat, and he stumbles back half a pace. “I've been yelling this exact bullshit at you for weeks now, and it's like you're deaf to every single syllable.”

“Y/N—“he starts, voice rough.

“Cut the 'Y/N' crap,” you hiss, thrusting your hands forward once more, colliding with his torso. “You don't have the right to—“

In that instant, his fingers clamp around your wrist—firm but not bruising, halting your momentum dead. The contact sends a jolt through the air, locking you both in place, breaths mingling in the charged silence.

The silence stretches, thick with unspoken fury, until his grip tightens just a fraction on your wrist. His eyes drop to your lips, then snap back up, dark and stormy. Before you can yank away, he surges forward, crashing his mouth against yours in a brutal kiss that tastes like rage and desperation.

You gasp into it, the sound swallowed by the force of his tongue shoving past your teeth, demanding entry. Your free hand fists in his shirt, pulling him closer even as you bite down on his lower lip—hard enough to draw a growl from deep in his chest. He doesn't pull back; instead, he retaliates, sucking your lip between his teeth and nipping sharply, the sting fueling the fire between you.

Anger boils over into something feral. You shove at him again, but this time it's to tear at the kutte slung over his shoulders. Your fingers hook into the leather, yanking it down his arms with a savage tug. He releases your wrist just long enough to shrug it off, letting it hit the floor in a heavy thud, his hands immediately returning to seize your hips.

The kiss turns savage, all teeth and tongue, breaths ragged as you claw at his flannel next. Buttons fly as you jerk the fabric apart with both hands, popping them free one by one until his chest is bare under your palms—hot skin stretched over hard muscle. He groans into your mouth, the vibration rumbling through you, and his fingers dig into your sides, bruising in the best way.

He backs you up, guiding you with unyielding pressure toward the wall, but then pivots at the last second, steering you instead to the counter beside the full-length mirror. Your ass hits the edge, and he lifts you effortlessly, pinning you there with the weight of his body. The mirror reflects it all—the wild tangle of your mouths, his shirt hanging open, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist to pull him flush against you.

His hands roam up your sides, rough and possessive, while yours rake down his back, nails scraping over his skin. The anger hasn't faded; it's transformed, pouring into every clash of lips, every grind of his hips against yours, building the heat until you're both lost in the storm.

His mouth devours yours, the kiss a battlefield of bites and sucks, as his hands fumble with the buckle of his belt. The metal clinks sharply, then his fingers yank the zipper down, shoving his jeans and boxers to his thighs in one frantic motion. His cock springs free, thick and hard, slapping against your inner thigh through the thin barrier of your scrub pants.

You arch against him, a desperate whine escaping your throat, but he doesn't waste time on teasing. His hands claw at your scrub top, gripping the collar and ripping it downward with a sharp tear of fabric. The material shreds easily, exposing your tank top clinging to your sweat-damp skin, your bra straps peeking out. Cool air hits your bare arms, but the heat from his body chases it away as he tosses the ruined top aside.

Your pants are next—his fingers hook into the waistband, yanking them down your legs along with your underwear in a rough pull that has you lifting your hips to help. The fabric drags over your skin, pooling at your ankles before he kicks them off entirely. Now you're bare from the waist down, your pussy exposed and slick, aching for him as your legs hook tighter around his hips.

He grabs your thighs, spreading them wider, and hoists you fully onto the counter's edge. The cold surface bites into your ass, but you barely register it over the pounding of your heart. His eyes lock on yours, wild and unyielding, before he lines himself up. With one brutal thrust, he drives his cock into you, stretching your walls in a single, deep plunge that forces a guttural moan from your lips.

The pace is merciless from the start—fast, slamming hips against hips, his length pistoning in and out with wet, obscene slaps. Your breaths come in harsh pants, mingling with his ragged grunts, the sounds echoing off the mirror behind you. You can't hold back the cries spilling from your mouth, each one sharper than the last as he fucks you harder, his hands gripping your ass to pull you onto him with every snap of his pelvis.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving red trails down his back, while his teeth graze your neck, sucking marks into your skin. The counter rattles under the force, your body jolting with each rough entry, pleasure coiling tight and feral in your core as the anger fuels the frenzy between you.

"Louder," Jax growls through gritted teeth, his voice rough and commanding.

"W-we need to be quiet," you whimper, your words dissolving into a high-pitched squeak as pleasure rips through you.

"You want to cause a scene? Huh? You want to get mad at me, yell at me in front of the entire club? Then let them hear your screams, darlin'."

Your body bounced against the wall with each powerful thrust, Jax's cock plunging deep into your soaked pussy, the friction building that delicious ache deep in your core. You gasped, trying to form words amid the haze of pleasure, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled his face closer.

"Jax... I was pissed because... ah! Because I missed you.. I just felt disconnected," you panted, your voice breaking as he ground his hips in a slow circle, his tip nudging your g-spot. "I’m sorry. It felt like... like you were shutting me out. And then to see her kiss your cheek, I lost it."

His eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind the lust as he slammed into you harder, the slap of skin on skin pulsing in your eardrums. Your breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hardening from the rough friction, while your thighs quivered around him, holding on for dear life.

"I don’t know how many times I have to tell you— I. Fucking. Hate. Her," he barked, his voice a low snarl that vibrated through you. He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust, his hand sliding from your thigh to pinch your clit, sending sparks exploding behind your eyelids. "That bitch means nothing to me. She's just a desperate whore who can’t find dick without getting paid for it. She’s always trying to stir shit up. But you? You so much as look at me and my dick twitches. You're mine. Why can’t you get that through your pretty fuckin’ skull?"

He captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, teeth nipping your lower lip as he fucked you faster, his balls tightening against your ass with every drive. The possessiveness in his tone only fueled the fire between your legs, your walls clenching around his thick length, milking him as you teetered on the brink.

A sharp cry tore from your throat as Jax yanked his cock free from your clenching pussy, the sudden emptiness leaving you throbbing and desperate, your inner walls fluttering around nothing. Your body slumped against the wall, legs trembling, the edge of release hovering just out of reach like a cruel tease. All you could hear was your ragged breathing and the wet slickness between your thighs where his cum-smeared shaft now bobbed, hard and unrelenting.

“You wanna act like a brat?” Jax snaps, his voice laced with that dark amusement that always makes your stomach twist in the best-worst way. He stepped back just enough to let the cool air hit your exposed folds, heightening the ache, his hand still gripping your hip like he owned every inch of you—which he did.

You stared at him, stunned, your chest heaving as the denied orgasm coiled tighter in your gut. He’d never just... stopped. Not like this, not when you were seconds from shattering around him. “You’re joking, right?” you snapped, the words sharp despite the whine creeping into your tone, your hands gripping his shoulders as if you could pull him back inside you.

His smirk widened, predatory and unyielding, those piercing blue eyes locking onto yours while he stroked his glistening cock lazily, right in front of you. The motion made your mouth water even as frustration boiled over. “You earned this, sweetheart,” he drawled, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his free hand trailing up your side to cup one breast, thumb flicking your nipple hard enough to make you arch. “This is how ungrateful brats get treated. My old lady should know I’d never have eyes for anyone else.”

He pinched your nipple again, twisting just shy of pain, sending jolts straight to your neglected clit. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily toward him, chasing the friction he’d so ruthlessly denied. The possessiveness from earlier still hung in the air, mixed now with this edge of punishment that had your pulse racing. Jax’s hatred for Ima, his claim on you—it all fueled this game, turning jealousy into something raw and electric.

One of his hands was fisted in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your neck, while the other slid between your legs, fingers delving into your dripping slit. He pumped two digits inside you roughly, curling them to hit that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes, but it wasn’t enough—not compared to his cock stretching you wide.

“Beg for it,” he demanded, his breath hot against your skin, teeth grazing your shoulder before biting down, marking you as his. “Tell me how sorry you are for doubtin’ me, for yelling like a jealous little slut. Or I’ll leave you like this—pussy aching, tits out, dripping for everyone in the clubhouse to smell.”

He’d never given you a reason to doubt his loyalty before, so maybe you deserved the humiliation of him leaving you whiny and pathetic. Honestly you felt horrible realizing how all week you’d been taking all your frustration out on him, when he was probably dealing with double the stress you were.

“Please, Jax. I need you. Stop joking.” You say leaning your face up to kiss him but he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” The smirk on his face was cruel. He was punishing you for your actions, willing to push you to the brink. Waiting for you to admit you were wrong.

“Touch me, please.” You whined louder, hips bucking up to find some sort of friction. You were aching, desperate for release, your clit throbbing. “I’m sorry for doubting you, for acting like a jealous slut.”

“That’s right darlin’.” He murmured, his lips kissing slowly down the side of your neck, forcing a whine to fall from your parted lips. “You should be sorry, huh?”

You nod, submitting.

Jax pulls away from you, tucking his hard cock back in his boxers, and tugs up his jeans, refastening his belt.

You frown in confusion.

“Good, you can show me how sorry you are when we get home. Get your clothes on.”

You’re stunned, but also slightly more turned on by the bite in his orders.

He looks at you expectantly, “I’m not gonna repeat myself darlin’.”

You rush to adjust your tank top and bra, recovering your breasts, and you frown at the scrub top he’d ripped, but don’t say anything. You pull your panties back up along with your scrub pants and stand there waiting for his next instruction.

“When we go out there you’re gonna apologize to Opie, then I’m gonna take you home, you’re gonna get on your knees, and you’re going to do everything I tell you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.” You say, anticipation bubbling in your gut.

“Yes, what?” He snaps.

“Yes, sir. Anything you want.”

He bites his lip before smirking, “Good girl. Now, come on. Let’s get out of here so I can show my wife how much she really means to me.”

Not my first time writing smut, but definitely my first time posting it. So if it’s horrible please let me know so I can save myself the embarrassment 😅😭 feedback is welcome!

[bellaxgiornata]

That gifset of Charlie in bed…. Jax waiting for you to get ready for dinner on your honeymoon 😛

ANON!! OMG! So I went back to look through the gifset of those again (because why not), and then I was going to just answer in agreement with you until my brain was like WAIT. And then, I have no idea what happened, I apologize, but this random smutty thing for Jax fell out of me afterwards 🤭

Late for Dinner

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 1,045 [Jax Fic Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; husband!Jax, smut, oral f!receiving, semi-possessive Jax, brief spanking

Summary: Jax gets impatient waiting for you to get ready for dinner.

“Babe, c'mon,” Jax called from the bed. “You been in there forever. How much longer you gonna be, huh?”

Pausing with the mascara brush hovering just in front of your lashes for an extra coat, you stared at your reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror. You rolled your eyes at his interruption, attempting to finish getting ready for dinner tonight as a soft huff fell past your lips.

“Even on our honeymoon,” you said, speaking loud enough for your voice to carry to the other room, “you're still impatient as hell, Jackson!”

“‘Cause I'm hungry as fuck,” he called back, a playful lilt creeping into his words between the frustration. “And you've been in there for almost twenty goddamn minutes now, Mrs. Teller.”

Your hand nearly swiped the mascara wand up into your eyebrows at the way he'd emphasized your new name. He’d said it the same way he'd been growling it into your flesh since you'd both checked into the hotel last night–gravel laced in temptation and sin. Every utterance of that name against your skin since you'd taken your vows yesterday had felt like a brand from his lips, one reminding you of just who you belonged to now.

Feeling your body temperature begin to rise, you slipped the mascara wand back into the container and set it onto the bathroom counter. You tried to focus on the relaxing meal planned for tonight with Jax–the one without any club drama to interfere–instead of all the ways he'd taken you in the less than twenty-four hours since you’d been here. 

Blowing out a soft breath, you tried to chase those thoughts away for now, but as your bare feet padded out of the bathroom, you stopped dead at the sight of him laying in the hotel bed. The sheets were still messed from everything you'd both been doing in it for the duration of the day, but the way Jax was laying there tore the breath from your lungs.

The second you’d stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes drifted towards you, his head casually relaxing against the satin, olive headboard behind himself. One finger was brushing over his lips in an impatient fidget, but it halted at your sudden appearance. A slow, lazy smirk pulled one corner of his lips upwards behind his finger as his eyes began to deliberately trail over you standing there in the sundress you'd thrown on for dinner. 

Heat crept up your neck as he took in the sight of you, his stare like the slow drag of his calloused hands on your body as his gaze rested on the visible swell of your chest before tracing down your bare legs. Standing there with your own breath turning shallow, you took in the sight of him on the bed, your heart thrumming in your throat. His blue button down was undone far too low to not have been intentional, the chain of his necklace with the bullet sitting innocently along his exposed skin. His other ringed hand sat on the top of his thigh over his jeans, but you saw the faint twitch of his fingers along the denim.

“Damn, baby,” he said, finger still resting over his lips as he remained where he lay. “Just fuckin’ look at you. Prettiest goddamn girl, and she's mine.”

Biting your bottom lip, you tried to fight back the smile threatening to surface at his compliment. But Jax caught it, his smirk only growing wider.

Lifting the hand from off his thigh, his fingers summoned you towards him with a quick flick. “C'mere,” he ordered.

“Jax,” you began, his name a warning. But you obliged, walking across the room towards him. “We need to get to the restaurant, remember?”

His tongue slipped out between his lips as he finally sat up in the bed, your eyes catching the teasing way it ran along the length of his bottom one. That's when you knew–you weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

“Well, now I'm hungry for somethin’ else, baby,” he husked low. 

He was on his feet beside the bed, hands sliding under your sundress and gripping the waistband of your panties, before you even registered his movements. His blue eyes locked onto yours as he dragged the thin fabric slowly down your thighs, his own body sinking to the floor as he did.

“Turn around,” he ordered low, chucking your new white lace panties over his shoulder without breaking eye contact, “and bend over the bed, Mrs. Teller.”

Already feeling yourself getting worked up all over again despite the fact you’d both just fucked in the shower before trying to get ready for dinner, you turned around to face the bed. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you lifted it up before you bent over the hotel bed, flashing Jax your bare ass and a cheeky smile over your shoulder.

A sharp smack followed right after, the sound ringing out in the hotel room as the sting pleasantly bloomed over your left ass cheek. A soft, surprised gasp fell out of you, your fingers curling tighter around the fabric of your dress still hiked over your hips. When Jax's hands both grabbed their fill of your ass, you fell face first towards the bed as he spread them open. A deep, satisfied hum rumbled out behind you as Jax appreciatively took in the view in front him, your eyelids fluttering shut at the noise. 

“Yeah,” he murmured to himself like he was proud. “That’s my fuckin’ pussy right there.”

His words were followed by the delicious rasp of his beard between your legs, and then his tongue slid its way through your folds and found your entrance. With your cheek pressed into the messy hotel sheets beneath you, you groaned out quietly as his tongue lapped up the growing slickness seeping out of you. 

Body sinking into the mattress, you gave into Jax as thoughts of dinner plans faded entirely from your mind. You couldn't even focus on hunger with the way Jax's face was buried in your pussy like it was the only one that ever mattered, his hands still gripping fistfuls of your ass and keeping it spread apart while he ate you out like you were the meal he craved.

Jax Teller one shot tag list: @kmc1989 @steviebbboi @bear-ink @secretlysamcro @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @bonnyclydecat @nutellajade @aria725 @f1samcro @kaydallas21 @nialiuwanderlust @sarraa-26 @uknowmesstuff @mmarysha @orymgraves @snowtargaryen @the-jer-bear @simonsbluee @bonni-98 @chloe-skywalker @sabrixna @anonymouse1807 @tendertulip @thoughtfullyfurryangel @empathyroad @puffins-muffins @staley83 @xx-lostgirl-xx @menofletters-and-mayhem @daphnen21 @grimhollowbaby @samwinchesterisawhore @rebelwrites @stevie75 @wittyogredemon @avengersfan25

[navybrat817]

Jax Teller fan? I want to sit on his face.

Me, too, nonnie. Me, too. 🫠

Take a Seat

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female Reader

Summary: Jax wants you to take a seat.

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Established relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), implied unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), pet name (baby), mild dirty talk, Jax Teller (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Just another rambling Sex(y) Saturday thot I wanted to share. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

But just imagine.

Jax laying back on the bed once both of your clothes are tossed away, his muscles rippling and his smile lazy. He’s a vision and he knows it. “Take a seat,” he rumbles, tapping his lips twice.

You freeze. It isn’t a statement. It’s a command. But your mind and pussy aren’t in agreement with what you should do. “Not sitting on your face,” you mumble.

Desire isn’t the issue. You’re wet, and you have been since he dragged you to the bedroom, your lips still swollen from his kisses. But sitting on his face? You’ll smother him.

The flash in his cerulean eyes tell you, however, that your answer is the wrong thing to say.

“I said…” You shriek when he grabs your thighs and positions you over his face. You grip the headboard and try your best to hover, but your legs shake when his fingers dig in. “Take a fucking seat.”

“You won’t be able to breathe!” You almost choke when his tongue darts out to taste you, your legs burning the more you fight it. “Jax, let me just bounce on your cock.”

