#105: Use the words fireworks, kiss and midnight in your next story.
#351: "I could kiss you right now!" "You're very welcome to do it."
#399: "Kiss me or kill me, but make up your mind right now."
#412: "One kiss before we die?" "You can get the kiss when we survive, so move!"
#447: Kissing in the rain sounds romantic until one of them ends up with pneumonia.
#488: "You kissed me." "You kissed me back." "And I'm not here to apologize."
#490: "I would appreciate it, if you would kiss me right now."
#555: "If you don't kiss me, right now…" "Then what?" "Then I will have to do it myself."
#577: "Are you going to hit me if I kiss you?" "I might if you don't."
#670: The kiss cam definitely had it in for her.
#832: "Why do I feel like that dog gets more kisses than me?"
#875: "When did you find out?" "When you kissed me, probably."
#978: She was not the type of person to back down from a dare. And everything he did was daring her to kiss him.
#1002: "I can't stop thinking about kissing you." "Then do it. Get it out of your head."
#1005: "Would you kiss me for 100€?" "Sorry, but I don't have any cash on me right now." "No, I mean I would give you 100€ to kiss me." "Why would you give me money to do something I would pay money to do?"
#1008: "It was just a kiss." "I know. But does it have to be just that?"
#1010: "Let's not worry about the future. Let's just take this one kiss at a time." "I like how that sounds."
#1016: All their kisses so far had been full of anger. Too rough, too desperate. This one was their first kiss that was soft, without urgency.
#1061: "I have wanted to kiss you every time I've seen you smile." "Then why haven't you yet?"
#1080: "I can't stop thinking about kissing you." "And what are you going to do about that?"
#1087: She wanted it all. The lazy mornings in bed, the fight over which movie to watch, the bumping into each other in their small kitchen. The disagreements and the tears and the kisses and their love. For once she wanted to be selfish, and she wanted to have it all.
#1122: "Well, I did kiss you back, didn't I?"
#1128: "You really love me? This is not a prank, right? Because then I would have to punch you and I actually really want to kiss you."
#1266: "Why is your stupid face just so kissable?"
#1303: "You almost kissed me." "And you sound disappointed that I didn't."
More: Kisses Masterpost
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Any advice for getting the nerve to post stuff (fics specifically) online? At this point I think I might just write what I want but sit on it till I’m emotionally ready enough to release it into the wild.
Hi, anon!
Honestly, sometimes you just have to post it! In the end, you have to remember it’s for you and your joy. There’s always a good chance someone else will enjoy it too and it’s fun to just share your work. For me, it’s worth it if even one person likes my stuff. Just write what you want and be you 👌
I really hope you do write that ghost!Roger fic you talked about in your post sometime, because I would give almost ANYTHINGGG to see it, I need to see Roger being a menace to a reader, PLEASE. <3
Hi, Anon!!! I have a plan for it!! I’m super excited about it tbh.
— the way Gol D. Roger lives rent free in my brain is a problem and now I want to write a fic where ghost!roger haunts reader and just pesters and its shenanigans
Summary: you come home, very drunk, and see a very hot guy sitting on your couch… so naturally you ask him out!
It starts with a simple, high-pitched gasp in the middle of your living room.
Jason is sitting on the couch in a gray t-shirt and sweatpants, laptop on his knees, mid-snack, when you stumble through the front door. You’re wearing one of his oversized jacket slung over your shoulders, your cheeks flushed red from two too many margaritas with your friends, and your hair a complete, chaotic masterpiece.
He sets his laptop aside immediately, a half-amused, half-concerned smirk already forming on his lips. "Hey, sweetheart. How was girls' night—"
He doesn't get to finish. The moment your eyes land on him, your hands fly to your face, covering your red-hot cheeks. You freeze in place, staring at him through your fingers as if you’ve just spotted a celebrity in a coffee shop.
