2 Or 28 With Jake Sully

2 or 28 with Jake Sully

prompts.

⠀⠀“i think about you. ceaselessly.” — j. s.

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀“you blush so beautifully.” — j. s.

jake never understood your adoration towards him. he always thinks it’s because he was toruk makto, and how he led the na’vi to victory against the sky people — and you always tell him no. sure, it’s impressive, but you didn’t care for it. at this point, he doubts he’ll ever get it.

but, that doesn’t mean you can’t at least try to force it through his thick skull.

“you blush so beautifully.” that only make his blush darken, hiding his face beneath his bicep. he was naked, vulnerable, nothing to cover his beauty — your words, not his. it made him red, all over, thighs rubbing together.

your skilled fingers rub over his skin, ignoring the spots were he needed them the most, silently worshiping the majority of his body.

he’d squirm, complain, talking about how stupid this is. you only continue, leaning down to kiss everything you touched. truthfully speaking, he loved this. your attention is all he craved. his body saying what he wouldn’t as it twitched, his dick drooling pre-cum.

“please.” he whispers. he wants you inside, any part of you, as long as you fill him. but no, moments like these take time, and you have the patience to give every piece of him the admiration it deserves. he’s so perfect.

“i think about you. ceaselessly.” your words fog his mind. he whines, arching his back, pressing his chest onto you.

after almost an hour had passed, you would finally, finally, touch his cock, then his ass. giving his most sensitive spots everything they needed, and more. what he hadn’t realize, is that you wouldn’t stop doing so until he couldn’t come anymore. he earned this, to have his mind broken, you thought.

this will be a very, very long night.

Leon Kennedy x Top!Male!Reader [Smut]

Warning; somnophilia, blowjob, riding, size kink, overstimulation.

Masterlist.

Resident Evil 4

Leon doesn't need to open his eyes to know it's still the middle of the night, he had been trying to fall asleep hours ago, but he was still restlessly turning around on the bed, a heavy arm wrapped loosely around his waist and a hot breath against the back of his neck. He couldn't take it anymore. He gives up.

He turns on his back and opens his eyes with his jaw clenched, he's tired, he's stressed, and very, very horny right now. And laying next to him, peacefully sleeping without a clue of his current state, was (M/n), his boyfriend. Leon looks at him, his lips slightly parted open, feeling his breathing against his face now, the light of the moon shines a bit through the blinds and he's able to see his torso as it rose with every steady breath, the sheets dropped over his hips, he was laying on his side and Leon lifted a hand to press against (M/n)'s shoulder, and just like that, he was now laying on his back too, still asleep.

Leon knew his boyfriend was quite the heavy sleeper, and this is something they previously discussed so... It was okay, right?

Because Leon could not control himself any longer.

The slightest move made his dick rub against the fabric of his short shorts, feeling it twitching and how he was leaking pre-cum already, making him feel so wet. He whined quietly as he rubbed his thighs together, reaching his hand up to his mouth and wrapping his lips around his fingers, licking them and sucking on them as he let out muffled moans.

His mind wandered to the memories of (M/n)'s fingers playing with his tongue, looming over him and observing him with adoration while Leon could only whimper and blink away the tears gathering in his blue eyes. Leon just loved whenever his boyfriend played with his body however he liked, it allowed him to let loose for once.

He pressed his thighs together as he took his fingers out of his mouth, a string of saliva connecting them to his lips, and with his free hand he moves the fabric of his shorts aside, pressing his fingertips against his twitching entrance, slowly pushing them in, not caring about the stinging pain he felt when he did so. He wanted more than just his fingers, and he wanted it now.

Not even a minute had passed when Leon got too impatient and pulled his fingers out with a grunt, shifting around the bed until he was on his knees, looking down at (M/n) who was still unaware of what was happening next to him.