You’ll happily take a seat on his big dick and ride it like your life depends on it.

He chuckles, the vibration combined with the scratch of his beard making you whine. “Baby, if your pussy is the thing that kills me, I’ll die a very happy death,” he tells you in a seductive purr, flicking your clit. You can’t resist much more. “And you’ll ride my cock after you ride my face.”

You bite your lip hard. “Pinch my thigh twice if you can’t breathe.”

“Like I give a fuck about breathing when I’m indulging in my pussy,” he says almost to himself. “Sit.”

The single word comes out in a snarl, and your fight melts away. You feel his rings dig into your thigh once you finally sink down, grounding him and not pinching you. He practically growls against your folds and begins to eat like you’re his last meal, your head falling back.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and he moans in agreement. You wish you could pull his hair or see his eyes, but you don’t need to to know he’s in his personal sort of heaven. “Please.”

Your body writhes in bliss as his tongue plunges deep, surrendering to the need in both of you. A small part of you still worries if he can breathe, but he’s too busy feasting on you to care. He once said you were divine, like the taste and feel of your pussy was made just for him. You believe it because no one else can do what he does.

Not that he’d let you find out. He isn’t inclined to share you, and you don’t want him to. Why would you want another man when you have Jax Teller demanding that you sit on his face?

“Jax! There! Right there!” you cry when he adds two fingers, your hand coming up to play with your breasts. They ache, wishing his hands and mouth were on them. They would be soon enough.

Every lick and thrust is deliberate, his fingers and tongue sinful and worshipful. He devours you, grunting as your hips move up and down. He encourages you to keep riding him as your orgasm builds. You’re going to make a mess all over his face, and you want to.

He pulls his tongue out long enough to rasp, “Come for me.”

You do, gripping the headboard again as your orgasm rips through you. You’re vaguely aware of him groaning as your wetness coats his mouth and chin, and he licks up everything he can. Your body is still shaking when he moves you down his body, his face shining and his smirk enough to heat you up all over again.

“See, baby? Didn’t smother me,” he points out, guiding you over his cock. “Now take a seat again. I know my greedy pussy needs my cock.”

You smile, your head still spinning. “You cocky son of a-”

He drives his hips up as he pulls yours down, both of you moaning as you stretch around him. “Be good and ride me.”

How can you say no to that?

Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

[kuttesandknives]

DEVOUR

pairing: jax teller x female reader setting: pre-canon, before wendy. late 2000s. they're texting on a flip phone okay. warnings: nsfw, 18+. sexting. oral, p in v sex. breeding kink, possessive behavior, power dynamics (consensual) words: 1.4k a/n: thanks to @daryldixonpls for the inspo on how this post is formated. decided on trying something a little bit different this time around. honestly this entire fic is inspired by a tiktok video i came across. given this is set in the late 2000s, emoji's are not a thing BUT in terms of funsies here, i used them just once to add to the ambiance. they're not mentioned though, if that makes sense lol. enjoyyy. ps: i did not proofread this and i also wrote it in like 2 hours' time, so... tag list: @daryldixonpls @bellaxgiornata @laurfilijames @tinyshyteacup @secretlysamcro @slowburnsins @rideandruin @tragicalkindredsamcro (if i forget anyone else please let me know!!)

Jax stared at the text longer than he should’ve. Parked behind the wheel of an unmarked black van on the edge of Charming, he was supposed to be watching the road and not his phone. One of Unser’s trucks was headed out to Nevada, and with theft spiking along the route, SAMCRO had stepped in to babysit. Call it private security. Call it paying back a favor. Either way, his eyes weren’t where they should be.

His eyes shifted once up to the empty road ahead and then back to the phone burning a hole in his hand.

YOU: Can I trace the veins with my tongue, baby?

Normally, he'd laugh and text back something filthy or smug, because that's just how they played. She'd flirt, he'd bite, they'd find a way to meet up later and burn it out of their systems. That's the way it'd always been.

But today had been absolute shit. One of the guys had been picked up on some bullshit warrant. Gemma had been stirring the pot again, constantly dropping blatant hints that she wanted Jax to have some babies. Clay was being a dickhead, like usual. Tig was kissing Clay's ass, following him around like some lovesick puppy.

He began typing out a response.

JAX: Where you at?

Admittedly, you frowned at his text. Not from sadness but the ripple of disappointment. It was lacking the usual filth that you'd become spoiled with any time the two of you had a round of sexting together.

YOU: Your house.

For a moment, you paused and contemplated sending the second portion as you tipped back a shot of whiskey. Then, you typed it out because... fuck it, right?

YOU: You cranky today or what?

Jax glanced down the second his phone buzzed, brows furrowing. He glanced up again, watching as Unser's truck left the warehouse lot without a hitch, then back down to your text message.

JAX: No. I'm just trying to not blow my fuckin' load right now.

Your hand tightened slightly around the spare key that'd been swirling around the corner as you waited for him to show some sort of zest in the conversation. That fuckin' response did it, made your stomach flip and your thighs clench.

Here you were, in his fuckin' house surrounded by Harley memorabilia and his bourbon, causing the prince of Charming to almost bust a nut clear across county lines.

YOU: Yeah, don't. I want to swallow it. 🍆💦

Jax could've left two minutes ago, but he was still parked on the side of the road, toothpick perched between his lips as he ground his molars.

JAX: Nah. I'm fucking that pussy and cumming inside it. You want to taste something? You can taste it leaking out of you after.

He hit send and tossed the phone into the cupholder, then put the van in drive and drove straight to his place. Usually, he'd detour at Charming to drop off the van and then ride home in his bike, but he had other pressing matters to tend to.

She barely had time to turn around in the kitchen before Jax was inside. His hoodie was half-zipped, jeans hanging low, jaw set like he hadn’t taken a full breath in hours.

“Jax-”

“Shut up.”

His voice was low and dangerous. Not angry but definitely wound tight. His blue eyes swept over her body like it pissed him off how much he wanted her, like every breath she took was one more second that he had to wait.

He kicked the door shut with his boot and stalked toward her; every step measured like he was keeping himself from snapping. The air shifted.

“You wanna send me texts like that?” he asked, eyes locked on your mouth. “You wanna say shit, like you’re gonna trace the veins with your tongue?”

You swallowed. Heat bloomed low in your belly, stumbling to formulate a coherent response. “I-”

He grabbed her chin, tilting her face up hard enough to make her gasp. “Nah. No backing out now. Get on your knees.”

Her legs moved before her brain did, knees hitting the hardwood just as he tugged his belt open with one hand.

“You don’t get to tease me all day and not back it up.” He pulled himself free, thick and already aching hard, tip flushed. “You wanna trace something?”

He stepped forward, cock right in front of your face now, and let out the softest, filthiest groan when your breath hit it.

“Then fuckin' trace,” he growled. “Start with the vein running up the side. You know the one.”

You did. You leaned in, tongue dragging slow and deliberate from the base up along that thick line of pressure, and his hand fisted in your hair immediately, hips twitching forward on instinct.

“Fuck. That’s it.”

His voice cracked around the edge, throat tight like he was holding something back. Like letting go too soon would ruin him and the filthy reputation he'd built up until this point.

“Yeahhhh… just like that. Make me regret not burying it in you first.”

Your tongue moved slow, tracing that thick vein like you promised you would. You felt his hand twitch against the top of your head where his hand rested now, all while a low groan escaped his mouth.

You hollowed your cheeks, and you took him deeper, just to prove you could. That about made him come undone completely, voice stuttering for a moment, the kind that cracked him open just enough. His breath quickened, his hips bucked forward as he clenched his hand around the counter.

You gagged just once, eyes fluttering as you looked up at him with more determination, and then you repeated the same movement again, swallowing his entire cock with ease this time around, causing that same vulnerable whimper to leave him.

His head had tipped back now just for a split second, hand bunching around your hair while his hips bucked forward again. He was on the verge of an orgasm, you could feel it. The way his cock throbbed against the roof of your mouth, the way his thigh clenched right where your hands rested. Your mouth got him worked up twice in one night and that, that was a badge of honor you'd wear with the utmost pride.

It's like he could sense the fucking pride behind your tongue. The second you backed off and glanced up at him with tear pricked eyes, intending on taking him in your mouth again.

He grabbed your arm and yanked you up to a standing position, putting a halt to your plan. He crashed his mouth with yours, all tongue, teeth, and amicable frustration now. Your ass hit the counter and you think he's going to take you right there, but instead, he growls against your mouth.

"Bedroom. Now."

You took a few steps, but he was already behind you, hand wrapping around your wrist to tug you faster, guiding you straight through the hallway.

He shoved the bedroom door open and kicked it shut with his boot.

You turned to face him, but before you could speak, he was on you again, hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he lifted you like it was nothing and dropped you onto the mattress.

“You think you can just say shit like that?” he said, crawling over you, his necklace dangling low between you as he settled between your thighs. “Send me those texts."

You smirked, breath catching. “Maybe I like getting you worked up.”

He scoffed, hand gripping your jaw. “Yeah? Then you better take what you started.”

And then he was there. Inside you in one long, slow push that had your eyes rolling back. No warning, no teasing this time. Just thick and deep and hot, his forehead pressed to yours as he held still for a second, barely breathing.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, dragging his hips back just to sink in again, deeper. “You feel that? That’s mine. You’re mine.”

You whimpered, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.

He kissed you then but not in a hurry like before. This one was deeper. Heavier. Like he needed it.

“You said that you wanna swallow me,” he whispered against your mouth, “but I’m gonna fill you up instead. Gonna come so deep you’ll be leaking by the time I’m done.”

He started moving. Slow, purposeful strokes that had your hands clutching the sheets, his name falling from your lips over and over.

“Say it again,” he grunted, pace building. “Say what you want.”

“I want you to come inside me,” you breathed, voice trembling. “Please, Jax.”

That did it.

He buried himself to the hilt and stayed there, hips grinding deep as he came. Hard, low groans spilling from his chest as he gave it to you, everything he’d been holding in since you sent that damn text.

gif credit: @/blackthornluce, divider credit: @/cafekitsune

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Daddy kink with Jax, him catching you waiting up for him after a late night with the club, wearing nothing but his shirt in the kitchen. Also can it be the first time you call him daddy and he’s absolutely intrigued.

Sitting Pretty.

unspoken desires can only stay unspoken for so long.

jax teller x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. daddy kink. jax is somehow so degrading but so loving at the same time.

a/n - YEEEEEEEEEAH. murphy writing a daddy kink… who would’ve thought they’d see the day. anyway i’d call this man anything he wanted me to x

masterlist. inbox.

It’s a bad habit, the waiting up.

He tells you not to do it. Says honey, I don’t want to keep you awake. I’ll just come to bed when I get home in that gruff voice of his. He uses that persuasive tone, the one that makes you weak at the knees. I don’t know what time I’ll be back, baby. I don’t want to keep you up.

And yet, you do it anyway.

You occupy your time with tv shows, movies, books. Cleaning, tidying, cooking. Anything that’ll keep your mind from racing, wondering what Jax is doing, what the club are talking about, if they’re in trouble yet again.

But there’s none of that tonight. Tonight, you’re sat on the couch in nothing but a t shirt that belongs to your boyfriend, staring into empty space. All because you can’t stop thinking about something that happened this morning.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The glass had slipped from your hand before you could stop it, shattering all over the clubhouse floor. A chorus of patronising but amused sounds echoed around you, coming from all of the guys sat at the table.

Jax jumps up from his seat immediately, standing up to see if you’re alright.

“Ooo, Daddy’s disappointed.”

The quip has come from Tig, to no one’s surprise. You look up from your knees to see that actually, Jax doesn’t look disappointed. There’s a sparkle in his eye that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s mischief and curiosity and self satisfaction all at once.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s replayed in your head all day.

That damn look in his eye.

At first, you thought that maybe it was because you were on your knees on the ground. He’s been very vocal about how he will never, ever, get sick of the sight of you staring up at him.

But the more you think about it, the more there’s no denying that the twinkle in his eye appeared when Tig had called him Daddy. Or maybe you’re just convincing yourself to twist the situation to fit the fantasies that swirl around in your head day in, day out.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t hear the side door open, footsteps rumbling across your kitchen floor.

“Baby, what have I told you about waiting up?”

“Hey,” you breathe, always happy to see him. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Too busy daydreamin’,” he observes, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “Wish I could read your mind.”

“You don’t,” you laugh, securing your arms over his to squeeze him tight. “It’s not very interesting.”

He smells like gasoline and smoke, all musky and masculine. The scent of him drives you insane, like some sort of instant aphrodisiac designed just for you.

“Missed ya,” he whispers in your ear, pressing his body into yours. “Been thinking about you all day. Was secretly hoping you’d be sittin’ all pretty for me when I got back. And here you are, wearing nothing but my shirt, lookin’ like a goddamn angel.”

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What did I do to deserve a sweetheart like you, huh?”

You hum, leaning back into the firm warmth of him.

“Now tell me, my little daydreamer… what have you been thinking about?”

His hands migrate from your waist, skimming up your body so they’re massaging your tits.

“Just you,” you breathe. “Always you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He’s hot and heavy against your back, grinding his hips into your ass to relieve some of the friction that’s driving him insane.

One of his hands winds it way around your neck, squeezing ever so gently to make you even dizzier. His other hand is slipping under his shirt that you’re wearing to cup you over your panties, his middle finger swiping along the seam to feel how wet you are.

“You’re fuckin’ soakin’,” he groans, all deep and raspy. “Fuck, you’re nothing but a desperate whore after midnight. Sittin’ here, thinking about all the things you want me to do to you when I get home…”

You seem to have lost your words, rendered speechless as you buck your hips to try and get him where you want him.

“What d’ya want, baby? Tell me.”

“Fingers,” you choke. “Please.”

He whips your panties down your legs before you can even process it, kicking your ankles apart to give him better access. His fingers are dragging through your core in an instant, gathering your slick and sliding right in without any protest.

Jax curls his digits and buckles your knees as he does it, while you grip onto the countertop for dear life.

“Right there? Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Filthy girl. Filthy fuckin’ girl.”

All you can do is whine, panting for breath as he slides his fingers in and out, his pace utterly relentless.

“Oh, baby. Can you feel it dripping down your legs? Can you feel it soakin’ my hand? My favourite little whore. Just can’t think straight when I’m touchin’ you, can ya?”

He’s rasping the words right into your ear, his breath tickling your neck and giving you instant goosebumps.

“Jax.”

“Atta girl. Say my name, darlin’. Let everyone know who you belong to.”

You’re not sure if it’s the way he’s curling his fingers, or the honeyed words he’s rasping down your ear, or the fact that he’s claiming you as his so brazenly that it makes you dizzy, but it slips off your tongue before you can even think about stopping it.

“Daddy.”

His movements halt completely, both of you frozen in place. You figure if you don’t move a muscle or make a sound, he’ll carry on like nothing occurred in the first place.

That doesn’t happen.

Instead, Jax pulls you flush to his body, plastering you to his chest. One hand is still in between your legs, the other one tightening its grip around your throat. He’s panting like he’s run a marathon, body vibrating with animalistic need.

“Oh honey… what was that?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, smart girl.”

You shrug, which is the wrong move entirely.

“Nuh uh, you ain’t getting away that easy. Repeat yourself, baby. Tell me what you said.”

You’re still hesitating, reluctant to potentially embarrass yourself. Jax dips his head so his mouth his resting against your ear, teeth nipping at that spot on your neck he knows makes you weak.

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Daddy,” you breathe, somewhat relieved to not have to bottle it up anymore. “Fuck, daddy.”

“That’s my girl,” he purrs, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “That’s my fucking girl.”

His hand that was around your neck twists itself into your hair as his other hand pushes you firmly between your shoulder blades, bending you over the kitchen counter. He kicks your ankles apart, folding himself right over you.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you now, pretty girl. Gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anyone’s name but mine.”

Both of you groan when he slides inside with no resistance. You grip the edge of the countertop for stability, knowing you’ll fly over it if you don’t hold on.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven. A filthy fucking angel.”

“Jax,” you choke. “You feel so good.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your head before setting a brutal pace with his hips, his pelvis slamming into your ass with every thrust. It takes everything in you to stay upright, knees buckling every time he pulls back and re enters.

“All mine,” he growls as he tugs your hair so your back arches. “Who do you belong to, hmm?”

“You,” you manage to squeak out. “You.”

“Hmm? Who?”

“You, Jax.”

“Say that again?”

“You, daddy. Fuck.”

“There it is. Perfect girl.”

He’s changed his angle ever so slightly to tilt his hips upwards, meaning he’s hitting exactly the right spot every time he slams into you. You’re dizzy with it, overwhelmed in the best way, gasping for air as your climax gets closer and closer.

“You wanna come? Yeah?”

All you can do is nod your head frantically, desperate for the release that’s been building up all day.

“Ask for it. Beg me like the whore you are.”

“Please,” you instantly start babbling. “Please, Jax. Want it, please.”