"Oh," you whisper loud enough for the whole apartment complex to hear. "Oh my god."
Jason blinks, pausing. "What?"
You kick off your shoes—completely missing the rack—and take three deliberate, overly cautious, drunk steps toward the couch. Your eyes are wide, glassy, and completely starstruck.
"Who are you?" you ask, leaning over the back of the couch, resting your chin on your folded hands. You beam at him, giggling softly. "Because you are... so pretty. Like so hot. Has anyone ever told you that? You look like a whole movie star."
Jason slowly looks down at his faded t-shirt, then back up at you. A playful glint flickers in his blue eyes as the reality hits him: You have completely forgotten you're already dating him.
"A movie star, huh?" Jason drawls, leaning back against the cushions and crossing his arms over his chest. He bites down on the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. "Can't say I hear that one often. I'm Jason."
"Jason," you sigh, the name rolling off your tongue like a melody. You sway slightly where you stand, blushing down to your collarbone. "That's a nice name. I'm... well, you know. I'm me."
"Nice to meet you, Me," he says softly, his voice dropping into that smooth, low register he knows makes you melt. "What's a girl like you doing flustered in my living room?"
"I live here! I think?" You look around the apartment, thoroughly confused for a split second, before your focus snaps right back to him like a magnet. You lean in closer, whispering conspiratorially, "Listen... I know this is crazy, but... are you single?"
You pause, then giggle, “wanna know a secret? I actually wanna marry you but I think asking you if you’re single is less advanced.”
Jason bites his lower lip, trying—and failing—to hide a massive grin. "Am I single? Well... that's a tough question."
Your face falls instantly into a dramatic, adorable pout, and you genuinely look devastated. "Oh no. You have a girlfriend?"
"I do," Jason says softly, watching your reaction.
"Is she pretty?" you ask, sniffling just a little bit, clearly heartbroken.
"She's gorgeous," Jason says, his voice softening. He reaches out, grabbing your wrist gently, and pulls you over the back of the couch until you tumble right onto his lap. You gasp, your hands landing flat against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. "She’s got this ridiculously cute laugh, gets super giggly when she drinks, and is currently sitting on my lap looking at me like I hung the moon."
You stare at him, your brain slowly churning through the alcoholic fog.
1... 2... 3 seconds pass.
"Wait," you whisper, your eyes going wide. "I just drank and I am fairly giggly."
"You are."
"And I'm on your lap."
"You are."
"...I'm the pretty girlfriend?!"
Jason couldn't hold it back anymore; he threw his head back and laughed, the deep, rumbling sound vibrating through his chest against your palms. "Yes, dummy. You're the pretty girlfriend. We've been together for over a year."
A look of pure, unadulterated triumph washes over your face. You kick your feet up, burying your burning face right into the crook of his neck, muffled giggles spilling out against his skin. "I scored so hard," you mutter into his collar. "He's huge and he's mine."
"Yeah, yeah, you hit the lottery," Jason chuckled, his broad arms wrapping snugly around your waist, pulling you close so you wouldn't slide off. He kissed the top of your head, resting his chin on your hair. "Come on, baby. Let's get you some water and into bed before you try to ask me out again."
"Wait!" You pop your head back up, cheeks still bright red, poking his chest with a single finger. "So... does this mean you won't go on a date with me?"
Jason shook his head, a soft, fond smile softening his rugged features. "I'll take you on a date every single day of the week, sweetie. Now go to sleep."
｡𖦹°‧Content/summary — What starts as you taking up baking as a hobby quickly turns into a full-blown crisis. Jason goes from dutifully eating your rock-hard practice brownies to becoming addicted to your homemade pastries. He gains a little comfortable soft layer over his abs, smells like vanilla and cinnamon 24/7, and couldn't care less what his brothers have to say about it.
At this point, it was getting ridiculous.