Leon's eyes trailed down to his hips, removing the sheets and rubbing (M/n)'s dick over his shorts and underwear. He felt it growing under his hand, but it wasn't stimulating enough, so he pulled (M/n)'s bottom half clothes down until his hardening cock was freed. Leon swallowed as he wrapped his hand around it, his mouth salivating as he couldn't help but want to put it in his mouth and choke on (M/n)'s cock.

Taking a shaky breath in, Leon leaned down and slowly licked the tip, earning a soft sound from (M/n) yet he didn't wake up. He continued licking for a short while, until he felt brave enough to wrap his lips around the tip, swirling his tongue around it, using his hand to jerk off what he couldn't fit.

He used to be scared to give (M/n) a blowjob due to his size, but right now? He didn't give a fuck, he wanted (M/n)'s dick deep down his throat, making him gag and choke, he wanted to cry as he struggled to take every inch in.

Slowly, he started leaning down further, his eyes rolling back as he felt (M/n)'s dick reach his throat, releasing a groan as he grinded on the bed, needing some kind of friction on his oozing cock.

Leon heard a groan coming from (M/n), and he looked up, blinking his tears away as he observed the male frowning as his breathing picked up in pace.

"Leon..." He muttered while shifting his hips upwards, pushing his cock further down Leon's throat, causing him to gag, his hands gripping the bedsheets tightly as his thighs trembled.

He pulled away taking rapid breaths as he coughed as quietly as he could. Whining, Leon waited a few seconds until his thighs weren't shaking so much, feeling his cum dripping down the inner sides of them as he moved to straddle (M/n)'s hips, holding his throbbing cock in his hand and moving the fabric of his shorts slightly to the side.

Leon held his breath when he feels the tip pushing past his rim of muscles, biting his lips before swallowing hard and lowering his weight fully on (M/n). His mouth opens as he releases a choked moan, placing his hands on (M/n)'s abdomen to steady himself, remaining still as he gets used to the stretching inside him.

Whimpering in pain, Leon raises his hips and lowers them at an even, slow pace, and soon enough, the pain mixes with pleasure in his foggy mind, he can only think about cumming over and over again, having (M/n)'s thick cock filling him up, wetting his insides with his hot cum, marking him as his, only for him to use as he pleases.

His crying became louder as he desperately bounced, pulling on (M/n)'s tank top, whining, and mumbling to himself.

"More... m-more, fuck... please~," he closed his eyes tightly, leaning down until his chest pressed against (M/n)'s, "I n-need more, (M/n)... please, fuck me..."

Having woken up a few minutes ago, (M/n) opened his eyes and glanced down at Leon who was nuzzling against his chest, crying quietly while he continued moving his hips back and forth. Moving his hands, he gripped Leon's waist, making him flinch as he looked up in surprise.

"Sorry I kept you waiting, darling," before Leon could say anything in response, he felt his body being lifted slightly and brought down with force, his whole body tensed and trembled as his eyes opened wide, rolling into the back of his head as he released a loud, high-pitched moan of his boyfriend's name. "Hm~ you like that, don't you?"

Leon was just able to whine and nod frantically as he felt every inch of (M/n)'s throbbing cock deep inside him, his body going limp as he was being manhandled with ease as if he was a mere ragdoll, treated like nothing else but a fleshlight. And he loved every second of it.

Tears fell down his flushed face, and (M/n) wished there was more light in the room to be able to see every expression showing on his pretty face, how his light freckles became just a bit more noticeable than usual. Gritting his teeth, he sat on the bed, maintaining his tight grip on Leon's waist as he handled his shaking body.

"Damn, darling... It's gonna be a long day today," he held Leon still, making him gasp at the pressure he felt on his prostate, "I'm gonna fuck you full of my cum, and you're gonna take every drop of it."

Leon whimpered, wrapping his weak arms around (M/n)'s neck, "Yes~! I will ta-take it all... Keep m-moving, please..."