“So polite,” he laughs, tone dripping with condescension. “That’s not what I want to hear though, and you know it.”

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to think straight for one minute.

“Please let me come, daddy.”

That’s all he needs. He pulls his hand from your hair and slides it down your front, rubbing quick and firm circles on your clit to throw you over the edge. It does the trick instantly, your legs turning to jelly as your head tilts back and your back arches. Your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave, uncontrollable and all consuming in the best way.

You’re squeezing him so tight that Jax can’t hold on any longer, coming inside you with a deep groan that rumbles through both of your bones.

All that can be heard is two sets of lungs heaving for air, both of you half collapsed on the cool wood of the countertop. Jax wraps his arms around you, cushioning the impact as he hooks his foot around your ankle to take you both down to the ground. You melt against him on the kitchen floor, revelling in the warmth of his body against the cold bite of the tiles. Your boyfriend presses a kiss to your hair, fingertips tracing absent minded patterns across any skin he can reach.

You’re not sure if you’ve been laying there for five minutes or an hour when Jax speaks.

“So how long have you been sitting on that one, huh?”

“Shut up,” you whine, burying your face in his chest.

“Nuh uh, daddy wants an answer,” he teases, squeezing you as tightly as he can.

“I hate you,” you laugh, trying to squirm out of his grip to no avail.

“Daddy loves you too.”

“I hate you.”

[miuprey]

ㅤ୨୧ tags explicit content slight corruption and size kink, female reader, college girl reader, canon compliant, jax is all soft for her, maybe dubcon?? a little??

ㅤ୨୧ WC 0.3k

ㅤ୨୧ notes i wrote this a few weeks ago when i first started watching SOA, crazy that this is my tumblr comeback. whatever. i love charlie hunnam

࿏

This shit is unacceptable.

It’s not like this is anything new (no, this has been going on for the better part of half a year now), Jax makes it a point to see her at least once a week. For multiple reasons, but the main one being a selfish one—he needs this. Needs it like he needs oxygen, needs water. He’d love to believe it’s nothing more than carnal, that he’s just never happier than when he’s sinking himself inside of her.

But, really?

The love he’s starting to develop for this girl is killing him; killing his commitment to the club, making him softer.

Knowing all of this should get him pissed at her. That’s usually how it ends. He’s never been good with his temper, but for some reason, she makes him want to fix that shit. First time he ever tried to take some bullshit out on her, she slapped the hell out of him. Yeah, she’s the farthest thing from those crow eaters he’s used to. Or used to be used to. Hasn’t been with one of them since he got her. And they’re not even official. Pathetic, right?

But like he said before, he needs her.

“Mm-mm,” he murmurs into the soft skin of her neck, mouthing over the pretty mole there. His breath is hot, biting. He’s got her bent over her desk (God, he’s such a dick—corrupting a sweet, innocent college girl—got so much ahead of her, so much going on in that gorgeous head of hers), homework long forgotten. And he’s so big, he can tell she’s still not used to it by the way she clenches and shudders and presses herself down into the desk, trying to run from the punishment of his hips. “Oh, baby, you can take it,” he coos, the cold, silver metal of his rings prominent as his fingers curl over the expanse of her slim waist.

She whines, and he groans, lifting his weight off of her slightly, only to push deeper. “Don’t cry,” he thinks he’d be so good at acting, because his voice sounds like he’s just so sorry for her. He’s not. “You got it, sweetheart. You were made for me, huh?”

[laur-kinsellaodonnell]

Raw

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Dubcon (dubious consent). Unprotected intercourse. Anal fingering. Creampie. Swearing.

Summary: With neither of you prepared for your hookup, Jax takes advantage and can’t resist finishing inside you, fucking you raw and giving in completely.

A/N: I don't have any way to defend myself here 🙈 this idea has been a fantasy of mine for a WHILE and I finally put it into words. A huge thanks to my bestie @puffins-muffins for all her help with this one 💗 Enjoy!

---

Jax was King.

The President patch stitched into the worn leather on his chest was just a mere physical indication of his rule, the way he walked into a room and owned everything in it a more subdued sign of his regency.

His kingdom was anything but righteous, full of lies, crime and dirty money, and within it you were a pawn, something for him to toy with when he got bored, but every time his piercing blue eyes landed on you you could've sworn you were his Queen.

You didn't mind being used, not by him, the way his ringed fingers felt on your skin and his lips left their mark on you made it anything but cheap, and you couldn't imagine ever denying him wanting you.

It was usually planned, meeting each other day or night at what usually felt like the snap of his fingers, but even if it was unexpected or last minute, you were always prepared.

Prepared, safe, and right now this was anything but.

He showed up unannounced, the roar of his bike vibrating the blood in your veins that instantly burned hot the moment you heard the familiar rumble, watching through your window as he stormed up to your door and busted right in as if it was his to do so.

Jax was feral, someone or something getting under his skin that was more than likely a result of club business that you had no business asking about, and now he was your problem.

“Fuck, darlin’, I need you,” he hissed against your neck, his teeth scraping over your thrumming pulse.

You cursed yourself for not having gone to the store when you intended to, knowing you and him had used the last condom you had only two days ago, and you swallowed hard as you readied yourself to break the news to him.

“I um, fuck– I don’t have anything,” you breathed, angling your head slightly to see his face.

The disappointment and hint of annoyance couldn’t be disguised on his features, a huff blowing out of his pink lips that were glistening from yours.

“Do you?” you hoped, your fingers gently sliding down the soft leather that covered his heaving chest.

The lift of his eyebrows creased his forehead as he gave you a look that said ‘you’re kidding’ more than speaking the words could, and when he smirked and shook his head slightly, you ached even more for him.

“Sorry,” you whispered, hating that you were letting him down and denying him the one thing he clearly needed.

You could feel his energy coiled up so tightly, practically buzzing through the layers of clothes he wore beneath his kutte, his body heat radiating onto your palms, and his eyes flashed with a hunger and primal need that ran deeper than just letting off some steam.

“Hey, don't worry about it,” he assured, his tone lighter than you expected. “We can just hang out.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, his thumb reaching up to press against your lower one before leaning in for more, his moan pouring into your mouth that made your knees go weak.

You should've known it was bullshit the second he said it, because the next thing you knew you were naked, sprawled out on your bed where he hovered over you still fully clothed, his fingers hooked inside you where he worked you with expertise.

“Remember my rule, sweetheart,” he drawled, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed hard, your effect on him undisguisable.

When you didn't answer, Jax retreated from you, standing upright where he peered down at you with a cockiness that you loved seeing, and peeled his kutte off his large frame.

You whined, the loss of him touching you turning you pathetic, and he reveled in it.

“What's my rule?” he demanded, his words holding more bite.

“Not to come until you let me,” you breathed, smiling as you warmed at the thought.

“Good girl.”

You watched as he continued to undress, his simple nod at you giving you the go ahead to touch yourself while he did, your promise to listen to his instructions about to be ignored when the sight of his cock bouncing out of his pristinely white boxers had you wrecked already.

Wearing nothing but his rings and the branded black ink that made him who he was as much as blood and breath did, he crawled over you, his eyes holding a softness you mistook as a promise.

“I just wanna feel you against me,” he whispered, his hand smoothing over your head before capturing your lips.

The truth in that remark was severely understated, the desperation both of you showed in being as close as possible to each other without fucking unlike ever before, and you knew part of the thrill of it all was in holding back.

You’d rarely seen him like this, obsessive and indulgent, completely undone as he laid on top of you, his hair hanging in his face as he made what seemed like every part of you from your lips to your chest raw from his beard.

His cock rested against you, tempting to push through, the threat of him being bare inside your cunt an allurement like no other.

You moved your hips, taunting and teasing, making his cock glide through your wetness so much that he almost slipped inside.

He growled something that resembled a curse against the hollow of your neck, pulling himself back just enough to look down at you, his eyes reflecting the torment that plagued him.

“You’re making this fuckin’ impossible, darlin’,” he warned, flopping himself down on the mattress with a huff.

You smiled, amused by his misery brought on by you, and moved to straddle him, your hands planted on his thick chest.

You had never felt more powerful, watching as you dissolved him down to a groping, deprived mess, the satisfaction in denying him what he wanted from you giving you radiance.

Your King, brought down by the sins of your body, bent around your will so effortlessly he turned into nothing but a man under your touch. But lingering just beneath the surface you knew better than to trust this confidence.

“Is it really that bad?” you asked playfully, grinding yourself on his throbbing length until he hissed and dug his head down into the pillow.

“Fuck…” he moaned, grabbing your hips so hard there would be bruises and bucking up against you. “You’re killin’ me.”

You leaned forward, your hands cupping his cheeks as you kissed him, rolling your tongue with his as you rode on his shaft.

His hands moved to your ass, gripping your flesh and spreading your cheeks apart as you continued to use him, the feel of him rubbing through you but not pushing inside almost as good as if he was.

With a slight shift of his hips, his leaking head pressed into you, making you gasp and jolt away like you were burned, his amusement clear on his face.

He bit his bottom lip, looking at you with warning before he spoke.

“You better be careful or you’re gonna get fucked.”

His threat made you shiver, heat crawling down your spine where it coiled deep in your core, and unable to think of a way to respond, you kissed him again, hard and needy while you continued to tease yourself on him.

The thought of him filling you with nothing but himself had you aching more than ever, nothing separating you from him, the intimacy in that danger turning it into something you suddenly wanted more than anything in the world.

You’d let him have it all if he wanted, feeling like you were dangling yourself right in front of him like a sacrifice, but Jax seemed to be loving the game just as much.

He moved his hips at the same time you rolled yours back, his hands locking on you to force you still the second his tip breached your entrance, the cruelness in his laugh reverberating through you as he kept your mouths pressed together.

You fought to lift yourself off, your cunt aching and dripping from that small stretch, wanting to fully sink down onto him and never remove yourself.

Your hands clawed at the side of his face, moaning into him as you deepened your kiss, still rocking along him where every so often he would slip inside, his body instinctively finding where it belonged in yours.

“Jax…” you whined, completely stupid from lust and desperation, your inhibitions shattering the longer this went on.

Again, and only the tip, Jax pressed inside your hole, a low groan coming out of him while a smug smile played on his lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said like a joke, letting you pull off of him before he drove in, further this time.

You closed your eyes and sat upright, lifting off of him again, grinding on the golden smattering of pubes that trailed from his navel to where he had been made sticky from you, pretending like you were trying to rescue that last bit of resolve even though you both knew it was futile.

There was no use in denying yourselves any longer, throwing caution out the window as you finally let yourself sit fully on it, his size always a shock, but the feel of him raw inside you was what had you gasping.

Your nails dug into his chest, the half-moon indents carved into his porcelain skin to be seen for days, and you hoped the memory of being buried bare inside you would stay imprinted in his mind for longer.

Jax immediately started thrusting up into you, his pleasured sounds unashamed as he grunted and moaned loudly, his praise something you would wear as proudly as a crown.

“Jesus Christ, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he huffed, propping himself up off the bed enough to watch you move up and down on his naked cock, already knowing from the second he had you like this that he was fucked.

You basked in his worship, his gaze and his words enhancing the feeling of every detail of him being imprinted in you, his veins throbbing against your walls, his velvety skin encased in your warmth.

“Lay down,” he ordered, despite already making quick work of doing it for you, and the second you were splayed out in the sheets, he grabbed your body and flipped you onto your stomach.

Immediately sensing your loss of control in the situation, you turned your face and spoke, your words sounding more panicked than you wanted.

“Make sure you pull out, Jax.”

A wicked smile tugged at his lips, his head giving a cockier than usual nod as he shuffled in behind you on his knees, getting close enough that his cock was wedged between your cheeks.

“Don't worry, darlin’. I will,” he spoke after a huff of a laugh blew past his lips, the malice in his voice dripping off his tongue.

His hand that held the two rings that spelled out SONS spread your ass apart as he lined up, driving his cock in slowly, watching your body accept every inch of his girth and length.

Gritting his teeth together tightly, he bottomed out, loving the way your face screwed up almost in pain and your hands clawed at the bedding, your body shifting away from him as if you could escape.

He let out a cruel laugh, pulling your hips back down on him, his hands staying there to keep you on his dick.

Jax’s pace was deliberate and harsh, thrusting into you like a man possessed, everything that was pent up finally being released as he fucked you with everything he had.

He loved watching you take him on any other occasion, but seeing his unsheathed cock pumping in and out of you brought on a level of insanity he couldn’t compare to anything else. The sight of your cream coating him made his mouth water, and he knew for sure this was the best thing he’d ever laid eyes on, watching your pussy stretch to fit him while your other hole gleamed with your arousal.

Jax licked his thumb and brought it down to press against your ass, rimming it in tantalizing circles as he continued to fuck you ruthlessly, a satisfied laugh ringing out as you whined to this additional pleasure.

“Fuck, Jax,” you cried, squirming more in the sheets. “I’m getting close.”

He relished in knowing what he was doing to you, his head tipping back so his blushed face titled toward the ceiling, his hips continuing to pound against you as his thumb pressed in further.

“Fuck, baby,” he chuckled, “this pussy is the best thing I’ve ever felt.”

You heard the truth in his words, his praise making you soar and reminding you once again of your reign over him, the King, your rightful place at the throne beside him despite being at his total mercy.

You were teetering the line, feeling closer to the edge than ever and you knew if he kept up what he was doing or your thoughts worked to aid your body in getting what it needed, you would be done.

The absence of the smell of latex was making the intoxicating scent of sex more heightened to the point your mouth watered, and remembering once again that he was fucking you raw, you came hard, clenching like a vice around his dick that continued to slam into you fast and brutally.

Your spit stained the sheets, feeling it smear from your open mouth as you struggled for air, your orgasm extended as long as possible by him not letting up even for a second.

Everything was soaked under you, the sound of his hips slapping against you wetter and more obscene than before, his grunting making a shiver crawl down your spine.

“This cunt is mine,” he barked, the words greedy and vicious through his bared teeth.

His hand pushed down between your shoulder blades, pressing you into the bed more, your face smushed into your mess as his other collected both of your wrists and planted them at the small of your back, his rough grip making you wince.

There was no escaping his barrage now even if you wanted to, lifting your hips up as much as you could to give him more which allowed him to fuck you deeper, and he happily took the opportunity.

You knew he wouldn’t be far off from his climax, the thought of him waiting to the last second to pull out and wondering where he was going to aim his load making you shudder, and when he removed his hand from the center of your back and wrapped it around to your clit, you lost all control again.

You would've blacked out had you not wanted to feel every single second of it, crying out a broken scream ripped from you out of pure pleasure, the sound of Jax hammering into you to find his own release distant in your ears.

There was no way he was pulling out. Not with you like this, completely powerless to him and what he could give you. Part of him knew it was wrong but he didn’t fucking care, the grasp that greed had on him too strong to fight anymore.

He looked at you through blurred vision, hazy in his ecstasy, adoring how soft and accepting your body looked even as he treated you so disrespectfully, his heart aching in his chest as all of him succumbed to what it sought.

A slew of broken curses and guttural sounds spilled from his mouth, his hair hanging in his face as sweat dripped off his nose and landed on your back, his cock pulsing as he shot his big load deep inside your cunt.

Jax stayed there as long as he could as you both came down, loving the feel of being buried inside your full pussy, a smirk tugging at his lips as he waited for you to notice.

You whined as you shifted slightly, feeling the unmistakable warmth and thickness leaking out of you, realizing in a mix of fear and something else you couldn't place what he had done.

“Jesus, Jax,” you blurted, but even you were unsure whether you were upset or satisfied, your stomach doing a flip out of both anxiety and excitement.

Pulling out of you, he watched with pride as his milky white cum spilled out of your perfect pussy, your hole stretched and lips swollen from his cock and everything he had done to you.

The distinct smell of his cum hit you as you inhaled deeply, and you closed your eyes and took a second to savour the moment, basking in his act of possession, his selfishness quietly excused.

You rolled over, glaring at him with as much conviction as you could manage, though the way he was looking at you forced you to bite your lip to stop from smiling, and it took everything in you to disguise how much you really loved this.

“Well, what did I say?” he quipped, his expression as smug as his words, his head tilting to the side with amusement.

You sighed, about to retort when you were cut off, your witty words stolen as Jax’s two fingers swiped up his wasted load and pushed it back inside you.

You moaned and grabbed at the sheets beside you, closing your eyes as you relished in the feel of him fingering his seed in deeper, his blatant want for it to stay in you leaving no doubt of his claim over you.

“Good girl,” he drawled roughly, his cock already hard again from how accepting you were of this, the need he felt to keep you full of his cum at all times almost unbearable.

He positioned himself between your spread legs, forcing his cock back in your pussy with a hard push, watching a deranged smile dress your gorgeous lips.

“You’re dreamin’ if you think this is the last time I’m filling you up.”