When you first started baking, Jason was basically a hero just for swallowing the messes you made. Chocolate chip cookies that tasted like straight salt, loaves of sourdough dense enough to dent the wall, and strawberry cupcakes that tasted like garlic…!
He ate all of it anyway. Sitting on the counter in his sweatpants, jaw working overtime through a brick-hard brownie, crumbs flying everywhere. "Baby, it’s not bad…. you’re getting better. You should keep going.”
So you did. You learned how to brown butter, and mastered high-fat pastries.
And that's when Jason officially lost his mind.
Now, the apartment constantly smelled so sweet it was almost criminal. Warm yeast, caramelized sugar, browning butter, and that heavy, rich scent of real vanilla bean that hung in the air.
It got to the point where Jason smelled like it 24/7. It didn't matter if he'd just spent six hours fighting guys in a damp sewer—the second he pulled off the red helmet, he didn't smell like Gotham air or cordite anymore. He smelled ridiculously like warm vanilla bean and spicy cinnamon. It clung to his skin, his hair, his jacket, even his sweat. It was his natural scent at this point.
And he was completely, hopelessly feral for it.
The man was eating continuously. You’d wake up at three in the morning to the sound of plastic wrap rustling in the dark, finding him leaning against the fridge in his boxers, shoving a cold, glaze-covered cinnamon roll into his mouth before he’d even turned the light on. He’d come home from patrol covered in rain and soot, kick his boots off, and walk straight past you to grab a warm vanilla cupcake off the cooling rack.
Not one. Three. In about thirty seconds flat.
You’d sit on the counter and watch him eat like he’d been starving uin the desert, his eyes half-shut, frosting smeared across his thumb. He didn't even use plates anymore. Just stood there in his gear, breathing in the sweet bakery air of the kitchen, completely hooked.
Naturally, eating his weight in heavy cream, butter, and sugar every single day caught up with him.
He was still huge—the man was broad as a barn and could still throw a guy through a windshield—but the tight, shrink-wrapped abs were completely gone. In their place was a noticeably soft, solid layer. A cozy kind of soft. The kind where resting your head on his chest while watching TV felt ten times better because he actually had some padding over his ribs—and he smelled like a fresh tray of cinnamon buns while you cuddled him.
He didn't care. He was living in a sugar-induced bliss.
The rest of the family, unfortunately, had eyes (and noses).
It came to a head on a Tuesday in the Batcave. Jason was leaning back against the console, jacket half-unzipped, lazily listening to Bruce rant about precinct logs.
Dick walked past, stopped dead in his tracks, and sniffed the air like a hound dog before looking right at Jason’s middle. Before Jason could react, Dick darted a hand out and jabbed a finger right into his side.
"Dude," Dick said, his mouth twitching into a wide grin. "Are you getting... doughy? And why do you smell like a bakery?"
Tim didn't look up from his screen, but he snorted into his mug. "It's all he eats. Every time I radio him, I can hear him chewing a muffin. He literally smells like sweet vanilla from ten feet away. He's an addict."
"It's embarrassing," Damian muttered from across the room, scowling over a batarang. "You look like you're preparing to hibernate, Todd. And you smell like a confectioner's shop. Your conditioning is shot."
Jason didn't even blink. He reached out, slapped Dick’s hand away hard enough to leave a red mark, and reached straight into his inner jacket pocket.
He pulled out a soft, foil-wrapped vanilla bun you’d snuck into his gear before he left, peeled the foil back with his teeth, and shoved half of it into his mouth right in front of them.
"Cry about it," Jason mumbled around a mouthful of soft dough, icing sticking to the corner of his lip. "You guys are up here eating cardboard protein bars and drinking grass water. My girl makes these from scratch. Every day. I'm taking this to my grave."
Dick stared at the bun, the smug look instantly evaporating as the rich smell of cinnamon drifted across the cave. "...Is that cream cheese frosting?"
Jason zipped his jacket up over his soft stomach with zero shame, smelling like pure vanilla sugar, and took another huge bite.