Chuckling quietly, (M/n) reached a hand up and held Leon's face, staring into his bright, glossy, and lust-filled eyes.

"You look so fucking adorable like this, puppy..." Leon showed (M/n) a small smile, he was in a daze, and (M/n) loved that, especially because he dropped the tough guy look to become an obedient little puppy.

Leon leaned closer and placed a sloppy, messy kiss on (M/n)'s lips, whining when he felt (M/n) pulling away to tease him.

"Don't do that~" he muttered tightening the hold of his arms around (M/n)'s shoulder, his fingers messing up his hair even more, "Let me kiss you," now he was pouting and there was nothing (M/n) could do other than let him.

"Alright, okay, didn't mean to tease you like that," he responded with a wide smile, causing Leon to smile too as they leaned in to kiss, "Hold on tight, baby," (M/n) said as he lowered his hands to hold Leon's his instead, and the blond did as told, "I love you."

Being caught off guard, Leon giggled and kissed the tip of (M/n)'s nose, "I love you too~."

++++

(The ending is so cheesy what the heck 💀)

(Wanna write about Jake next but I have no ideas lol)

A little reminder

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x [male, amab] Reader Words: ~ 3 200 Summary: Do you need a reminder about who you belong to? Ace is glad to help. Tags: Jealous Ace / Rough / Oral / Chest fixation / Bruises

Requested by anon [Ace and male reader (rough and possessive smut please) Ace gets jealous of someone near Y/n and decides to take him away and show him that Y/n’s his and his alone.]

MASTERLIST

          “And that’s how we got the ship.” Usopp grinned as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the mast. “We are a very skilled crew, but we wouldn’t make it if it weren’t for me!” He laughed, a hand on his hip and the other pointing to himself. “The great—”

“Would you like a drink, (y/n)-san?” Sanji stepped in front of you out of sudden, hence you needed to blink a couple of times until you focused on the glasses on the tray in front of you, not even noticing how Usopp complained at Sanji for stealing the spotlight. “It’s a warm day! You gotta keep yourself hydrated! I bet you and Ace don’t even have the time to settle down properly since you’re always rushing around! Both of you need to make sure you eat properly!”

“Thanks!” You grinned, taking one of the cold glasses in hand. “And don’t worry, Sanji! We make sure to eat enough! And you can bet that Ace and I will eat a lot of your food while we are here!” You winked at him and took a sip of the drink, humming at the fruity, sweet taste of the drink. “This is so great, Sanji! I missed your food, to be honest! It’s been a long while since we met in Alabasta, isn’t it!”

Two years ago, Ace told you his brother had been heading to the same place as the two of you3, which made you excited to meet him. Turns out you met not just Luffy, but all of the Straw Hats and the adventure across the desert of Alabasta was interesting, despite you and Ace finding out you’d followed false tips.

Later, the two of you met again in The War of The Best, but the rest of the crew wasn’t there, so it was nice to be there now with all of them once again. The weather was warm and the sky had a few clouds on it so the sun wasn’t unbearable, hence you dismissed the use of a shirt just like Ace, and also making it the perfect weather to hang out on Sunny’s deck with the Straw Hats. Ace was off with Zoro and Luffy while Sanji, Nami, Chopper and Brook had your attention at the moment.

Sanji grinned, letting Chopper and Nami take the drinks that remained on the tray before he tucked it under his arm. “It indeed is! And don’t worry, I will make sure to prepare a delicious dinner tonight! Also, don’t forget to let me know when you are leaving so I can pack you some meals, okay?”

“Really?” You gasped as you looked at him then grinned more with a nod. “That’s very sweet!”

Sanji’s eyes lightened up. “No worries! It’s a pleasure to—”

“Sorry to interrupt!” Ace’s voice cut him off and you looked up to see him behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “I might have to steal (y/n) away for a while! I gotta discuss a few things with my pretty boyfriend!” He laughed and, despite the way the others reacted—Nami and Chopper finding it adorable while Sanji raised his eyebrows a little—, you could notice the forced tinge in Ace’s chuckle and the urgency as he made you stand up. Ace still had that weird expression on his face as he guided you off to the side of the ship until he just pulled you inside a random room with him.