---

Taglist:

@dailydragon08 @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @maggotzombie

@rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@daryldixonpls @puffins-muffins @primadonnasdream @glxsyy-itza396 @appalachiancowboy99

@mani-pedro @cindsvibes @aria725 @wittyogredemon

@secretlysamcro @bellaxgiornata @glxsyy-itza396 @avastrasposts @casa-boiardi

[secretlysamcro]

Can you share one of your sluttiest, smuttiest, thought about Jax Teller

Sluttiest, Smuttiest Jax Teller Confessions #1

Jax trying so fucking hard not to cum inside of me. Like when he’s on top, missionary style. Our foreheads pressed together, both our skin touched with sweat. His jaw clenched so fucking tight it looks like he’s in pain from how hard he’s trying to hold back.

I can see it in his face. His eyebrows almost touching in the middle, the little wince that makes the soft wrinkles at the edge of his eyes show when he drags his cock out slow, just to push it back in even slower. And the way he stares at me, like he’s almost fucking begging me to save him from drowning.

And every single time, I make it harder for him. Wrapping my legs around his waist, locking him in deeper daring him to lose control. His fucking chain, swinging side to side, it fucking mesmerises me. He fucking knows it too. That lazy fucking smirk curls on his lips. All fucked out and dangerous, the kind of smirk that says…

“I know what you’re tryna fucking do darlin”

My nails dig into his back, right over the reaper tattoo. He buries his head where my shoulder meets my neck, biting me in response, his breath hot against my skin.

“Fuck…I’m gonna cu…”

He doesn’t even finish the sentence, just pulls back enough to brace himself. One hand wrapping tight around my throat, as he lands with just four more deep deliberate thrusts before pulling out with the most primal fucking moan that’s come straight from within, like it pains him to have to leave my body.

His hands tightening against me as he cums all fucking over me. Stomach, tits, every-fucking-where. Hot and messy and he keeps making those animalistic grunts, like he’s never had to do something so hard in his fucking life.

And when it’s done, when we’re both just about lucid but breathless, he doesn’t just roll off and leave me there. He lingers. Moving slow, careful, like I’m something he could possibly break. The same man who just had his hand around my throat and his cock buried so fucking deep, has been replaced by someone softer, still dangerous of course, but in this moment? Fucking gentle. A gentleness that’s only meant for me.

He grabs at anything, a towel, his t shirt I don’t know, but he swipes over my skin, steady, with no rush. Like this part matters just as much to him as the rest. Once we’re all clean again, he leans back over me, rubbing his nose against mine like he doesn’t want to let us out of the moment just yet. Then, he kisses me, still fucking grinning. Pressed up against me, so fucking warm and intimate.

“You gotta stop doin’ that sweetheart”

And even though he’s smiling, there’s a warning in it, a real fucking warning. Because he knows exactly what I did. And next time? He won’t pull out.

[changenameno]

Fingerblast PART 2

(Complete, link for the first part, down below ⬇️)

Summary:

It’s the middle of summer and therefore incredibly hot. Of course right then something had to be wrong with your AC. How fortunate for you that a handyman can come right over…

Pairing: Syverson x Short Fem. Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cursing, explicit description of sex, thirst trap named Sy, teasing, size kink, chasing?, choking (if you squint?), p in v (use of y/n = Your first name)

Word count: 3K

A/N: Okay here goes my first attempt at writing smut…This is way longer than I intended it to become, whoops. Honestly this just came to me while stumbling over a song (aka the title of this specific fic 🤣). Also I think this reads a little like a bad porn video SORRY…but anyway….here goes nothing🙈😅….

It’s not proofread, any mistakes are my own. Please be kind, comments/reblogs are very appreciated…Thank you❤️✨

!Syverson is not my own creation (unfortunately)! And the song/lyrics don’t belong to me either!

🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑

(In case you’ve missed PART 1)

PART 2

Sy was caught off guard but only for a second, then he set his body into motion. Like a raging bull he chased you up the stairs, not even three steps behind you. Hearing his thundering footsteps approaching and fast, you squealed.

You turned to your left, throwing your bedroom door open, darting into the room without stopping. Sy was right at your heels, bulldozing into the room so close behind that he simply tackled you onto the huge bed. Making you fall, face first into the soft mattress, which smothered your surprised shriek. His body covered you wholly, making you feel even smaller underneath his massive frame. Lying there and trying to catch your breath, you swore you felt him harden against you.

Well truth be told he finally had you where he so desperately wanted you.

Reluctantly he let you up enough, so you could turn around, now facing his bearded face which had carnal hunger written all over it. “Caught you…Now, what am I gonna’ do with you darlin’?”

Seizing the opportunity you grabbed his head and pressed your lips against his. Sy reciprocated immediately, grabbing your hips and pushing you up and against him. Hissing into the kiss once you crossed your ankles behind his back, gently rocking your hips. He let go of you, in favour of crawling on all fours up onto the bed; so he could lie his whole body down comfortably, while you clung to him.

Sy let your back slowly down onto the mattress, whereas you were still rubbing your drenched centre against his cargo shorts, surely leaving a wet spot. Only now coming up for air from the heated kiss you two were sharing, you breathed,” Fu-uck, please Sy I need you. Mmmh,” ending on a mewl, because he decided to rut against you right then. The unexpected pressure, stimulating your clit just like you needed it.

“Right with ya…” he rumbled. Without further ado, he took a hold of your flimsy dress and pulled it off, over your head, throwing it onto the floor.

Now his big sweaty body was towering over you, making you feel all small vulnerable, wearing only your white bra and matching panties.

That changed, as Sy’s lips attacked your neck at once, making his way down to the valley of your heaving breasts, all the while his beard scratched your soft skin in the best ways. Struggling to lay still, you squirmed at every kiss he pressed against your own sweat drenched skin.

You felt divine under his rough fingertips as he grabbed your lush thighs, opening your legs wider, so he could continue kissing down your body. Naturally you let your legs fall open, uncrossing your ankles, and digging your fingers into the bedspread. Sy stopped when he reached the waistband of your panties, both his hands splayed over your rib cage, fingertips lightly grazing your breasts beneath your bra.

Liking over his lips while resting his bearded chin on your stomach he looked up, where your eyes met. As blown out as his pupils were at the moment, you could only see a small ring of his normally bright blue eyes. “You look beautiful,” he rasped. Smiling down at him, you sat up slightly so you could gently run your hand over his head then down to cup his chin. “Mmh I’d say the same, but I can only see your handsome face so far,” you answered just as affectionately.

Sy understood you right away, almost falling off the bed, in his hurry to get undressed. Somehow he still managed not to.

Back on the bed, only wearing his briefs, you admired his bare, hairy chest pulling him down for another heated kiss. His body hair, lightly scratching over your smooth skin, ensured that you felt every inch of him even more intensely.

Moaning into his mouth, as his tongue invaded yours and began to explore you thoroughly. Breaking the kiss to demand what your aching centre needed most. “Please, just…need you.”

“Bet you’re soaking wet for me, aren’t ya? Wanna have a taste first.” Shaking your head no, he looked at you expectedly, when you didn’t elaborate he continued, “Darlin’ use your words, what do you want?”

“I…just…I need you now. Next time you can…you know,” stumbling over your own words already, even though he hadn’t done much yet, was an enormous boost for his ego.

He thoroughly enjoyed making you squirm, so he smirked, “Next time I can what?”

It was your turn to glare at the amused man kneeling between your legs. Impatiently you snarled, “For fuck’s sakes, if you don’t get to it, right now…I promise that you’ll never get a taste!”

Sy’s smirk only widened in response, then he suddenly pulled you down by your ankles, until you lay on your back. “Still gotta prepare you though.” With one swift movement he yanked your ruined panties down and off your legs. Making you mewl at the sudden air hitting your bare heat. He looked down, hungrily staring at your sopping folds. “On second thought, you don’t need much preparing, do ya? Could probably slide right in.”

Feeling a little embarrassed at how turned on you had become, you tried hiding your face in the pillow. “Ah none of that darlin’. Wanna see your face, when I make you come.” His hand gently turned your face towards his, smiling softly down at you. “That’s right, eyes on me, y/n.”

Sy didn’t let you protest any further, as one thick finger slowly dipped between your folds. Running down to your clenching, dripping hole. Without warning he pushed two of his fingers inside, stretching you deliciously and making you bow your back, gasping. “Nnhg…”

“That’s a good girl. Takin’ my fingers so well.” To ease a bit of the tension in his own briefs he tried adjusting the tent within. Exhaling heavily when you clamped down on his fingers, hard. You couldn’t help it, having caught a glimpse of his huge tent. Well huge was still somehow an understatement, but you trusted that Sy knew what he was doing.

He cupped your pussy and at the same time spread his thick fingers, stretching you carefully. Making you chase the friction of his palm against your little pearl. He started moving his fingers in and out of you, though at the slowest pace know to men. In an attempt to get him to go faster, you bucked against his rough hand, trying to spur him on. “Please, need more. Please Sy.”

For the first time today, he quit his teasing and plunged a third finger in, moving them a lot quicker than previously. He had you moaning in no time, falling apart on his fingers. Sy managed to hit that special spot dead on, every time his fingers stretched your warm canal. “Yeah right there. Right there, don’t stop….” You felt it, your release was just around the corner, starting to tremble. Just as you were ready to see stars, the hand between your legs disappeared.

Your eyes snapped open, enraged that your orgasm had been stolen from you, you sat up, “What…no…why I was nearly there!?”

That smug fucker just sat back on his heels, sucking his fingers into his mouth and liking your juices off. The obscene slurping sounds he made while he enjoyed tasting you, had your insides feeling like liquid lava.

Deliberately slow he pulled his fingers back out, wiping them on the bedspread, staring you down with his sapphire blue orbs. Mirth and lust equally displayed within those same eyes, “Delicious. Also I ain’t let you come, unless it’s on my cock, understood?”

Too stunned to answer you gaped down, as his cock twitched within his briefs. Instantly a hand grabbed your neck, pushing you back down onto the mattress.

Startled by the sudden roughness, both your hands wrapped around the muscles of his sturdy forearm, looking up at him. Sy rumbled, “Do you understand?” His deep thundering voice paired with the hand lightly choking you, made you repeatedly squeeze around nothing. Craving his touch all the more, now that he wasn’t going to use his fingers to get you off.

“Yes. Yes I understand.” His hand let go, as did your hands, letting them relax next to your head. He was rather pleased with your response, so he let his enormous paw wander behind your back, nimbly opening your bra and getting rid of your last barrier.

Not being able to hold back any longer he took off his own briefs, throwing them on the ground as well. You looked absolutely breath-taking, lying completely bare before him, innocently looking up. Then your eyes fell down, gasping at the erect thickness between his thighs. Sy smiled proudly, promptly beginning to slide his own hand up and down his shaft. Where at the tip a drop pre-cum had already formed.

You watched and whimpered, “Please, please…”, wanting nothing more than to have is cock stretching you to your limit.

Not wanting to wait any longer himself he climbed between your legs. Cock in hand he tapped it lightly on your swollen clit, reducing you to nothing more than a squirming, whining mess.

Then he finally had mercy on you, brushing over your drenched opening once, twice and then he dipped inside. Holding your breath, as he fed inch by inch of his monstrosity into your tight little cunt.

“So fu-ucking tight.” He pressed through his teeth, hands digging into your sides to hold you in place and to make moving forward easier. Sy wasn’t even halfway in and you already felt incredibly stuffed. Every nook and cranny was filled up.

Apparently the last bit of his patience had run out, because he tilted his hips back and trusted forward with such force he sheathed himself to the hilt. You whimpered, arms now slung around his torso and fingernails digging into his back, making him grunt in return.

“Sh-shh that’s it, nice deep breaths darlin’, you’re takin’ me so well.” Closing your eyes, you tried concentrating on his soothing words and the gentle motion of his hands running up and down your sides, to prevent becoming overwhelmed by the fullness.

At last your pussy began pulsing, little by little growing accustomed to the way he stretched you so ridiculous far apart.

Sy noted your face slowly relaxing under his ministrations, but he’d wait until you gave him the go, and only then would he move.

When you thought it didn’t feel like he was splitting you in half anymore, you opened your eyes. He was looking at you intensely, blue eyes seemingly melting as his right hand reached up, caressing your cheek. “Are you alright? We can stop if it’s too much,” he whispered leaning down, to be yet closer to you, meaning every word he just uttered.

Your hands glided up, over his shoulder blades and to his head, pushing him down further so you could kiss him again. This time it was a slow sensual kiss, without haste just feeling the other’s lips and moving in tandem. Once you separated from each other, you whispered back, “I’m fine…and don’t you dare stop now, when I conquered your mighty beast.” His dark chuckle send vibrations down to where you were intimately connected, making you sheer crazy with need.

“Well then let’s see if you truly conquered it, shall we darlin’?” Sy snatched you up, gripping your behind and pressing you impossibly closer to his body. You crossed your ankles behind his back anew, holding on for dear life as that bear of a man pulled all the way out just to ram back into your tight, hot tunnel. And just as you thought he couldn’t go any deeper.

He repeated that powerful motion again and again. Resounding groans breaking free from his mouth while yours gaped open, letting whine after whine escape you.

Sy nuzzled your neck, making you hear and feel every one of his delicious grunts and lewd comments. You weren’t even able to respond, let alone string more than two words together at the moment.

He repeatedly fucked his massive cock inside your pussy, keeping his pace like a sledgehammer. “That’s right, made for my cock, darlin’.”

You just needed a little push and then you’d undoubtedly fall over the edge. As if he could read your mind, the hand that wasn’t grabbing your rear, smoothly slid between your dripping bodies.

As soon as his hand reached its destination, rubbing circles over your clit, the band within you instantly snapped. Gushing around him, your legs shaking, clamping down on Sy’s cock. “Aaah fuck, that’s it Darlin’, come for me.” His grip on your ass, turned near bruising, slowly but surely losing his pace and rhythm.

Wanting to get him off, just as hard as he had you; you clenched your slightly oversensitive cunt and purred into his ear,” Yeah, so deep, please… come inside me.”

“Fuck…”, that did him in and with one last stroke, you could feel his seed filling you up. His body all taunt for a second before he relaxed. Sy kissed the side of your neck, as the last bit of his cum entered you. He let out a deep sigh,” You were…that was…,” struggling to find his words, he lifted you off of his cock. Continuing to muzzle your neck and placing soft kisses on your skin. Now lying outstretch on your back, you could feel his seed spilling down your pussy, making you shiver slightly.

“Mmmh yeah that was amazing, I agree.” You answered his unfinished sentence, a smile creeping onto your face.

Eyes closed, you felt the mattress dip as Sy moved off the bed. You heard the tap running, when he returned, you opened your eyes. He’d a washcloth in hand, tilting his head in question. Nodding at him, he carefully brought the cool cloth between your legs, cleaning you and removing your conjoined fluids. Once he was done, he sat it down on the nightstand to be put away later.

“Love, could ya scoot over a little?” Worn out, you rolled sluggishly to lay on your right side, still just as naked as him. The mattress dipped again, as Sy snuggled up behind you, spooning you with his overheated body.

“So how’d ya like it?”

Turning slightly in his arms, to look at the smug expression he wore on his face, you mumbled,” Mmh well, I was a bit sceptical at first. But you? Roleplaying as my handyman, was fun I must admit.”

“Told ya,” he pressed another kiss against your temple as he carried on,” doesn’t have to be anything crazy but roleplaying can be fun from time to time.”

You turned back around just enjoying the closeness of your husband’s body pressed against yours. “Mmh.”

It had been his idea to try something a little bit more elaborate in bed for your anniversary. His best friends had actually kind of encouraged him with this, which was why you were so reluctant to try, at first. As you said, at first you’d been very sceptical but you couldn’t really say no to Sy, so you promised to try something on your special day. The little details he poured in to make it feel even more real, astounded you.

Thinking about it, the red pickup truck sprung back in the forefront of your consciousness. “Wait, one question…that red pickup, whose is that?”

You felt him chuckle, “Ah, that. Yeah I might have borrowed it from Walt.”

“What? Walter? Like in Walter Marshall?”, you were so dumbfounded that the detective, out of all his friends would drive such a car, that you turned around in Sy’s arms, to check if he was joking.

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean yeah? It’s red, as far as I know he’d never…”, he interrupted you, “Ah that, yeah, he made a mistake orderin’ it or somethin’.”

Sy moved his arm, so you could lie your head down comfortably on his bloated biceps.

“Okay, well at least that makes sense. More than him intentionally picking out a red car anyway.” You settled back, eyes closed, satisfied with how your special day hand gone so far.

Until one more burning question popped up and you reopen your eyes. Tilting your head back to take in Sy’s relaxed face, having closed his eyes as well. “That song? You know the one that played when you got out of the car?” Apparently amused by your line of questioning, his lips turned up into a smile. Without opening his eyes, he mumbled back, “Yeah what about it?”

“I never heard a song as crude as that? And I never heard you play it, ever?”

One of his flaming blue eyes blinked at you, light crinkles forming around it as he smiled still,” Don’t wanna rat anyone out. But ya know, August sent it to me today and I thought I’d give it a try.”