"Don't even breathe near it, Dick. Get your own girl."
They should have left it at that. But Dick and Tim thought it would be funny to test the theory.
The next afternoon, while Jason was out doing a routine sweep of Crime Alley, Dick swiped the tin of fresh cinnamon rolls and the box of vanilla-bean cupcakes you’d sent Jason off with for the shift.
They realized their mistake within two hours.
Without his daily influx of sugar and butter, Jason didn't just get annoyed—he turned downright vicious.
By hour three of patrol, his radio comms were just a series of low, terrifying snarls. When Tim tried to check in on a lead, Jason cut him off by telling him to "shut your mouth before I cave your visor in." When a mugger in an alley hesitated to put his weapons down, Jason didn't negotiate; he threw the guy through a brick wall, kicked his gun across the street, and slammed the alley door so hard the hinges bent.
By the time everyone regrouped in the Batcave, the tension was suffocating.
Jason practically stomped down the glass stairs, helmet yanked off, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles were twitching. His hair was sticking up, his eyes were bloodshot, and he looked ready to murder a man with his bare hands.
"Where is it," Jason snapped, his voice dangerously quiet, stepping right into Dick's personal space.
Dick swallowed hard, suddenly realizing that a withdrawal-addicted Red Hood was not a joke. "Jay, calm down, we just—"
"I asked you a question, Dickhead," Jason barked, slamming a heavy tactical gauntlet onto the main console hard enough to rattle the monitors. "Where are the fucking cinnamon rolls."
You would’ve thought Dick killed someone by the way Jason was staring at him,
"We took them!" Tim blurted out, holding up hands in surrender from behind his chair. "We wanted to see if you were actually addicted! You've been a nightmare on comms all night, man, you're literally going through sugar withdrawal!"
"Give. Them. Back." Jason’s eyes narrowed into slit-like glares. "I have had a twelve-hour day, my head hurts, I smell like cheap exhaust, and I am five seconds away from beating both of you into the concrete if my girl's baking isn't back in my hands."
Dick frantically reached under the desk, pulling out the sealed tin and handing it over like a bomb squad tech disarming an explosive.
Jason snatched the tin, popped the lid off immediately, and took a massive, angry bite out of a roll. He stood there in the middle of the cave, breathing heavily, chewing aggressively while staring daggers at both of them.
Within thirty seconds, as the soft dough and heavy glaze hit his system, his shoulders slowly dropped. The vein pulsing in his temple calmed down. He let out a long, shuddering sigh, the scary edge melting away as that familiar, warm vanilla aroma washed over him again.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gave Dick one last, lethal glare, and hugged the tin tightly against his chest, his softer stomach pressing into the metal lid.
"Don't ever," Jason grunted, walking back toward the Batmobile, "touch my food again."
Requested by @nightwingsbabydoll tysm! This was so fun to write.
Break the Door- Smoker x Marine Captain!Female!Reader
A/N: So, here's a spicy Smoker fic @vulgar-blue it isn't exactly like your prompt but I have something planned for that. The story just kind of wrote itself but I still hope you enjoy it!! Anyway, rip to the door. This is the first time I've written for Smoker in length so hopefully, he's IC but ya know, here ya go.
Warnings: Smut, lots of smut, devil fruit play, the door, use of pet names (baby), dirty talk, mention of dom/sub if you squint.
The smell of tea leaves and freshly baked pastries filled the little tea shop that you and Tashigi had agreed to meet to catch up. You had originally been Smoker’s unit back in Loguetown but you had been snatched up by Vice Admiral Tsruru with the promise of advancement, justice, and just a little bit more leniency. It had been fun and a good move, you were at the rank of Captain now and had your own ship. You bent the rules more than you probably should but the marines under you adored you and you adored them but you did miss Tashigi and you had missed Captain… well, he was Vice Admiral Smoker now. Tsuru had said you had the potential to become a vice Admiral soon as you had made plenty of progress with your devil fruit. The cloud-cloud fruit was becoming a dangerous weapon in your hands and powerful at that but it hadn’t been last night, no, it hadn’t been helpful at all last night. Your cheeks heated at the memory of smoke and heat from the night before but you’re broken from your thoughts when an enthusiastic swordswoman waved her hand and called your name.