“Ace?” You sighed with a frown. “What’s all of this about, love? I—”

“(Y/n)...” He exhaled sharply and looked away, but you just rolled your eyes and kept sipping on your drink.

“Storage room?” You raised an eyebrow and sipped on your drink again, looking around. There were only wooden boxes, spare wood, barrels, shelves—

Ace had his hands on his hips, blinking slowly as he looked at you with that smirk that didn’t extend itself to his bored eyes. A scoff escaped his lips as he shook his head and took the drink away from your hand, putting it on a shelf before he could step closer.

“Y’know, I wonder if I’m not imposing enough or something.” He placed his hands on your hips, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. “They keep treating you like that. Mainly Sanji. Don’t they know you’re mine?” He clicked his tongue, gently pushing you to take steps back until you could feel the cold wood of the wall meet your back.

“You know it’s not like that, Ace...” You whispered, trying to make some sort of comforting tone as you placed your hands on his freckled shoulders; his skin was warm from standing in the sun. “We are great friends, and it’s been a long while since we saw them!”

Ace raises an eyebrow, twisting his mouth. “Yeah, yeah. Know who else were great friends? Mhm, that’s right! You and I!”

You scoffed, chuckling. “It’s not like that and you know it!”

A scowl was on Ace’s face as he looked at you, dark eyes and low eyebrows. He decided against arguing and pressed his lips firmly to yours instead, not caring if your teeth grazed together or if you struggled to keep up with the rhythm he imposed, sinking your nails into his shoulders at the surprise, because all that mattered was the fact he was touching you right now.

The kiss left you breathless, panting for air as he started to mouth at your neck, nibbling and pressing close in a way you struggled to keep the gasps from escaping from your lips since the touches came one after the other, with a little more pressure than needed. His teeth tugged on your skin harsher than usual, but the sharp, short spurts of pain did have sparkles going through your body. Your breath grew heavier as even your mind struggled a little to keep up with what was going on—and what would go on, as well.

“A—Ace!” You gulped, feeling fingers tugging on the waistband of your shorts. “We can’t! We are in someone else’s ship and we—”

“It doesn’t matter!” His whispers were a little louder than yours. “Don’t you understand that I need you? That you belong to me?” His lips pressed to yours once again, messily.

You kissed back for a second, but then pressed a hand to his shoulder. “You know that’s not what I meant! I—”

Ace’s face twisted bitterly before he kissed you again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting hard enough to make you wonder if your mouth was bleeding when he let go to continue his way down your neck. His teeth tugged on your skin in between soft sucks that only didn’t leave many marks behind because he didn’t have the patience to continue on the same spot for too long.

You relaxed a little under his touches once you started to get used to the intensity of everything, though it’s not much; Ace’s big palms spread over your waist to massage the skin softly as he keeps pressing you to the wall don’t really do anything to help with how uncomfortable your shorts started to feel. The zipper was painful against your cock, making you hiss a little, only to moan when his thigh pressed to your crotch instead; it had a quiet moan escaping your lips as you squeezed his shoulders. It was hard to resist it now.

“Ace...” You whispered, trying to figure out a way to ask for more without clearly doing it; why would you admit to giving on to Ace’s wishes? A gasp escaped your lips with how he pressed closer, his lips low going lower to leave nibbles and kisses on your pec and risking going around your nipple. His name escaped your lips among poorly suppressed moans as you pressed a hand to the back of his neck to pull him closer, which of course made him keep going—you gasped, covering your mouth with a hand to stop a damn moan because of the way his teeth sunk just right around your nipple.