It was your turn to snigger,” Of course, who else. Do you only have lewd guy friends?”, ending your question on a snort.

That had Sy open his other eye as well, both showing his clear amusement,” Well, ya know, you’re the one that married me, darlin’. What does that say ‘bout you?”

Making you laugh,” True. Also I think life would be a lot more boring, without our knuckle-headed friends.”

“Sure thing.”

After a short pause, he put his other arm around you, pulling you into a more comfortable embrace, “I love you, darlin’.”

Completely content, you let your tired eyes fall shut, whispering back,” I love you, too.”

🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑

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[marimomozo]

It’s always ‘Zoro x reader x Sanji’ and never ‘Fem! Zoro x reader x Fem! Sanji’ 😔

Cw: lesbian sex, pvp (although it’s a strap on), fingering, nipple play, humiliation if you squint, light impact play, light blood play, facesitting, some zosan action (Sanji sucks her strap)

As much as ZORO and SANJI bicker, they're great when they work together, and fucking you is when they work best. You squeezed around ZORO’S fingers as she worked you open for her strap. SANJI, sitting right beside you, watched as you moaned each time her fingers brushed against your g-spot. She’s grinding against the mattress to get any relief for her throbbing clit, her pussy clenching around nothing.

“What’re you, a bitch in heat?” ZORO took a jab at SANJI’S desperation, “leaking over the sight of me fucking her with my fingers, huh? You’d hump her leg if she’d let you.”

SANJI’S ears burned with humiliation from the swordswoman’s words and she huffed. “I don’t see how she’d want to fuck you, brute. You treat her like a rag doll instead of a beauty to be cherished,” her gaze landed on your face scrunched in pleasure and ground harder against the mattress.

The second you were about to come, ZORO removed her fingers. “Want you to come on my dick,” you whined, making her slap your thigh before getting up and grabbing the strap from your nightstand. The mattress groaned slightly underneath her weight and she lined up the strap with your pussy.

SANJI climbed on top until her pussy hovered above your face. Her visible eye scanned your features for any sign of disapproval. Once you nodded, she slowly descended onto your face until she felt you grab her thighs and pull her down. She gasped at the feeling of your tongue experimentally lapping at her clit and grabbed fistfuls of the pillow underneath your head.

ZORO stretched your pussy as she slowly inserted her strap and gave you time to adjust after she bottomed out, rolling her hips for a few minutes. After a few shallow thrusts, she started pounding into you, her hands around your hips.

Your moans were muffled by SANJI’S pussy. You sucked and licked and flicked at her clit, her juices sweet and almost addictive. Your nose tickled against her blonde pubes as she pressed you into her further. Her moans filled the room along with ZORO’S grunts and only got louder as her release came.

Praise fell from her lips as she rode out her orgasm, whining about how good you’re doing and how lucky she is to have you. You barely registered her words as ZORO abused your g-spot, the way her hips meet yours letting you know you’ll be sore tomorrow. And she won’t be sorry, not one bit.

When SANJI lifted herself off you with shaky legs she laid beside you and peppered kisses all over your face; your cheeks, your jawline, your neck, every part of you stained with red lipstick. She watched a white ring form around ZORO’S strap and cooed. “So wet, ma bèbè..” She groped your breast and flicked her tongue against your nipple, tweaking the other one as to not neglect you.

ZORO groaned at the sight and slapped your clit, making you whine and tangle your fingers into SANJI’S hair as you pull her into a heated kiss with nothing but tongue. You’re practically moaning into her mouth and you feel something wet dribble on your lips.

You pull away to see blood coming from SANJI’S nose. Instead of wiping it off, she smears it against your skin and pulls you into another kiss. That is what sends you over the edge. Your back arched off the bed as your climax washes over you. ZORO rubbed firm circles against your clit to help you ride it out.

ZORO slowly pulls out and SANJI straddled your hips and took the strap in her mouth until her nose brushed against her mint pubes. Her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned at the taste of you. She sucked on the strap until there was no trace of you left and pulled out with an obscene ‘pop’!

They both watched your chest heave as you took a moment to catch your breath. ZORO laid beside you and pressed chaste kisses onto your neck, SANJI did the same while running her fingers through your kinky hair.

No one said anything for a while, but the three of you knew tonight wasn’t over yet.

WC: 0.7k

[starryzaree]

Tired Taste

Sanji x AFAB reader smut.

2.4k words

MINORS DNI

C/W: hair pulling, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, praise, mirror sex, cum eating (Sanji a freak)

It had been a long week and the entire crew was spent. After countless fights and seemingly endless enemies, the crew could barely muster the strength to talk to each other.

The Sunny is currently rocking slowly in the middle of the sea, Jinbe at the helm. Thanks to Nami, he got about 6 hours of sleep beforehand, so you all won't drift off into unfathomable danger. The girls were already in their respective rooms, the boys all scattered throughout the ship. You almost tripped over Luffy while on your way to the kitchen, for he was passed out in the middle of the floor.

“Sanji?” You gently call out as you push the door open. You scan the kitchen, but didn't see him. He must already be in bed then. You help yourself to the cupboards, looking for something to drink before you finally retire to your shared chambers with Sanji.

“What are you doing up, my sweet angel?” Your lover coos from behind you, sliding his hands around your waist and pulling you into a hug from behind while you reach for a glass. You smiled and leaned into his touch. He smells like a fresh cigarette and his usually expensive cologne.

“I was actually looking for you.” You pulled a glass out of the cabinet, your free hand running over his. “Would you like a drink?”

He kissed your shoulder gently, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and breathing in your scent. “Whatever my queen will offer me, I'll accept.” He mumbles, kissing your neck as well.

You laugh and pull away from him, handing him your glass and grabbing another, then grabbing your beverage of choice. You two share a gentle moment wrapped in each other's arms, whispering about your day and your shared love while sipping your drinks.

“My love, you should get to bed.” Sanji states, taking your empty glass from you.

“So should you, darling. You've been up longer than the rest of us and fought just as hard.” You slide your hand over the expanse of his back, feeling the taut muscles underneath his dress shirt.

He scoffs and waves his hand in the air, shaking his head. “I'll be alright. I need to make a menu for tomorrow and scour the cabinets to see what we have left. I might need to start prepping for tomorrow's breakfast as well.” He washes your cups and puts the drink away, rewiping the counters.

“And when will you sleep?”

“Sweetheart, I promise you won't sleep alone tonight. I'll meet you in our bed.” He grins, and reaches out to kiss your knuckles. You use this opportunity to pull him into you, snatching the kitchen towel out of his hand and throwing it into the empty sink.

“C'mon, you're coming to bed with me now.” You pull the man by his hand, ignoring all his protests.

“Darling th-”

You stop in your tracks and turn on your heel. The look you gave Sanji shut him up. How lowers his head in defeat, allowing you to pull him along.

“Let's go shower together.” You whisper. Now he's pulling you along.

Once you're in your room, Sanji pulls you in for a kiss. He's got one gentle hand on your hip, the other under your chin, tilting your head up for him. You slide his jacket off his shoulders and start at his button up, slowly stripping him one piece at a time.

Once he gets you down to your undergarments, you sink your fingers into the waistband of his heart boxers and lead him to the bathroom, swaying your hips on the way. You start the water, allowing it to warm up, then he sets you on the counter. He worships your body with his lips from your collarbones, down past your breasts, below your bellybutton and to your pelvis.

He lifts you up enough to pull your panties down your legs, kissing your inner thighs the entire way down. “Mon amour, how I've missed you.” He whispers, pulling your legs over his shoulders. “Watch me.” He gently commands, locking his eyes onto yours before he buries his tongue between your folds.

“Fuck,” you moan out, relishing the way his hands squeeze your thighs and his tongue swirls around your clit, sucking it into his mouth while maintaining eye contact. He groans upon tasting you, his tongue delving deeper and gliding over your labia until he gets to your hole. Sanji slides his warm tongue in and out, taking in as much of you as he could.

You run your fingers through his hair, pulling his bangs back to reveal both his swirly eyebrows and beautiful eyes. You see him grin from between your legs before he pulls you off the counter completely and stands up, hoisting you into the air. “Sanji!” You gasp, pressing yourself closer to him and reaching up to the ceiling to steady yourself. “What the hell!”

He does nothing but chuckle, happy that he's nose deep in your pussy now, free to eat as sloppily as he wants. His tongue ravages your folds, slurping and sucking whatever he can, tongue dipping in an out before he circles around your clit again while squeezing your ass.

You cry out his name again, thighs squeezing his head so tight, he swears it might pop. ‘What a way to go’ he thinks to himself. He allows one hand to slide from your ass so he can squeeze two fingers into your soaked pussy, perfectly curling his fingers at your g spot, causing you to tremble.

“Oh, God.” You completely melt, hoisted up on his shoulders with immeasurable pleasure from his tongue and fingers alone. He sucks your clit back into his mouth, moaning around it. “I'm so fucking close!”

He felt close to suffocating, but that was the greatest feeling to him because he would be suffocating in his most favorite spot in the world. He doesn't let up on his pace, determined to make you see stars.

His fingers didn't let up either, the tips massaging over your spot at the same pace that made you scream. You were pulling his blond locs so hard and humping his face in such a lewd manner that made him want to cum untouched.

“‘M’cumming!” You were barely able to announce as your orgasm hit you hard, your body tensing and your thighs clenching even tighter than before. Sanji groans deeply, sticking his tongue out to catch any release while his fingers pumped in and out of you until you had to drag his hand away, halting the obscene slurping noises he was making.

He carefully sets you back down on the counter before he drops to his knees, face red as a tomato while he catches his breath. His chin and nose were glistening with your sweet juices, a few drops sliding down his neck, but that didnt bother him at all.

You watch him suck his fingers into his mouth, sucking your flavour off while his chest heavily rises and falls. He looks up at you, his golden hair a mess on his head.

“I want to do that again.” He rasps, unabable to tear his eyes away from your shaking legs, parted to reveal your glistening pussy, still trembling from your mind shattering orgasm.

He shifts to his knees, crawling over to you, but you stop him, planting a foot on his shoulders.

“Fuck me, Sanji.” He rises to his feet, jumping to pull you into a sloppy, desperate kiss. You taste yourself all over his soft pink lips and his tongue. His hands tug you closer to him by your waist, giving him the opportunity to grind his neglected erection against your skin. You reach between your bodies and claw his boxers out the way, grabbing a hold of his throbbing dick.

“Shit.” He groans, hips jerking at your touch. He breaks the kiss to watch you guide the head of his cock to your hole, squeezing your legs around him to sink his cock deep into you.

You moan in unison at the intrusion, Sanji gripping your thighs tightly as he buries himself to the hilt, his balls pressed firmly against your ass.

He leans down, his forehead pressed against yours as you relish in the feeling of being stuffed full by your lover. He slowly draws his hips back before sliding right back in, moaning at the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls.

“Feel s’good.” He whines into your neck before planting a few kisses, continuing thrusting his hips at a slow pace. He's almost drunk with desire, absolutely lost in the feeling of you.

“Sanji,” you cry out again. “Give it to me. Please.”

Who was he to allow you to beg for what you needed? He straightens up, one hand firmly grasping your hip and the other cradling your back.

“Whatever you need, darling. Just say it.” He whispers, his sweet eyes locked onto yours, his mouth agape as he speeds up his thrusts. He allows his hips to ram into yours, listening to the loud squelching of your tight pussy. “God, you feel so good.” He moans, throwing his head back and mindlessly ramming his hips into you now.

You moan loudly for him, head thrown back until you bump it against the mirror. That's when an idea sparks in your mind. You press your hand on his hips. “Love, wait.”

His eyes shoot open, scanning your face for signs of discomfort as he abruptly stops.

“I wanna switch positions.” You inform him, pushing him until he withdraws. You slide off the counter and turn around, pressing your ass against him.

“Oh.” He grins, massaging his thumbs into your lower back while you wiggle for him. He reaches between your bodies, first spreading your thighs for him, then lining his cock up with your pussy once more. “How I love to see your gorgeous ass bounce for me.” He whispers in your ear before straightening up, and fucking you with reckless abandon. He revels in your loud cries and shouts of his name.

He watches his cock disappear and reappear inside you and your ass ripple against his pelvis with each thrust. Your hand shoots out, looking for something to steady yourself while Sanji pounds you from behind, his normally gentle hands squeezing you tighter than before. Your hand slides against the fogged up mirror, the sound of the hot shower long forgotten. You wipe your hand over the mirror more to reveal your strong lover behind you, so entranced by your body that he barely looks up.

You feel him slow down once your head drops, only to feel him gently gathering your hair into one tight fist, pulling you up until his chest met your shoulder blades.

“Don't stop looking, pretty girl. Watch how good you make me feel.” He coos into your ear, his free hand snaking between your thighs to press against your clit. “So beautiful when you take my cock.” He says while kissing your ear, his hips returning to the fast tempo that made you dumb for him.

“Ah!” You cried, hips jerking while he swirls his fingers over your clit. “S-s’good. M’love it, Sanji.” Your head rested on his shoulder, eyes fluttering from the pleasure, but the sight of his strong body behind you, his large bicep stretched across your torso, and his flushed face pressed next to your ear kept your eyes glued to the steamy mirror.

“So fucking sexy, my queen.” He grunts before pushing you forward, bending you over once more so you're even closer to the mirror. He still had your hair curled into his fist which allowed you to see the veins bulging in his hand all the way to his swollen biceps. From this angle, you could also see his abs, toned and defined, and working hard as he thrusts his hips against you.

He places his hand on your lower back to deepen your arch, grinning once he sees your eyes roll back and feels your walls constrict around his throbbing cock. He perfectly rams against your g spot, this angle allowing you to feel every inch of him so intensely.

“Dont look away, darling.” He says, giving your hair a tug to pull your head up. “Tell me you're gorgeous.”He demands. You should've known that this would get him so riled up. “Say it.”

“Mmm-mmmm fuck. M’g-gorgeous, Sanji.” You barely get the words out, moaning from how well he's fucking you.

“Good girl.” He praises. “My gorgeous fucking girl.” He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust at the angle that makes you scream.

“God, fuck. M’gonna cum!” You wheeze out, eyes fluttering as you feel the heat coil in your stomach, that electric feeling shooting throughout your body. “M’gonna cum. M’g’n cu- ah!”

Your body tenses up and Sanji grunts from behind you as your orgasm ripples through your body.

“Oh fuck, that's it, my angel, cum for me.” Sanji whines, hips thrusting erratically now. He's barely able to handle the way you convulse around him, your sweet voice moaning melodies that will never leave his mind.

His mouth is agape, eyes half lidded as he makes eye contact with you again in the mirror, hips slowing down as he cums inside of you with no warning. Hew continues fucking his seed into you, moaning loudly at each thrust, unable to contain himself when you continue to twitch and squirm around his sensitive dick.

He releases your hair, but keeps his dixk buried deep inside your quivering pussy. He pulls your body up so you could rest on his chest once more, your head relaxed on his shoulder. He kisses your shoulder with shaky breaths, trying to recover.

“Did so well for me, my love.” He whispers, one hand brushing your hair your your face and the other massaging your sore hip.

“Are you glad you're not in the kitchen still?” You pant out with a smile, which causes him to chuckle.

“I'm so glad.” He agrees, kissing your lips gently. “Thank you, Darling.”

He slowly pulls out with a heavy sigh, the loss of his dick inside of you making you whine. He brings his hand from your hip down to your pussy where he can feel his semen leaking out of you slowly. He catches some on his fingers, bringing the mess to his lips and sucking it off his fingers.

“You're nasty.” You tell him, which only makes him grin at you in the mirror.

“Did you want a taste, too?”

A/N ~I deeeeeefffffinetly coulda finished ans published this last week if I would've just locked in. Hope you enjoyed it <3 I'm trying to get back in the groove of writing longer pics.

[starkourtmall]

Hide and... sike?

navigation ☆★

pairing: Sanji x reader

summary: You picked the wrong hiding spot and he followed you. Now the game is over — but neither of you wants to leave.

WARNINGS: a liiiitle bit of smut

Luffy is standing on the figurehead, arms wide, screaming into the wind like a man who has never had a single anxious thought in his entire life.

"WE'RE PLAYING HIDE AND SIKE!"

Nami, curled up with a book, doesn't look up. "That's not a real thing, Luffy."

"It is now." Luffy jumps down, landing in a crouch. His grin is too big for his face. "I close my eyes. I count to a hundred and you hide. When I find you, I sike you out. If you flinch or scream, you lose."

"And if we don't?" Usopp asks from the rigging. He's trying to look brave, but looks like he's about to cry.

"You get double dinner today."

A beat. Then Zoro, who was sharpening his sword in the corner, stands up. "I'm not playing."

"No one asked you, mosshead." Sanji flicks ash off his cigarette. He's leaning against the mast, arms crossed, one ankle hooked over the other. The white button-up, the black slacks, the hair falling over his right eye; all that combine makes him looks like he walked out of a noir film.