A wide smile broke out onto your face as you stood up from the table you had commandeered. You had been worried about being late due to the late night you had and the slightly early morning surprise you had this morning from a very enthuastitc vice admrial.
”Shigi!” You hugged the woman tightly as she hugged you just as tight. You had missed her and the calls you shared weren’t often, especially when she had transferred with Smoker to G5 but they had been turning the base around and it was always fun to hear her stories about the marines there and Smoker too.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” She let you go with a beaming smile. It wasn’t often she was this unguarded or happy but the two of you were close, she was probably your best friend as it was. “I was worried we wouldn’t get to catch up since you’re only here for a few days.”
You waved your hand and smiled brightly at her. “We’ll be a couple of more days, there’s a storm on the way and I’d rather be safe than sorry, Tsuru understood and she approved it. She said it was probably best if we waited it out and it would give our units more time to train together.” You eased her worries and she beamed at you.
“Great, I’ll go grab a drink and meet you back here.” She said and you smiled, nodding as you went back to your seat.
You were glad that you had chosen an outfit that covered the marks from last night. No one needed to know what you had been up to the past couple of nights when you’d sneak out of your guest quarters to a certain Vice Admiral’s who had been waiting for you to come to him. No one knew what the two of you were getting up to, no one was asking questions as to why your unit had visited G5 four times in the last three months but that was alright. They didn’t need to know what you and the Vice Admiral were getting up to.
Tashigi came back a couple of minutes later with a baked pastry, you had already eaten yours having been starving since Smoker didn’t keep much in his place and normally ate at the mess hall, but still, you smiled at Tashigi.
“So, tell me everything.” You leaned forward with a grin. since the two of you talked as often as you could, you knew all about the girl she had been going out with. They weren’t official and she was a daughter of a Marine and owned a bakery in town. You were surprised Tashigi hadn’t suggested there but you figured she wasn’t ready to introduce the two of you yet which was fine. You hadn’t told her about you and Smoker either. It wasn’t that you were unashamed of being with him, though you two were definitely a situation ship, who met up when your schedules aligned or you two were somehow in the same exact part of the New World at the same time.
It was honestly amazing no one had caught on yet but you had a feeling some of the girls in your unit had but they weren’t saying anything to their captain. Not yet. You and Smoker kept it professional and almost cold when you were working. No one thought twice but they also didn’t know how his hands were warm and calloused as they held you at night while his voice, deep and husky, whispered the filthiest things against your ear as the edge of his jitte trailed along your side, taking away your devil fruit and keeping you helpless for the brief moments the sea prison touched your skin.
Your attention returns to Tashigi as a blush crept up her cheeks while you sipped your tea. You smiled as you listened to her. It was nice to see her so excited about someone and clearly, the feelings had grown since the last time you had talked. It was sweet and you wanted the woman to find her happiness too. Your chin rested on your hand while she chatted about the base, about the girl, about how Smoker seemed to be in a much better mood than he had been a week ago. You took a sip of your tea and you hummed.
“Oh, I wonder why he has been.”
Tashigi shrugged. “Who knows with him, but I’m glad he’s much better than he was last week. He was so irritable.”
You laughed softly. It sounded so much like him that it made you smile. “It’s nice to know he hasn’t changed.” You mused and she grinned at you.
“Alright, enough about me, what have you been up to?” She asked, pinning you down with the look of a woman who had known you since you were cadets. You smiled at her and shrugged.
“Working, catching pirates, defying orders.” You winked at her and she shook her head.