Ace’s name escaped your lips in a messy moan that didn’t even sound comprehensible while his tongue ran flat against your nipple. Still, those weren’t compared to the way he even made you double over when his teeth sunk into your peck, high on your chest.

“You gonna continue walking around without that shirt of yours,” he mumbled against your chest, but his wide, dark eyes were on yours, “and gonna show everyone who you belong to.”

The idea of it just made you want more, unfortunately, slowly giving in more and more to Ace’s whims and rolling your hips into his thigh in response.

A sigh escaped Ace’s lips as he pulled back, allowing his warmth against your body to be uncomfortably placed with cold air while he started to unbutton your shorts. The bulge in his pants drew your eyes inexplicably easy, making you gulp seeing his shorts seemed about as uncomfortably tight as yours.

The shorts fell to the ground and his lips were on yours again immediately, with slow, open mouthed kisses as his hands slipped into your boxers, rubbing your thighs a little as he slowly pulled your underwear down. You stepped out of it with how the way he held onto your hips made you move until Ace helped you on top of a barrel. You gasped as you looked down between the two of you, seeing your flush cock rest back against your lower stomach, swollen and leaking from how he had been teasing you so far, twitching at the way Ace’s hard cock rubbed against your ass despite still being clothed.

“Don’t you think you still have a little too much clothing on?” You mumbled, resting your back against the wall.

“Are you in a position to ask for anything?” Ace raised an eyebrow. “Giving attention to the others. Did you even know where I was? What I was doing?”

You narrowed your eyes and let out a soft scoff, shaking your head a little. “You’re so...”

The words escaped your grasp, making a smirk stretch across Ace’s face as he hooked his hands under your thighs, bringing them up in a way you were forced into a not quite sitting position anymore, almost slipping if you didn’t hold onto the edges of the barrel and Ace didn’t hold you. His hands were open against your thighs, fingers sinking into them to squeeze the skin for a moment, thumb rubbing circles into your inner thighs.

It was agonizingly good and Ace knew that, holding the strong eye contact as he slowly inched lower, keeping track of the little hitches in your breath while you held yourself back from squirming under his touch. A look of victory took over his face at the moment you let your head rest back against the wall, moaning and pushing into his touch once his hand wrapped around your cock. It wasn’t necessarily good given how dry his hand was, barely moving, but it was already some sort of relief.

You observed Ace through half-lidded eyes, swallowing dryly as you watched him lean forward until warm lips met the inside of your thigh, at first just lingering over them lightly enough to make your skin rise in shivers. It was almost mesmerizing, hence you only came back to reality when Ace’s tongue poked out, warm and wet against the base of your cock.

A gasp escaped your lips, your breath hitching in your throat multiple times with how Ace kept mouthing at the area, letting his tongue poke out now and then; his fingers sank into your thighs to keep them open despite how you threatened to close them around his head.

An embarrassingly high pitched sound came from you when you felt his tongue against your hole. Ace paused before he licked it again with enough spit to trail down your skin. There was certain concentration in Ace’s face as he did it, eyebrows furrowed and eyes sometimes averting up to check on your reaction, especially when you shifted, thighs tensing up under his touch because his tongue started to poke in.

“Ace,” you whispered through a moan, fingers tightening around the edges of the barrel because of how he lapped inside you, keeping you open. Another moan was silenced with a hiss as you tensed up and curled your toes, trying to roll your hips into his mouth out of reflex at the moment he leaned in, trying to reach his tongue deeper and, fuck—

One of your hands flew to Ace’s hair, holding him there, which didn’t really work well given the way he pulled back a little and licked his fingers up. Turns out it wasn’t bad—not at all—, you gasped, feeling your body grow hotter at the feeling of his fingers lining up with your entrance at the same time his mouth pressed to your cock, licking along the underside of it at the same time he pushed his fingers in and curled them up inside.