Luffy claps his hands. "EVERYONE PLAYING. READY. SET."

He slams his hands over his eyes.

"ONE… TWO… THREE…"

The crew scatters.

You run.

"Where do I go," You ask yourself "My room? No, that's too obvious. The hold, maybe?" You sigh "Come on, ____, think" Then an idea crosses your mind. "The galley!"

You slip through the door, pull it shut behind you, and freeze.

Sanji is already there.

He's standing at the counter, calmly chopping carrots. The knife moves in a steady, rhythmic thunk thunk thunk. He doesn't look up.

"Wrong hiding spot, love," he says. "Luffy checks here first. Every time."

"I panicked," you whisper.

"Clearly."

You hear Luffy's voice from the deck: "…TWENTY-FIVE… TWENTY-SIX…"

Sanji sighs. Sets down the knife. Wipes his hands on a towel. Then he looks at you.

"Pantry," he says. "Now."

He grabs your wrist—firm, warm, purposeful—and pulls you toward the narrow door at the back of the galley. It's not a walk-in. It's a closet. Shelves of spices, sacks of flour, jars of pickled vegetables.

"In there?" you hiss.

"Unless you'd rather lose."

He opens the door, nudges you inside, and follows you in.

Darkness. Tight. Hot. Your back hits a shelf and a bag of rice digs into your spine. Sanji is in front of you—too close, his chest an inch from yours, his shoulder brushing the doorframe.

He pulls the door shut.

The latch clicks.

And then—nothing.

Total darkness. You can't see your own hand. You can't see anything except the tiny glow of light coming from under the door.

He's standing sideways now, trying to give you space. But there is no space. His hip presses against your thigh. His breath is warm on your forehead.

"Breathe," he says quietly.

"I am breathing."

"Breathe slower. You're going to hyperventilate."

You try. You really try. But his cologne is everywhere—smoke and sandalwood and something clean like soap—and his hand is still on your wrist, and you can feel his pulse under his thumb.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Steady. Calm. Like he does this every day.

"…FIFTY… FIFTY-ONE…" Luffy's voice, muffled through the hull.

"How are you so calm?" you whisper.

Sanji doesn't answer. You can barely see the corner of his lips lifting into a side smile.

Outside, Luffy hits one hundred.

Silence.

Then—a scream. Usopp. High and terrified and absolutely pathetic.

"SIKE!" Luffy's laugh echoes across the deck. "GOT YOU, USOPP!"

"I WASN'T EVEN—" A pause. "Okay, I was hiding. But that was mean."

You almost laugh. Sanji's thumb presses into your wrist. A warning: quiet.

Footsteps on the deck, then the galley door creaks open and you stop breathing.

Luffy's voice, sing-song: "Sanjiiii… I know you're in here. I can smell the carrots."

He doesn't answer. His hand tightens around yours and his body shifts to angle himself between you and the door. His shoulder presses into your collarbone, his hip digs into your thigh, his face is inches from yours.

Sanji doesn't move. Doesn't flinch. He just looks at you. Even in the dark, you can feel his gaze. Heavy. Focused.

He presses his palm flat against the shelf next to your head. Caging you in. His forehead drops to yours.

He smiles. Just a little. Just enough for you to see it in the dark.

Don't. Move.

Luffy's footsteps get closer. The pantry door is right there. A thin piece of wood between you and being found.

The handle jiggles and then stops.

Luffy sniffs loudly. "Hmm. Not in here."

His footsteps retreat. The galley door creaks shut.

Silence.

Neither of you breathes.

Sanji doesn't pull back. His forehead is still pressed to yours. His breath is hot and shaky. His chest rises and falls against yours — fast, despite how calm he looked outside.

"He didn't open it," you whisper.

"No," he agrees. His voice is lower than you've ever heard it. "He didn't."

A beat.

"You're shaking," you say.

"I know."

He still doesn't move. His body is a wall of heat pinning you to the shelves, not leaving you other thing in sight but him.

"We should probably go out there," you say.

"We should."

Neither of you moves.

His nose brushes yours. Once. Twice. Testing.

"Sanji."

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs.

You don't.

His thumb starts tracing a slow circle on your hip — bare skin, just under the hem of your shirt.

"Sanji," you whisper.

His name sounds different in the dark. Thicker. He notices. His breath catches.

"Say that again," he murmurs.

"Sanji."

He kisses you.

Full and firm and deliberate. His lips slant over yours like he's been waiting for permission his whole life, his hand leaves your hip and cups your face — thumb on your cheek, fingers buried in your hair — tilting your head exactly where he wants you.

You make a sound. Small. Embarrassing. He swallows it.

When he pulls back, you're both breathing too fast.

"Oh, cherié."

He kisses you again. Slower this time. His tongue traces your lower lip. Asks. You open for him and he makes a quiet noise — almost a groan — and his hips press into yours involuntarily. The shelf creaks behind you.

He pulls back again. His forehead drops to your shoulder.

"Sorry," he breathes. "Sorry. I shouldn't— we're in a pantry. Anyone could—"

"No one's coming."

"You don't know that."

"You're the one who hasn't moved."

He laughs. Quiet. Broken. His lips press against the collar of your shirt.

"I know," he says. "I know."

His hands are shaking now. You feel it — his fingers trembling against your face, your hip, wherever they're touching.

"Look at me," you say.

He does. Even in the dark, you can see the conflict in his eyes. Want and restraint fighting in real time.

"I'm not telling you to stop," you say.

His jaw tightens.

"You should."

"But I'm not."

He stares at you for a long, agonizing second. Then something in him breaks — or maybe snaps into place.

His mouth crashes into yours again. Hungrier. Less careful. His hand slides from your face down your side, over your ribs, your waist, gripping your thigh and hooking it around his hip. The new angle pulls you flush against him — every inch of him pressed into every inch of you.

You gasp into his mouth. He swallows that too.

His hips roll into yours once — slow, deliberate, questioning. You answer by pulling him closer. His groan vibrates against your lips.

"Tell me," he pants, pulling back just enough to speak. "Tell me you want this."

"I want this."

"Tell me it's not just the dark. Not just the game. Not just—"

You kiss him quiet.

"It's not," you say against his lips. "It's you."

His breath shudders out of him. His whole body relaxes — just for a second — before he kisses you again. Harder this time.

His hand slides from your thigh down to the back of your knee, hiking your leg higher. Your skirt rides up. His bare fingers press into the back of your thigh.

"Fuck," he whispers — and you've never heard him swear like that. Breathless. Desperate.

His mouth finds your neck. Not gentle this time. He sucks hard just below your jaw — enough to leave a mark. His tongue soothes it immediately after.

"Sanji — someone's going to see—"

"Good," he says against your skin.

His teeth graze your collarbone. His hand slides higher — from your thigh to your waist to the curve of your ribs. His thumb brushes the underside of your breast. He pauses.

Looks up at you.

"Okay?" he asks.

You nod. Barely.

His thumb brushes again — higher this time. Your back arches off the shelf. His hand covers you fully, palm warm and rough through the thin fabric of your shirt.

He makes a sound. Low. Hungry.

"You have no idea," he murmurs, "how long I've wanted—"

The ship creaks. Footsteps above.

Both of you freeze.

Luffy's voice, distant: "WHERE IS EVERYONE? THIS GAME IS BORING NOW."

Sanji's forehead drops to yours. His chest is heaving. His hand is still on you. He doesn't move it.

"We should stop," he whispers.

"We should."

But neither of you moves.

His thumb flicks over you once — slow, deliberate — through your shirt. Your breath hitches.

"We're going to get caught," he says.

"Probably."

His mouth finds yours again. Softer this time. Almost sweet.

"One more minute," he breathes.

You pull him closer.

"Make it ten."

He laughs quietly against your mouth — a broken, desperate sound — and then his lips are on yours again. His hand slides back up to your face, cradling your jaw like you're something precious. But his hips don't stop moving. Slow. Rolling into yours in the dark. The shelf creaks with every shift of his weight.

Your fingers find the collar of his shirt. The white button-up. You fist the fabric and pull him closer — impossibly closer.

His hand leaves your face. Slides down your stomach. His fingers hook under the waistband of your pants — just a finger's width. Testing. Asking.

"Sanji—"

"I know," he whispers. "I know."

He doesn't go further, but he doesn't pull away either. His thumb presses into the soft skin just above your hip bone. His forehead stays pressed to yours.

"After this," he says, voice raw, "when we're not hiding in a closet like idiots — I'm going to take my time with you."

Your breath catches.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He kisses the corner of your mouth. "Properly. Somewhere with a bed. And a lock. And no rubber pirates trying to scare us."

You laugh. Quiet. He smiles against your cheek.

His hand slides out of your waistband. His thigh pulls back from between your legs. He doesn't go far, just enough to let you both breathe.

"We should actually go now," he says.

"I know."

"Luffy's going to come looking again."

"I know."

Sanji doesn't move. His hands are on your waist now. Thumbs tracing slow circles. His eyes are still dark, still hungry, but there's something softer underneath.

"You first," he says.

"Together."

He hesitates. Then nods.

He reaches behind him — careful, not letting go of you — and finds the door latch. His fingers curl around it.

"Ready?" he whispers.

"No."

He smiles. Real. Warm. Even in the dark.

"Me neither."

He opens the door.

Light floods in. You both squint. The galley is empty. The carrots are still on the cutting board. The knife is still there. Everything looks exactly the same.

Nothing has changed. Except everything has.

Sanji steps out first. Offers you his hand. You take it.

He doesn't let go when you're both standing in the galley. He doesn't let go when you hear Luffy scream "THERE YOU ARE" from the deck.

He just looks at you — flushed, lips swollen, hair a mess — and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You look like you've been hiding in a pantry," he says.

"So do you."

He grins. Lifts your hand to his mouth. Presses a kiss to your knuckles.

"Worth it."

You walk out to the deck.

Sanji follows a few seconds later, lighting a fresh cigarette. His hair is still slightly disheveled — one strand falling over his eye that he doesn't bother fixing, his shirt has wrinkles across the chest from where you grabbed him. He doesn't seem to care.

Luffy is sitting on the mast, pouting. "You guys are no fun, I couldn't find you."

Zoro is back to sharpening his sword. He glances up, looks at you, looks at Sanji and rolls his eyes so hard it's almost theatrical.

"Took you long enough."

Sanji doesn't rise to it the way he usually does. No immediate kick. No shouting match. He just flicks ash in Zoro's general direction.

"Shut up, mosshead."

But his voice is lighter. Distracted. His eyes keep drifting back to you.

You sit down on the deck, legs crossed, trying to act normal. Trying to ignore the phantom feeling of his hands on your waist, his mouth on your neck.

Sanji sits next to you. Closer than he needs to. His shoulder presses against yours his thigh lines up with yours. Anyone paying attention would notice. He doesn't seem to care about that either.

Nami catches your eye from across the deck. She raises one eyebrow. Smirks.

You look away, face hot.

"You have something," Nami says sweetly, tapping her own jaw, "right about here."

Your hand flies to your neck. You feel it — the spot Sanji marked. Still slightly tender.

Your face goes nuclear.

Sanji, without missing a beat, takes a slow drag of his cigarette and exhales toward the sky. "Bug," he says flatly. "Big one. Had to get it off her neck."

Nami's smirk deepens. "Must have been a very aggressive bug."

"Very," Sanji agrees. His knee bumps yours. Deliberate.

Zoro snorts but doesn't look up.

You want to die. You also want to kiss Sanji again. It's a confusing feeling.

He offers you his cigarette. "Want a drag?"

"I don't smoke."

"You could start."

You take the cigarette. Your fingers brush. You bring it to your lips, inhale, and immediately cough.

Sanji grins.

"Atta girl," he says.

And when he takes the cigarette back, his fingers linger on yours. Not accidentally. Not briefly. He holds on for a full second longer than necessary.

Nami pretends to be very interested in her book.

Luffy, oblivious, swings down from the mast. "I'm hungry. Sanji, make meat."

Sanji doesn't move. His shoulder is still pressed against yours. His pinky hooks around yours on the deck between you — hidden from everyone except the two of you.

"Yeah," he says, not looking away from your face. "In a minute."

[starkourtmall]

Hide and... sike?

navigation ☆★

pairing: Sanji x reader

summary: You picked the wrong hiding spot and he followed you. Now the game is over — but neither of you wants to leave.

WARNINGS: a liiiitle bit of smut

Luffy is standing on the figurehead, arms wide, screaming into the wind like a man who has never had a single anxious thought in his entire life.

"WE'RE PLAYING HIDE AND SIKE!"

Nami, curled up with a book, doesn't look up. "That's not a real thing, Luffy."

"It is now." Luffy jumps down, landing in a crouch. His grin is too big for his face. "I close my eyes. I count to a hundred and you hide. When I find you, I sike you out. If you flinch or scream, you lose."

"And if we don't?" Usopp asks from the rigging. He's trying to look brave, but looks like he's about to cry.

"You get double dinner today."

A beat. Then Zoro, who was sharpening his sword in the corner, stands up. "I'm not playing."

"No one asked you, mosshead." Sanji flicks ash off his cigarette. He's leaning against the mast, arms crossed, one ankle hooked over the other. The white button-up, the black slacks, the hair falling over his right eye; all that combine makes him looks like he walked out of a noir film.

Luffy claps his hands. "EVERYONE PLAYING. READY. SET."

He slams his hands over his eyes.

"ONE… TWO… THREE…"

The crew scatters.

You run.

"Where do I go," You ask yourself "My room? No, that's too obvious. The hold, maybe?" You sigh "Come on, ____, think" Then an idea crosses your mind. "The galley!"

You slip through the door, pull it shut behind you, and freeze.

Sanji is already there.

He's standing at the counter, calmly chopping carrots. The knife moves in a steady, rhythmic thunk thunk thunk. He doesn't look up.

"Wrong hiding spot, love," he says. "Luffy checks here first. Every time."

"I panicked," you whisper.

"Clearly."

You hear Luffy's voice from the deck: "…TWENTY-FIVE… TWENTY-SIX…"

Sanji sighs. Sets down the knife. Wipes his hands on a towel. Then he looks at you.

"Pantry," he says. "Now."

He grabs your wrist—firm, warm, purposeful—and pulls you toward the narrow door at the back of the galley. It's not a walk-in. It's a closet. Shelves of spices, sacks of flour, jars of pickled vegetables.

"In there?" you hiss.

"Unless you'd rather lose."

He opens the door, nudges you inside, and follows you in.

Darkness. Tight. Hot. Your back hits a shelf and a bag of rice digs into your spine. Sanji is in front of you—too close, his chest an inch from yours, his shoulder brushing the doorframe.

He pulls the door shut.

The latch clicks.

And then—nothing.

Total darkness. You can't see your own hand. You can't see anything except the tiny glow of light coming from under the door.

He's standing sideways now, trying to give you space. But there is no space. His hip presses against your thigh. His breath is warm on your forehead.

"Breathe," he says quietly.

"I am breathing."

"Breathe slower. You're going to hyperventilate."

You try. You really try. But his cologne is everywhere—smoke and sandalwood and something clean like soap—and his hand is still on your wrist, and you can feel his pulse under his thumb.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Steady. Calm. Like he does this every day.

"…FIFTY… FIFTY-ONE…" Luffy's voice, muffled through the hull.

"How are you so calm?" you whisper.

Sanji doesn't answer. You can barely see the corner of his lips lifting into a side smile.

Outside, Luffy hits one hundred.

Silence.

Then—a scream. Usopp. High and terrified and absolutely pathetic.

"SIKE!" Luffy's laugh echoes across the deck. "GOT YOU, USOPP!"

"I WASN'T EVEN—" A pause. "Okay, I was hiding. But that was mean."

You almost laugh. Sanji's thumb presses into your wrist. A warning: quiet.

Footsteps on the deck, then the galley door creaks open and you stop breathing.

Luffy's voice, sing-song: "Sanjiiii… I know you're in here. I can smell the carrots."

He doesn't answer. His hand tightens around yours and his body shifts to angle himself between you and the door. His shoulder presses into your collarbone, his hip digs into your thigh, his face is inches from yours.

Sanji doesn't move. Doesn't flinch. He just looks at you. Even in the dark, you can feel his gaze. Heavy. Focused.

He presses his palm flat against the shelf next to your head. Caging you in. His forehead drops to yours.

He smiles. Just a little. Just enough for you to see it in the dark.

Don't. Move.

Luffy's footsteps get closer. The pantry door is right there. A thin piece of wood between you and being found.

The handle jiggles and then stops.

Luffy sniffs loudly. "Hmm. Not in here."

His footsteps retreat. The galley door creaks shut.

Silence.

Neither of you breathes.

Sanji doesn't pull back. His forehead is still pressed to yours. His breath is hot and shaky. His chest rises and falls against yours — fast, despite how calm he looked outside.

"He didn't open it," you whisper.