“You know better.”
“Hey, your Vice Admiral is just as bad.” You pointed out and she laughed softly, shaking her head. It was true. You and Smoker had very similar definitions of justice and were often on the same page with events and people as well.
“Besides work, anyone in your love life?” She wiggled her brows and you felt your cheeks heat up a bit as you brushed her question off.
“Me? A love life? I don’t think so.”
It was a horrible lie and one you knew she would catch onto by the end of the week. You and Smoker hadn’t labeled anything but you were together in a round about way. You weren’t sleeping with anyone else and you knew that he wasn’t either but there would be paperwork to deal with if you both officially came out in a relationship so you were fine with stealing moments with each other when the fates seemed to allow.
The events from last night were playing through your mind even as you spoke the words, his hands on your sides, his lips against your ear, promises of what was to come as soon as you’d stepped inside of his very nice quarters on base.
“Miss me?” He had muttered, the scent of cigars filled your nostrils and sandalwood, it was a scent that intoxicated you to the point where you had stolen one of his shirts that he had worn for one day. He hated shirts anyway and you were pretty sure the man didn’t own them until you found them in his closet.
“Mmm. Maybe.” You teased as your hands slid up his chest, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his. You had changed into a short dress before coming over to his quarters. It was late but you knew that the dress wasn’t going to stay on for too long either.
“Tch. Don’t lie to me, brat.” He leaned down to kiss your lips and you melted into it, sighing against his lips. It was always like this, he made you weak in the knees with just a simple kiss. It had been months since you’d seen each other this time, longer than usual, and you hadn’t even been able to sneak off to see each other the first couple of days of you being here.
“Maybe I did.” You whispered against his lips, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed you again, pulling you against him. Your chest against his, his hands on your waist, your hands on his shoulders, your breath mingling with his as he kissed you slower. Your lips curved into a smile as you pushed his admiral’s coat to the floor and took a step closer to him. He let the coat fall before his arms came back around you, pulling you with him into another heated kiss.
It was hard being near each other all day and not being able to touch one another in some sort of fashion. That was the downfall with relationships that were in secret. But, for now, it was the best option for the two of you. The safest option. But you weren’t thinking about that as his hands roamed your sides, sliding under your shirt and tugging it over your head. You giggled as he attached his mouth to your neck, lips sucking and teeth nibbling as he made his way to your collarbone. You knew what he wanted and you’d give it to him. You’d do anything he asked as long as he kept his hands on you.
“Smoker” Your voice came out a bit raspier as you arched into his hold, feeling his chest rumble with his growl as he sucked a mark onto your collarbone. It could be easily covered up but you liked when he left marks in more forms than hickies too. It was nice to carry him for a couple of days even when you parted. Your clouds tangled with the wisps of smoke rolling off his shoulders. He had put out his cigar so he could touch and kiss you. You found you didn’t mind the smell of cigar smoke or smoke in general when it was him. You weren’t trying to change him and that was something he appreciated.
“Missed you.” His voice was low and husky and so quiet against your skin that you almost missed it as his big hands removed your bra, letting it fall to the floor, while your back was against the door. His mouth trailed his kisses down your chest, causing your back to arch as his hands moved from your breasts. He’d give those attention sooner, later, and he couldn’t help himself. The two of you had all night, however, he slowly lowered himself to his knees, his lips trailing kisses down your chest and your stomach.
Your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his kisses to your hip bones, dragging his teeth against your skin. You gasped as you felt his teeth tug at your pants before those large hands started to slip them down. He kept your underwear, a cheeky little grey thong, on as he dragged your pants down, you barely remembered to step out of them, letting him take them off of you and tossing them to the side. It was then that he pressed his face against your cunt, breathing you in, your eyes rolled back as your hands buried themselves in his hair. One of his hands tugged at your underwear, tugging them tighter on you as he growled, pressing his lips to your cunt and looking up at you with those stormy grey eyes.