“Ngh, Ace...” You gasped, struggling to keep the sounds in; you tried to keep yourself quiet by holding your breath whenever a moan threatened to escape your throat, but it just fucking ended up making you out of air and having everything become each time more difficult. “A—Ace—” Maybe it was a little louder than it should this time, your thighs almost closing around his head because of how his fingers curled up and pressed just against the right spot. All of that was dangerous, making you squirm a lot, becoming dangerously close.

The way you clenched around Ace’s fingers only had him pushing his fingers in deeper, making more desperate gasps and babbling pleas spill from your lips at the same time you tugged on his hair. It was so, so close, and you were almost there when Ace just pulled away.

“No...” You whined, feeling the previously crescent pressure in your lower stomach now start to dissipate, much to Ace’s amusement. He only grinned, proudly sporting his face wet with drool as he took a step back and started to undo his belt.

Light throbbing was the only thing that resulted from Ace's strong grip on your thighs, leaving you wanting for more as you quietly watched him finally help himself, lowering his shorts and boxers just a little down his thighs, just enough. Ace spit on his hand before he wrapped his hand around his own cock, giving it a few pumps, mixing the spit with his precum. Just the sight was enough to make your cock twitch in anticipation, leaking as you ached for his touch to return, knuckles going white around the edges of the barrel again.

Ace’s hand sent sparkles through your skin once it pressed to it again, kneading into the fat of your thigh, the other one holding the base of his cock and letting it press gently against your entrance, feeling it flutter. Your breath hitched in anticipation, which easily happened again as you gasped and suppressed moans with how he started to push in, finally.

Your eyes watched Ace disappear inside you, making your breath shaky as you tried to suppress all the sounds that tried to push past your lips; feeling him stretch you out so nice and good, slowly sinking in deeper. He paused once his hips met the back of your thighs in a short pause that allowed you to attempt to regain your breath only to moan at the moment he started to move his hips, moving right away with harsh and heavy thrusts.

“A—Ace,” you couldn’t help but whine, interrupted by a loud moan at the moment he hooked his hands pressed to the underside of your thighs to push your legs back against your torso, allowing him to reach in deeper and just at the right spots. “A—Ace, I need to— The others, they—” You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds because of how his cock managed to reach just into the spot that made your thighs quiver, forcing against the grip of his hands in fruitless attempts to press shut.

“I don’t care.” Ace moaned lowly, breath labored as he looked at you from under his lashes, messy black strands gluing to his sweaty forehead. “Why’d I care if they learned that you are mine, hm? Learned how well I can please you?” He scoffed, with that goddamn grin across his face, his fingers sinking into your skin as his hips snapped against yours with more force, making useless the attempts of at least muffling your sounds since you could barely hold your hand to your lips, and Ace didn’t even fucking care about it.

His lips continued stretched in that fucking grin as his hips slammed against yours again and again and, damn it, you were cumming already, all over your torso, hot and sticky as you tried to keep yourself together.

Ace’s eyes met yours with a different gaze this time, in a wordless ‘I hope you know that I’m not ready yet’ as his hips worked more intensely against yours, fucking you through your high and relishing your overstimulation that quickly came with how one of his hands reached forward and squeezed your peck.

“Fuck,” Ace gasped with a pause. He wrapped one of your legs around his own waist, throwing the other over his shoulder before he could squeeze your chest again and go back to moving his hips; they slammed against yours in a messy rhythm at first before finally picking up a pace that made your cock twitch again.

Your whimpers and heavy breathing filled his ears along with the obscene wet sound of skin against skin. Ace let out a moan as he looked down between the two of you, watching his cock disappear inside you repeatedly, leaving a creamy, white line around the base. Damn it. A string of moans escaped his lips as he squeezed your thigh and your chest more; he was fucking coming, pumping cum inside of you as he continued to move his hips and make sure it pushed in deep, coating your insides all over.