"No," he agrees. His voice is lower than you've ever heard it. "He didn't."

A beat.

"You're shaking," you say.

"I know."

He still doesn't move. His body is a wall of heat pinning you to the shelves, not leaving you other thing in sight but him.

"We should probably go out there," you say.

"We should."

Neither of you moves.

His nose brushes yours. Once. Twice. Testing.

"Sanji."

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs.

You don't.

His thumb starts tracing a slow circle on your hip — bare skin, just under the hem of your shirt.

"Sanji," you whisper.

His name sounds different in the dark. Thicker. He notices. His breath catches.

"Say that again," he murmurs.

"Sanji."

He kisses you.

Full and firm and deliberate. His lips slant over yours like he's been waiting for permission his whole life, his hand leaves your hip and cups your face — thumb on your cheek, fingers buried in your hair — tilting your head exactly where he wants you.

You make a sound. Small. Embarrassing. He swallows it.

When he pulls back, you're both breathing too fast.

"Oh, cherié."

He kisses you again. Slower this time. His tongue traces your lower lip. Asks. You open for him and he makes a quiet noise — almost a groan — and his hips press into yours involuntarily. The shelf creaks behind you.

He pulls back again. His forehead drops to your shoulder.

"Sorry," he breathes. "Sorry. I shouldn't— we're in a pantry. Anyone could—"

"No one's coming."

"You don't know that."

"You're the one who hasn't moved."

He laughs. Quiet. Broken. His lips press against the collar of your shirt.

"I know," he says. "I know."

His hands are shaking now. You feel it — his fingers trembling against your face, your hip, wherever they're touching.

"Look at me," you say.

He does. Even in the dark, you can see the conflict in his eyes. Want and restraint fighting in real time.

"I'm not telling you to stop," you say.

His jaw tightens.

"You should."

"But I'm not."

He stares at you for a long, agonizing second. Then something in him breaks — or maybe snaps into place.

His mouth crashes into yours again. Hungrier. Less careful. His hand slides from your face down your side, over your ribs, your waist, gripping your thigh and hooking it around his hip. The new angle pulls you flush against him — every inch of him pressed into every inch of you.

You gasp into his mouth. He swallows that too.

His hips roll into yours once — slow, deliberate, questioning. You answer by pulling him closer. His groan vibrates against your lips.

"Tell me," he pants, pulling back just enough to speak. "Tell me you want this."

"I want this."

"Tell me it's not just the dark. Not just the game. Not just—"

You kiss him quiet.

"It's not," you say against his lips. "It's you."

His breath shudders out of him. His whole body relaxes — just for a second — before he kisses you again. Harder this time.

His hand slides from your thigh down to the back of your knee, hiking your leg higher. Your skirt rides up. His bare fingers press into the back of your thigh.

"Fuck," he whispers — and you've never heard him swear like that. Breathless. Desperate.

His mouth finds your neck. Not gentle this time. He sucks hard just below your jaw — enough to leave a mark. His tongue soothes it immediately after.

"Sanji — someone's going to see—"

"Good," he says against your skin.

His teeth graze your collarbone. His hand slides higher — from your thigh to your waist to the curve of your ribs. His thumb brushes the underside of your breast. He pauses.

Looks up at you.

"Okay?" he asks.

You nod. Barely.

His thumb brushes again — higher this time. Your back arches off the shelf. His hand covers you fully, palm warm and rough through the thin fabric of your shirt.

He makes a sound. Low. Hungry.

"You have no idea," he murmurs, "how long I've wanted—"

The ship creaks. Footsteps above.

Both of you freeze.

Luffy's voice, distant: "WHERE IS EVERYONE? THIS GAME IS BORING NOW."

Sanji's forehead drops to yours. His chest is heaving. His hand is still on you. He doesn't move it.

"We should stop," he whispers.

"We should."

But neither of you moves.

His thumb flicks over you once — slow, deliberate — through your shirt. Your breath hitches.

"We're going to get caught," he says.

"Probably."

His mouth finds yours again. Softer this time. Almost sweet.

"One more minute," he breathes.

You pull him closer.

"Make it ten."

He laughs quietly against your mouth — a broken, desperate sound — and then his lips are on yours again. His hand slides back up to your face, cradling your jaw like you're something precious. But his hips don't stop moving. Slow. Rolling into yours in the dark. The shelf creaks with every shift of his weight.

Your fingers find the collar of his shirt. The white button-up. You fist the fabric and pull him closer — impossibly closer.

His hand leaves your face. Slides down your stomach. His fingers hook under the waistband of your pants — just a finger's width. Testing. Asking.

"Sanji—"

"I know," he whispers. "I know."

He doesn't go further, but he doesn't pull away either. His thumb presses into the soft skin just above your hip bone. His forehead stays pressed to yours.

"After this," he says, voice raw, "when we're not hiding in a closet like idiots — I'm going to take my time with you."

Your breath catches.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He kisses the corner of your mouth. "Properly. Somewhere with a bed. And a lock. And no rubber pirates trying to scare us."

You laugh. Quiet. He smiles against your cheek.

His hand slides out of your waistband. His thigh pulls back from between your legs. He doesn't go far, just enough to let you both breathe.

"We should actually go now," he says.

"I know."

"Luffy's going to come looking again."

"I know."

Sanji doesn't move. His hands are on your waist now. Thumbs tracing slow circles. His eyes are still dark, still hungry, but there's something softer underneath.

"You first," he says.

"Together."

He hesitates. Then nods.

He reaches behind him — careful, not letting go of you — and finds the door latch. His fingers curl around it.

"Ready?" he whispers.

"No."

He smiles. Real. Warm. Even in the dark.

"Me neither."

He opens the door.

Light floods in. You both squint. The galley is empty. The carrots are still on the cutting board. The knife is still there. Everything looks exactly the same.

Nothing has changed. Except everything has.

Sanji steps out first. Offers you his hand. You take it.

He doesn't let go when you're both standing in the galley. He doesn't let go when you hear Luffy scream "THERE YOU ARE" from the deck.

He just looks at you — flushed, lips swollen, hair a mess — and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You look like you've been hiding in a pantry," he says.

"So do you."

He grins. Lifts your hand to his mouth. Presses a kiss to your knuckles.

"Worth it."

You walk out to the deck.

Sanji follows a few seconds later, lighting a fresh cigarette. His hair is still slightly disheveled — one strand falling over his eye that he doesn't bother fixing, his shirt has wrinkles across the chest from where you grabbed him. He doesn't seem to care.

Luffy is sitting on the mast, pouting. "You guys are no fun, I couldn't find you."

Zoro is back to sharpening his sword. He glances up, looks at you, looks at Sanji and rolls his eyes so hard it's almost theatrical.

"Took you long enough."

Sanji doesn't rise to it the way he usually does. No immediate kick. No shouting match. He just flicks ash in Zoro's general direction.

"Shut up, mosshead."

But his voice is lighter. Distracted. His eyes keep drifting back to you.

You sit down on the deck, legs crossed, trying to act normal. Trying to ignore the phantom feeling of his hands on your waist, his mouth on your neck.

Sanji sits next to you. Closer than he needs to. His shoulder presses against yours his thigh lines up with yours. Anyone paying attention would notice. He doesn't seem to care about that either.

Nami catches your eye from across the deck. She raises one eyebrow. Smirks.

You look away, face hot.

"You have something," Nami says sweetly, tapping her own jaw, "right about here."

Your hand flies to your neck. You feel it — the spot Sanji marked. Still slightly tender.

Your face goes nuclear.

Sanji, without missing a beat, takes a slow drag of his cigarette and exhales toward the sky. "Bug," he says flatly. "Big one. Had to get it off her neck."

Nami's smirk deepens. "Must have been a very aggressive bug."

"Very," Sanji agrees. His knee bumps yours. Deliberate.

Zoro snorts but doesn't look up.

You want to die. You also want to kiss Sanji again. It's a confusing feeling.

He offers you his cigarette. "Want a drag?"

"I don't smoke."

"You could start."

You take the cigarette. Your fingers brush. You bring it to your lips, inhale, and immediately cough.

Sanji grins.

"Atta girl," he says.

And when he takes the cigarette back, his fingers linger on yours. Not accidentally. Not briefly. He holds on for a full second longer than necessary.

Nami pretends to be very interested in her book.

Luffy, oblivious, swings down from the mast. "I'm hungry. Sanji, make meat."

Sanji doesn't move. His shoulder is still pressed against yours. His pinky hooks around yours on the deck between you — hidden from everyone except the two of you.

"Yeah," he says, not looking away from your face. "In a minute."

[reinerismwrld]

Are we… In an alliance?

PAIRING: Smoker x f!Reader

SUMMARY: You knew the New World was going to bring new adventures and surprises, and you didn’t expect to find the man who had been haunting your mind on an island that was supposed to be abandoned.

GENRE: Smut

WARNINGS: Minor spoilers for Punk Hazard, a tiny little bit of angst.

WORD COUNT: 2.4k words

Part 2 < Current Part > Part 4?

2 years. 2 fucking years had passed. And to say Smoker’s breathing didn’t catch up on his throat the moment he saw you again would be a lie. Because he still remembered you so vividly. The way your soft skin felt against his, the way you looked at him in Loguetown and Alabasta, the way you sounded, your sweet scent. He remembered everything, even the last time he saw you.

You were almost going to die. And somehow, all of you (even him) managed to escape the insane trap Crocodile put you in. And even with your whole body drenched, barely breathing, and coughing, you still looked perfect in his eyes.

Which brings him to what he would call his biggest issue with the Straw Hats. He was conflicted. Because, why did a pirate save his life back in Alabasta? Why did a pirate crew save a whole country? And the biggest question that has bugged his mind ever since… Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? 

2 years. 2 fucking years where he thought you were dead, just as the rest of your crew. And of course, he wasn’t the only one who thought that. The Marines, the world government, every single person thought that, and he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was so relieved when he saw the newspaper reporting that you and your whole crew were seen a few days ago at Sabaody.

And now here you were, standing next to the pirate hunter, looking at him.

He was glad two of your other crewmates distracted Trafalgar and Straw Hat so that he could watch you a little longer, and then you smiled. You fucking smiled at him. But that didn’t last long. You quickly turned around and made your way to your fellow crewmate, the girl with the orange hair, Nami. He wasn’t able to hear a thing you were saying, but he saw your excitement at whatever Trafalgar did a few moments ago.

The plan was simple: make your way to the “R” building. Of course, everyone had other things to do, like Luffy wanting to kick Caesar’s ass, Law wanting to destroy a lab, and him wanting to kick Vergo’s ass. It appears that you also had your own plan to protect the kids and help them escape this hell of a laboratory, at least that’s what he was able to hear.

And his heart melted, because how can a pirate care about some random kids? And he hated himself, because he was really wishing nothing would happen to you, and for the next few hours, he knew he needed to concentrate, but only you were in his mind.

This ship was immense, and you didn’t know where to go. You were actually searching for the rooms where the kids were being taken care of by Law, but you were more than sure that at this point, you were lost. You understood what it was like to be Zoro for a moment, and you promised yourself that you were never ever going to make fun of him.

At this point, you just wanted to leave and go outside, where everyone was having fun, and you were sure there was a delicious meal Sanji had prepared, when you saw him. And you forgot how to talk.

He had some bandages covering his torso, and somehow you could still see his muscles and abs. You didn't care if you were staring a little too much at him. He cleared his throat, and you finally looked at him. You smiled.

“I think I’m lost.” 

“Figured. Trafalgar and your raccoon friend are already outside.”

“Reindeer.” You corrected him 

“Hmh?”

“Chopper, he’s a reindeer.” 

“He looks like a raccoon to me.” You only nodded. Everyone seemed to see him that way.

“Then… what are you doing here, captain?” Smoker only looked at you intensely. Knowing fully well that he had to admit, he was desperate to see and talk to you.

“Looking for you.” You raised an eyebrow at the confession. You weren’t expecting him to be so… direct. And you tried your best to remain calm, even as, inside, you felt like doing flips and jumping from happiness, face heating up.

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say, how to react. This was new territory for both of you. Previous interactions only left space for sex, no talking. However, it felt good. Peaceful even. But the moment didn’t last for long, as you could hear some of the G-5 men calling for Smoker. They were getting closer and closer, so Smoker did what he thought was the best idea: take you to the closest room and hide, wanting to spend more time with you before any of you had to leave Punk Hazard.

He quickly found an open room and took both of you, closing the door as quickly as possible, making you crash against it, with him being really close to you. His breathing left a tingling sensation on your forehead. You looked up and saw him looking directly at you, making your breathing hitch. You waited for a few more seconds, waiting for the voices to fade so you could talk again. You had so many questions: you wanted to know how he ended up leading the G-5, how he ended up on the New World, and, most importantly, why he was looking for you.

But it appears that Smoker was more eager since he was the one who broke the silence.

“I thought you were dead.” He confessed.

“Hmh? Like you mean a few moments ago or…” You knew he meant that 2-year break that you all took.

“Both. But I’m so glad I found you here.” He grabbed your cheek and caressed it. Smoker didn’t know what took over him, but for once, he wanted to be honest and stop pretending he wasn’t worried sick about you.

“Well, look at you, captain, who would’ve thought you actually have a heart?” You said in a playful tone and smiled. Both of you were now looking into each other’s eyes. You didn’t need to have more conversation, you knew why he was there, and god, you were craving for it too, so you took the initiative and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him closer to you, and kissed him. You sighed into the kiss after feeling Smoker’s arms wrapped around your waist.

You felt hot, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the big-ass coat you were wearing, or the fact that after 2 long years, you were finally doing what you were craving the most with the man who had been haunting your thoughts ever since you saw him for the first time in Loguetown.

The kiss deepened, none of you wanting to break it. You had so little time, however, you still wanted to enjoy this as much as possible. Knowing fully well that this could be the last time you could see each other, at least for the next few months or even years. Your hand slowly made its way to his hair and tugged it, earning a groan from him.

“Smoke-” you moaned his name as he started to suck the skin of your neck.

“You sound so sweet, but we have to keep it down.” You only nodded and quickly took off your coat, knowing it was only going to get in the way. You shivered the moment you felt the cold air hit your body. Smoker didn’t let that bother you though, because as soon as you were free of that heavy thing, he continued kissing you.

Your hands found his waist and started to remove his belt and unbutton his jeans. He, on the other hand, had one hand resting on your head, while the other one prevented your head from hitting the metallic door. Once you were finally able to unbutton your jeans, Smoker helped you remove them completely.

You grabbed his cock and started to smear the precum that was coming out all over his shaft, stroking him, making him get harder with every movement.

You moved your panties to the side and started to guide him to your pussy.

“Eager, aren’t we?” You didn’t respond. You only started to rub his tip against your entrance while looking into his eyes. He didn’t need to be told what to do. He tapped one of your legs so you could move it up, then grabbed it, giving him better access to you.

You stopped breathing the moment he was slowly sliding into you. You swore he was splitting you up, filling you up so good.

“Shit. I forgot how tight you were.” He hissed, giving you time to adjust his size, but as soon as he stopped, you started moving your hips for some kind of friction. That’s all it took for Smoker to start thrusting into you. Each of them sent shockwaves through your body. God, how you missed this feeling, being opened up so good. His cock hit the most secluded area of your inner walls. And then he hit that sweet spot that would make you see stars. 

Your head snapped back against the door, and you closed your eyes, trying to remember the way his cock was massaging your insides.

“Fuck, you are so perfect, my pretty girl.” He managed to say in between thrusts. You clenched around him, making him groan. “God, I missed this. I missed you so much.” You opened your eyes and whined. He was looking at you as if you were a goddess. Someone who has been haunting him for so long, and he finally was able to get a taste of. Your body trembled every time he slammed into you. He could feel your knees starting to get weak, so with one swift movement, he picked you up as if you were nothing, moving your body off the door, both of your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck automatically. The new position made him sink further into you, if it was even possible, your clit was now rubbing against his lower abdomen, providing you with more pleasure.

“F-fuck, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You babbled, head resting against the crook of his neck.

“You have no idea how much I missed this pretty pussy, how much I was craving for your body. God, what did you do to me?” Every thrust was starting to leave you breathless, slowly building up your arousal.

“S’too much.” Tears were starting to prickle your eyes, too overwhelmed. His scent, his body heat, the rush of knowing fully well that anyone from your or his crew could find you in such a compromising position… Gosh, you were so scared but so excited at the same time.

Smoker, didn’t even acknowledge what you just said, too pussydrunk even to understand what you meant. “You know how many nights I jerked off imagining it was your pretty hands that were making me cum, how many days I wish you were there at the end of the day, waiting for me?” Your mind for a split moment imagined the scene, you would be able to be with him every night, you wouldn’t have to sneak and fuck in alleys, abandoned places, or in secret. He would make you feel amazing every single day, and not only when the universe wanted to make you cross paths. Your mind was somewhere else, but your body was fully present in his ministrations. Pussy getting wetter with every movement, throbbing around him.