“You’re so wet for me, already, aren’t you, baby?” He growled and you could only manage a weak nod while he smirked at you, leaving your pretty little cunt alone for now as he focused his attention on your thighs. He loved your thighs and more often than not the day or night ended with his head in your lap, pillowed against your thighs. His mouth latched onto the inner side of your right thigh, sucking a hickie there while his hand pushed them further apart. You were held up by the door and he wouldn’t let you fall, not while he was focusing on worshiping you. Your thighs drove him wild. He kissed, bit, and rubbed up and down, going from one thigh to another. Your thighs were always marked up the most by the end of your nights together with Smoker. You didn’t mind. It was always a delicious reminder of the little secret the two of you shared.
“Smoker” You whined as he continued to tease his way back up to your cunt. You wanted him to put his mouth on you again and you wanted your thong off and off now. You reached down to tug at it but a smoke tendril wrapped around your wrist and stopped you, pinning your hand to the door.
“Let me enjoy.” He growled, looking up at you, his eyes were dark and dangerous, causing your breath to hitch, licking your lips as you nodded.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“Vice Admiral.”
The use of his title made him growl once more as he continued his assault on your thighs before pulling your thong tight, causing you to moan as he did so. He kissed his way to your mound before going lower and hovering his mouth over your clit. He blew on it then, causing you to moan and shiver.
“V-Vice Admiral” Your eyes rolled back as he did so again. While he was torturing and teasing your clit with his breath, more smoke tendrils made their way up your body, skimming your sides and stomach until they found purchase on your breasts. Much like your own devil fruit of clouds and being able to feel what they were touching, Smoker’s smoke was the same. You knew he was enjoying it just as much as you were.
He pressed tongue against your soaking cunt, dragging it slowly through your soaked folds, causing your thighs to instinctively clench around his head. He didn’t stop you this time. No, Smoker would die a happy man between your thighs. He looked up at you again, your back arched, mouth agape, breasts covered in his smoke. It never failed to unlock something possessive in him to see you covered and being pleasured by his devil fruit, his smoke that was an extension of him. He felt himself grow harder in the confines of his pants, them becoming unbearably tight all of a sudden. How had he gotten so lucky to be the man between your legs, giving you pleasure, making you come undone with just his tongue and his smoke?
You felt that familiar knot start to build as he continued his assault on your pussy. There was no stopping this man as he lifted one of your legs to put over his shoulder, burying his face deeper into your cunt, his tongue pressing into your folds. Your eyes rolled back as your hips moved against his face as best as they could. You were on the edge and he knew it. Smoker smirked against your pussy, grey eyes watching you as you came undone. His hands squeezed your thighs as he finally slid two fingers into your soaking cunt along with his tongue on your clit. He knew exactly how to get you to cum.
“Cum, baby.” He growled against your pussy. “Cum all over my face, baby. Come on.”
At his demand, you came, the knot breaking inside of you as you cried out his name, one hand in his hair, tugging at his scalp while your other hand left marks on the door.
“Smoker, Smoker, Smoker.” You whined as he continued to work you through your orgasm. It was the first one of many and you both knew it. He slowly pulled his mouth away, dropping your leg from his shoulder slowly, smoke and his arms holding you up as he kissed your thighs then kissed his way up your chest, kissing your breasts one at a time before he kissed you. Your tongues tangled as you sunk into his hold, your arms wrapping around him.
The taste of yourself against his lips as he kissed you deeply made you moan once more. You felt his cock press against your thigh and you smiled just a bit as you slipped your hand down his chest, happy to feel those strong chest muscles of his. How could you not? He put them on display. He let out a low rumble in his chest when he realized what you were planning on doing.