Shaky, whiny breaths cut through the thick silence of the room as the two of you slowly came back to reality. Ace pulled away from you, biting his lip as he watched the cum drip out of your hole. Why was it so fucking hot? His hands rubbed your thighs soothingly, pressing kisses to the soft skin as he slowly let your legs down.

“That was good,” Ace mumbled, adjusting his underwear and shorts again. “Want me to clean you?” He licked his lips and grinned, glancing between your legs and at your eyes again with wiggling eyebrows.

“Ace!” Your cheeks burned hotter and you pressed your thighs together, finally, looking away.

Ace laughed. “Right, right.” He bent down, handing you your boxers and your shorts. You struggled to get off the barrel, legs shaking as the ground seemed to twirl under your feet, but you grabbed your clothes and started to put them back on. “Your chest looks kinda nice, may I say.” That damn grin was over his face again, making you flustered and annoyed all at the same time.

“Fuck off, Ace,” you mumbled. How were you even supposed to leave that room given how you were probably too loud and none of you had a shirt? “Damn it, Ace...”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

THE PARADISE PARADOX. PJM / M!READER

summary. jimin loves the way you taste.

wc. 3k (nsfw under the cut)

tags. smut | established relationship, vampire “fuck gender” jimin, top reader + bottom jimin (who’s in charge changes), big dick!reader (so real), riding, begging, fingering, praise (r. receiving), unprotected sex, swearing, blood + blood drinking

it is a dark night, but perfectly clear. what little breeze wandering through the streets carries itself with a flippant sing-song hum, teasing the brims of hats and the silk ties of businesspeople. it travels towards the centre of the city and eases the flushed skin of drunks who overestimated their limits, brushing over their backs in sympathy as they empty their stomachs into the bins.

at last, it twirls around a blond’s hair, fine strands of spun gold fluttering as the breeze settles, like a puppy finding its owner. he brushes a lock of hair out of smoky, vivacious eyes and smiles behind a black mask.

“thank you for coming out with me tonight,” he hums, interlacing his fingers around his knees. “whenever you’re around, i always feel better.”

you smile and lean back on your palms, the concrete rough on your skin. you turn your eyes skyward, squinting through the pollution in search of stars. you find none in the sky, but then you drop your gaze to his, and you find everything you’re looking for in those dark eyes. “glad to be of service, young master.”

he rolls his eyes and they crinkle at your pretentious cadence. behind him, the nightclub throbs with life, blood, and bass. “i’m not all that young,” he comments, tucking his hair behind his ear. “haven’t been for quite a while.”

“really?” you lean closer, inspecting his face. you brush your knuckles down the curve of his cheek. “oh. i see. hiding the crow’s feet with smudged makeup? how infinitely clever.”

he shoves your shoulder and huffs at your laughter. “you think you’re so funny…”

“c'mon, peaches. you know i’m joking – pouts look cute on you.”

he nudges your ankle with his chunky doc martens and rises to his feet, dusting off his dark pants with a grumpy sigh. he glances back at you expectantly. “you’re supposed to disagree with me. that’s how being my boyfriend works. i don’t even want to sit with you anymore.”

you stare up at him with big eyes. he shakes his head, and when your head begins to tilt, he crouches down in front of you. his white shirt hangs open over his collar and only a single button is done up right over his belt, revealing a plentiful expanse of ivory skin. upon noticing the low drop of the shoulder seams, you realise that you have finally found your missing shirt.

in fairness, he looks much better in it.

“eyes up, lovely.” he bumps the soft skin beneath your chin and your gaze flickers upwards. he smiles behind his mask. “better. now, no more puppy eyes. that's my ace card.” he pauses. “you’re mostly forgiven, by the by, because i’m still hungry. will you stand up, or will you just sit there and make sad faces at me until one of us gets a kiss?”