“Sh-it.” You choked out. Your legs and arms started to tense around him, and your body’s temperature started to rise. “Like that, please, keep going.” You whined.

“God, I’m gonna fuck you so good that your pussy will only remember the shape of my cock.” His pace grew more and more desperate. “No one will be able to make you feel this good. Got it?” You nodded against his neck, focusing on chasing your own release, and with one brutal thrust, your whole body convulsed, waves of pleasure roaming all over your body.

Smoker could feel your pussy pulsing around his cock, and it didn’t take long for him to paint your walls with his seed. You stayed like that for some minutes, his cock still inside you, and you could feel his cum leaking out of you.

“Come with me.” The words came out of Smoker before he even comprehended what he had just said.

“What?”

“Leave them and come with me. You could be part of my crew. I will protect you. No one will dare to say anything.” Your heart warmed up at the request, and you understood that it was the after-bliss talking. He wasn’t thinking properly. 

“I can’t.” You started to move so you could stand by yourself, slowly getting him out of you, whimpering at the loss. You went and grabbed your jeans and put them on, while Smoker also fixed his clothes. Smoker didn’t say anything. He was just waiting for an explanation.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m a pirate. And you know what the Marines do to us. Best-case scenario, I get taken to Impel Down. Worst one-“ You didn’t need to finish that sentence. You could see a hint of disappointment on his face. “I’m gonna miss you.” You confessed, trying to distract him. He grabbed you by the neck and kissed you one more time. Knowing this would be the last time he was going to be able to do it, at least for now.

The last moments seemed so surreal. The two of you allowed yourselves to be honest with each other, opened up (mostly him), and let all the emotions that had been pent up for so long out. You knew this was going to change everything. You broke the kiss, even though it physically hurt to do so.

“I’m going to miss you too.” You couldn’t help but smile and gave him only one last kiss.

As the Sunny was finally leaving Punk Hazard, you could feel your heart break a little. And that was when realization hit. 

You were so damn in love with Smoker, but unfortunately, he was a marine, and you were a pirate. Maybe if the circumstances were different, you wouldn’t think twice and would leave whatever life you had to be with him. But in this one, you would have to live with the fact that you couldn’t be with him.

As for now, you need to focus on your dream and your friends’ dreams. The only thing you could look forward to was to meet him again in the future, and maybe, just maybe, you would allow yourself to choose him.

A/N: Oh, the forbidden love these two have... Guess we would have to wait for their next encounter... 🤭

n a v i g a t i o n

o n e  p i e c e  m a s t e r l i s t

[reinerismwrld]

Are you… A marine?

PAIRING: Smoker x f!Reader

SUMMARY: You should really start being cautious, even more now that you are a pirate and find yourself at the place where one of the biggest marine bases is. But could you really be blamed when the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life takes you to an alley to fuck you?

GENRE: Smut

WARNINGS: Exhibitionism kink.

WORD COUNT: 1.4k words

Current part > Part 2

Nami’s instructions were simple. Keep it on the low, buy everything you need without drawing too much attention, and then return to the Merry safe. And you thought you were doing a good job. You were taking a walk through Loguetown, just looking, in hopes of seeing something pretty enough worth a couple of berries, when you saw him.

A tall man, smoking two cigars. He was… distracting to say the least.

You tried your best to ignore him, continue with your plans, but you could feel his gaze, burning. He was following every move, every step, every breath, and god, you were going insane. 

A part of you was worried. Did you bring too much attention? Maybe he was suspecting you were a pirate. But the other part (the one you were worried could take control any time soon) was enjoying the attention and wanted to get closer to him, to keep his attention on you.

Was that a problem? Probably. Did you care? Not at all. You didn’t even know the man, but god, your mind was going through the most insane and hot scenarios in that moment.

It was simple, the man was hot.

A couple more minutes passed, and he was actually the one who approached you.

“Looking for somethin’ in particular?” You heard him say, but didn’t turn around to look at him.

“Not really, just, you know, looking around. Waiting for something to catch my eye.” You turned around and felt your breath caught in your throat. His presence was overwhelming. His whole body was towering over yours, and you felt something warm in your core, and your cheeks were burning. Your eyes roamed all over his uncovered chest, and smiled.

When you least expected it, he was cornering your whole body against a wall in an alley he guided you to. Mouth hot against your neck, while one of his hands was covering your mouth, preventing you from making any sounds.

“Mhng.” You rolled your eyes to the back of your head. Your lower part of your body was rubbing against his hard-on.

“Shh. You gotta keep quiet if you want me to continue.” You looked into his eyes and nodded. His hand left your mouth. Any self-respect you had flew out the window the moment you heard him groan.

Smoker didn’t know what possessed him. For god’s sake, he was supposed to be patrolling, waiting for any sign of the Straw Hat pirate or his crew. But here he was, hands all over the ass of some girl whom he had just met. And it felt incredible.

You thanked yourself for choosing to wear a skirt earlier that day, making this easier and quicker for him.

The man moved your skirt up, pooling it around your waist. He didn’t waste any time, knowing fully well this had to be as quick as possible if he didn’t want any of his subordinates to search for him and find him in such a compromising situation.

He moved your panties to the side, followed by unbuttoning his jeans. You looked down and swore that you felt your stomach flip after looking at his size. You couldn’t stop looking at his cock, and you thank whatever god was listening for letting you experience this before going into the Grand Line.

He started to smear his precum all over his shaft as some form of lubricant. He moved one of your legs to give him better access and a view of your entrance. He angled himself, and your breath hitched.

As he was slowly going inside of you, you closed your eyes and crashed your head into the wall. Smoker couldn’t believe how gorgeous you were. 

“Jump.” He whispered against your ear. You did as he said, and his grip on your waist was harder. Your legs wrapped around his waist. He waited just a little more before starting to move at a fast pace. Even if the two of you wanted to take your time, you knew this wasn’t going to be possible, at least not now.

You could feel every single time he was thrusting into you, making you shiver every single time his cock was hitting that spot that made your eyes roll. And the fact that anyone could just walk into this at any moment was making you get even more excited.

“F-ugh, taking me so well, aren’t you, pretty girl?” You felt yourself clench around him at the nickname. “So you liked being called that? Pretty?” Your body answered him involuntarily. He didn’t say anything else after that, he only wanted one thing: to feel you cum all around his cock.

Your gaze moved to the lower part where both of your bodies were connecting, and you couldn’t help but moan. Yeah, he was big, and you didn’t believe how you were able to take him all. There was a ring of precum and your juices forming at the base of this cock. You were hypnotized.

“Knew I wanted to have you like this the moment I saw you.” You started to roll your hips to match his thrusts, making the pleasure more intense, and you were grateful the man was strong enough to carry you and fuck you at the same time. 

You were sure this type of man only comes once in a lifetime, and you were kinda sad that this was going to be a one-time thing, but he didn’t let you think too much, since you could feel his cock throb inside you.

“I’m gonna-“ You finally managed to say something, barely.

“You gonna what?” He was enjoying this a little too much. But you look at you, such a pretty girl, too cockdrunk to even say a word.

“Cum, pleaseplease, I have to-,” you whimpered when the tip of his cock was slamming against your sweet spot. Tears started to form in your eyes. You didn’t think it was possible to cum with only thrusting, but here he was, proving you wrong.

Your hands tugged at his jacket, your knuckles turning white from the force. He was such a view. Shirtless, his well-put hair now messy, smirk too dangerous, too handsome.

“It’s ok pretty girl, you can cum. Cum all over my cock. Show me how good I made you feel.” His voice plus his breath against your cheek did it for you. Your whole body tensed while you felt the pleasure roaming all over your body, leaving you numb.

It didn’t take him long to also cum, your pussy squeezing him soooo good. You could only feel his cock pulse, and his breathing was uneven. Each thrust started to become erratic. You wouldn’t tell him, but the overstimulation was feeling a little too good. With one final thrust, he filled you up with his thick cum.

“Shit.” He said while resting his head on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean to-“ You only shook your head.

“It’s ok.” You whispered. Your mind was hazy, and everything felt unreal. You were coming down from your high, body too weak to even be able to stand up properly. Thankfully, the man’s strong arms were preventing you from falling to the floor.

The sound of a transponder snail brought you back to reality. 

“What happened?” He said as soon as he answered.

“Sir, pirates. Near the execution platform.” Pirates? Your gut told you, somehow, that your captain was involved. And the fact that the man who had just blown your mind a few minutes ago was receiving this call made you realize you had just made a mistake. A big one.

“Got it. See you there.” He ended the call and looked directly into your shocked eyes. “Gotta go pretty. Kinda bumbed out I have to leave you after this. But work’s calling.”

“Work?” You cleared your throat. “You are… You are… a marine.” You finally managed to say. The words felt heavy on your tongue.

“Smart.” He chuckled while he slowly put you down, making sure you were strong enough to stand on your own, and fixed your skirt. “I kinda wish we weren’t interrupted. But I really have to go.” He moved to the side the strands of hair that were covering your face to look at you one more time. You could feel his load drip down your thighs.

You wanted to say something to him, but you couldn’t really come up with anything, so you just nodded.

“I hope we meet again.” Oh, you were sure you were going to meet again.

A/N: He was so distracting while watching OPLA S2, my god I need him really bad. btw this was supposed to be posted yesterday, but i finished s2 yesterday and i was a crying mess and i was just too tired. s2 is just perfect!!!

n a v i g a t i o n

o n e  p i e c e  m a s t e r l i s t

[reinerismwrld]

Are you… A pirate?

PAIRING: Smoker x f!Reader

SUMMARY: You were praying you would never meet Smoker again after the fiasco at Loguetown. But the universe had other plans.

GENRE: Smut

WARNINGS: Rough sex.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k words

Part 1 < Current Part > Part 3

You were now in Alabasta, where a secret organization wanted to take your friend’s country under its control. A freaking warlord of the sea was behind all of this. And even under such pressure, you couldn’t even pay the proper attention to the situation the moment you saw Captain Smoker on the island.

Right now, he was gripping your arm, taking you to god knows where. And while you were letting him guide you (more like dragging you), you couldn’t help but remember the face he made when he saw you at the Loguetown’s plaza, near the execution platform, when you were fighting marines in order to escape with your crew. 

You felt guilty for a reason. You could still see the way his expression fell for just a moment before he quickly regained composure. Not showing how disappointed and angry he was. But now you could tell how mad he has been ever since that night.

He took you to what appeared to be an abandoned building, far from the main streets of Nanohana. He quickly opened the door, shoving you inside, making you almost trip thanks to your skirt and the force he used.

“Wow, you’re such a gentleman.” You scoffed at him. Making your way to the table that was in the middle of the room, and leaning onto it.

“What are you doing here?” Smoke was coming out of his mouth.

“You brought me here.” 

“What are you? A comedian?” You tried to suppress the smile that was forming on your face. Yeah, you wanted to have fun, or at least make him lose his patience and get on his nerves. “What are you doing in Alabasta?”

“Well, we…” You quickly stopped yourself from telling him anything. “None of your business, Captain.”

“It is my business, the moment I saw your captain. A captain, that let me remind you, has a bounty.” You rolled your eyes at his seriousness. What happened to the Smoker that fucked you in that alley? Oh yeah, he was an uptight marine captain who, unfortunately, was hotter while being angry.

“I can’t tell you. Really. And even if I could, I wouldn’t do it.” You whispered the last part the moment you saw him slowly walking in your direction. You were looking at the floor the moment he was just a few inches away from you. 

Smoker tried his best to be serious, to not show how much it was affecting him the fact that only a flimsy piece of fabric was covering your breasts, and he was thankful you didn’t dare to look back at him, because if you did, you were going to see his pupils fully blown out.

You, on the other hand, with this angle, could see his abs without being too obvious. You felt your face burn, embarrassed that even in this situation, you just wanted him to take you and make you his.

His hand gripped your neck, making you look him directly in the eyes. You gulped at the sudden action and couldn’t help but whimper. You didn’t realize when he stopped smoking and threw his cigars to the floor.

“You have no idea how mad I am right now. Why didn’t you tell me you were a pirate?” You grabbed his wrist with both of your hands, but didn’t try to move his hand away from you as if you were actually preventing him from letting you go.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a marine?”

“I did. Or did I fucked you stupid enough that you don’t remember it anymore, pretty girl?” Your grip became stronger. “What? Did I strike a nerve?” He smirked. 

“Fuck you.” You spat, and that was all it took for Smoker to lose all his temper. He let go of your neck and turned you around, back against his chest.

“Such a filthy mouth. I miss when the only sounds coming out of you were moans and whimpers.” He whispered against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You know this little outfit of yours lets little to the imagination.” He grabbed the fabric of your skirt, moving it up to have better access to your ass.

“Smoker…” you hissed.

“You want me to stop?” You waited for some seconds and shook your head. You needed him inside you the moment you heard him mutter, “Follow me,” when he found you. He quickly helped you remove your panties and put them in the pocket of his jacket since you were distracted. And just as before, you were both short on time.

You only felt his tip rubbing against your folds, using your wetness as a lubricant, smearing it all over his shaft. You could feel him splitting you open, making your body fall to the table, both arms preventing your face from hitting it. Your mind went blank, and your ears started buzzing as you adjusted to his size. It has only been a couple of days, and you missed the way he felt inside you.

He was now pounding into you, each thrust leaving you breathless. You hid your face in your arms and tried your best not to make any sound. Failing miserably.

“God, you feel so good. So sad you are a fucking pirate.” You clenched at his words, and he picked up the pace.

“Shitshitshitshit” you panted. This was nothing compared to the first time. You swore you could feel him in your stomach with every thrust. He was brutal. You felt overwhelmed.

His hands were gripping your hips strongly enough that you were sure he was going to leave bruises on your skin, a reminder of this encounter that you didn’t want to forget any time soon.

“That’s it. Made for taking my cock.” Your walls were fluttering around him. Shocks of electricity traveled from your core all over your body. Both of your hands were clenched into fists. 

“Sm-smokes.” You whimpered his name.

“You are so pretty when you are like this.” You used both of your arms to incorporate yourself. “Such.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Good.” Thrust. “Girl.” Thrust. One of his hands slid through your hair and yanked your head towards him.

“Smoker, please- please, I need to.” He chuckled.

“No, I don’t think so.” He started to slow down. And you groaned. So fucking unfair.

“Wait. No, please let me…” You gulped. You were thirsty. The hot weather, plus the previous actions, were leaving you lightheaded and not in a pleasant way. He was still grabbing you by the hair. “I’ll do anything.” He thrusted only once, earning a whine from you.

“Anything?” He started to move again. You could hear the wetness from your core. You could only hum since his hand was still on your head. “What are you doing here?”

“Not that.” And even if you managed once again to get on his nerves, he couldn’t deny that you felt really good all over his cock.

“No?” His hand slowly went to your neck, preventing you from falling to the table. You shook your head. That’s it. He wasn’t going to be merciful with you. You wanted to act like a brat? He will treat you like one. His pace was now frenetic, not leaving space for any type of break. Your orgasm was finally building up. He started to feel you throb around him and hissed.

“I shouldn’t let you cum. You don’t deserve it. Getting on my nerves. Lying to me-“

“ I didn’t-“ you interrupted him, and he tightened his grip around your neck, choking you.

“Don’t interrupt me. See? You don’t deserve to feel good. But fuck-“ His thrusts were starting to become sloppy. “I want to feel you, want to feel you squeeze my cock.” You managed to look him in the eye, and you could see it. The desire, the lust, the need. You shuddered. You were so close. 

“Plea-se” You whispered while looking into his eyes. Smoker didn’t know what had taken over him and kissed you. You sighed into the kiss, and with a brutal thrust, you came undone. Your whole body trembled, your mind disconnected. You felt like floating. Smoker wasn’t far behind from his own release. A few more thrusts and you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you.

You were too weak, and Smoker could tell. Your whole body relaxed, and he prevented you from collapsing by hugging you. Something inside you warmed up at the action, but you quickly suppressed it. 

You complained the moment you felt him move out of you, leaving you empty. physically and emotionally. His cum was leaking out of you. He took his time adjusting your clothes and turning you around, so now you were face-to-face, but not really looking at each other. Actually, both of you were looking anywhere but each other.

“I-“ he shook his head, and you put your lips in a fine line.

“I know you won’t tell me anything. And I don’t need to. But you need to know,” his hand grabbed your chin, making you look at him, “if your captain causes any disturbance, I’ll go for him, and this time I won’t let him go.” Your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach. You only nodded.

You stayed like that, looking into each other's eyes, not wanting to leave the musty place. Knowing fully well that the movement you leave, he was your enemy, and vice versa. And this time it was you who took the initiative to leave. As you made your way to the door, you turned your head around and smiled.

“Well, see you later, Captain.” And in the blink of an eye, you were gone. Smoker smiled. Of course, you knew he was going to see again. In the end, your captain was an expert on attracting attention.

A/N: This will definitely have a part 3

n a v i g a t i o n

o n e  p i e c e  m a s t e r l i s t