“I can wait.” He grumbled as he gripped the back of your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. “Hold onto me.” He grunted as he quickly made work of his pants, shoving them down to his ankle. You moaned at the sight of him. He was gorgeous, thick and veined. You never failed to want more of his cock when you had the pleasure of having and seeing it. You love to worship his cock too but tonight you both were too desperate to even care about that. Yet, he never failed to take care of you when it came down to it.
Your pressed your lips to whatever skin you could reach, his shoulders, his neck while your hands roamed his back. You nails dragged down his back as he finally took his cock in his hand and pressed it into your cunt. You moaned, head falling against the door as he squeezed into you. His thick cock stretching you in the best way as he groaned with you, burying his face against the crook of your neck.
“Fuck, fuck, baby. You’re so damn tight.” His breathing was ragged as your nails dug into his skin, leaving marks, and scratches. You knew he liked it too much too. Your breath shuttered, eyes closed as you felt yourself adjust to his size. He filled you up so damn well and no one could ever compare to the way Smoker made you feel when he fucked you like you were something precious yet he could treat you like a whore when he wanted to. No mercy and gods, you loved it.
“Mhm. Mhm.” You whined. “Move.” You moaned as you pulled his face up to kiss him. “Fucking move, vice admiral. Please.”
That snapped whatever trance he was in as he was buried inside of you. His hands gripped your ass and thighs while his smoke tendrils still worked their magic on your nipples, adding to the stimulation you were feeling. The vice admiral was gruff and rough, but with fucking he had such a finesse with it. You moaned his name as he started moving inside of you. His hips were like a damn weapon as he fucked you hard against the door. It had been months since you’d last seen each other and you both were desperate.
Your moans weren’t quiet and neither were his grunts as he whispered praises against your lips.
“So good for me, baby.” He growled. “Taking me so damn well, look at you. All pretty and fucked out on my cock, aren’t you?” He kissed you roughly as you moaned your agreement. He never failed to make you lose your ever loving mind as he fucked you. It was rough, desperate, and you couldn’t get enough of it or him. You wanted to be as close to him as you could.
“Please. Please.” You moaned against his mouth desperately. “Smoker, please. Let me”
He listened to you as he hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars. You cried out as he did and then you felt it. The smoke tendrils on your clit, teasing and rubbing it to add just a little bit more. That was all it took. You came hard, squeezing his cock as you did so. Smoker moaned, barely hearing the splintering of wood behind you. His arms were holding you against him and the door as he buried his face against your chest. He barely felt the blood dripping down his back from the scratches you had left while he spilled his load into you.
Your walls were milking his cock as he gave a few more thrusts with his hips, causing you to come again. It was at that moan when the door gave way, his eyes widened as did yours as he pulled you full against him, still on his cock. You were still in the haze of your two orgasms that you didn’t exactly realize what happened until he grunted, stepping back.
“Well.” He grunted, causing your head to turn and your eyes widened once more at the sight of the door.
“Did we….break the door?” You asked and he nodded as he held you tightly against him like you weighed nothing to him. Your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist.
“Apparently.” He grumbled and then you laughed, bright and light, kissing his jaw and nuzzling his neck.
“Hmm. Well, Smokey. Guess you’ll have to get that fixed, won’t you?” You teased as he chuckled, carrying you to his room. He released his smoke from him to pull the door to again even if the hinges were broken now. He’d have it fixed tomorrow with no questions asked.
“Guess so.” He chuckled a he kissed you before tossing you onto the bed and smirking at you. “Round two and breaking the bed next?”
And just how could say no when Vice Admiral Smoker was staring at you like you were his prize for breaking the door. You spread your legs for him and crooked your finger.
“Come and help me break it then.”
Tashigi’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts as he pouted a bit. “Seriously, there’s no one at all?”
You smiled at her, shaking her head. “Nope. Just me, myself, and I. But it’s alright.” You told her, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you sipped your tea.
“Besides, I heard that Smoker’s door broke last night? What’s that all about?”
And what a little tease you were because you knew you’d two would be doing it again tonight.
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