“i really like the idea of the last word you said.”

he bumps your cheek with the front of his mask and his eyes turn into sweet crescents as he hums. “is that enough to persuade you into helping me?”

he places his ringed hands on your knees. it’s three in the morning and the streets are empty, filled with nothing but shadows of shadows, and the neon pink sign behind you reflects the shimmery glitter brushed onto his eyelids. little pink hearts glow in the corners of his irises, the name of the club barely a smudge of white, and he giggles in victory as you push yourself to stand. he takes your offered hand and swings it between your bodies as you cross the street, a light skip in his step.

you glance down at him with an easy smile and press a kiss to the crown of his hair. “so – hungry, huh? club didn’t satisfy your needs?”

“no.” his eyes darken the longer you hold his gaze, warm and heavy. he nearly purrs, “indulge me, love, and i’ll forgive you for being so mean.”

he snakes his hands over your chest and around your shoulders, careless in the empty streets. naturally, your hands come to rest on his waist. that sharp gaze of his burrows its way through your very being, and his eyes curve as if he’s smirking under that mask; he knows what he does to you, brushing the pad of his finger against your warm jugular so innocently. you could drown in him – his lips, his smiles, his soft skin and softer words. he runs his thumb gently over your bottom lip.

indulgence has always been your worst sin.

Keep reading

jump in the line | wally clark x male!reader

a/n — i know i said this was coming ‘soon’ but it was longer than anticipated- reader is AMAB but i don’t believe pronouns are used to address them

words — 5.4k

summary — With summer break hit, the school feels empty and painfully boring. Luckily, there is a jock in the gym with a good distraction from the boredom.

warnings — smut, 18+ as usual, fingering, top!Wally Clark, bottom!reader, anal sex, ghosts wrapping before tapping

~~~

Wally had two problems—the rain and his loneliness. The rain kept everyone indoors as they didn’t want to come back inside, soaked and inconvenienced by the limited appealing clothing around the school. So a day was made out of it to give everyone a new challenge: find something fun to do inside. The limit was the sky, if you counted that as being the fiberglass tiles on the ceiling. His loneliness came from what he decided to do: shoot hoops in the gymnasium. The other spirits bided their time with more sedentary activities like watching the summer production crew work to cobble together a half-decent school musical for the fall or revisit the library to read the one new book added to the ancient collection, but Wally just couldn’t keep himself still and isolated himself to shoot baskets.

Today was your first rainy day at Split River High in your new life as a ghost. Only a mere seventeen days in and you already felt perfectly capable of being a ghost for the rest of your death because of one fun sentiment—being bored at high school, something that came naturally in a place like this. Charlie claimed that it was better than feeling regretful or upset about it since those feelings only reinforced the fact that you were bound to your roots forever. There was no way to put the school in the past or leave home, no risks to take or life to fail at pursuing. He talked you through the whole spiel, and you had no choice but to listen or fight against the laws of the afterlife. One seemed impossible.

After sitting through everything he had gathered from his time as a ghost, you told him your story. You died in the agricultural room, checking up on the baby chicks during a free period between classes when the wire powering their heat lamp caught fire. The door became blocked by the flames and the windows in the room only opened so far enough to get the chicks out, but they were far too slim of an opening to fit yourself through. It worked well to air out the smoke, but the heat is what caused you to collapse. You never saw your body in the aftermath, only hearing talk of how gruesome it looked as a few cops assessed the scene.

With the Ag-Room shut down until further notice, you were left to wander the hallways without any direction. Though, one sound rang in your ear—the sound of a basketball and squeaking shoes. Now Wally had three problems when he heard the door to the gymnasium open.

As you entered, you looked around at a place you hadn’t seen since before you died. The bleachers stayed inanimate and lacked the community’s spirit for that final game of the season, not being used by anything alive to warrant them looking less depressingly empty. It looked like the same gym you had taken classes in for the past nearly four years, but the jock made it feel new and different. He was a hidden detail among the same people, chalkboards, and desks you spent your entire school life staring at. You approached him, watching the gymnasium become a chamber for his skill to bounce off of. Every time the basketball struck the floor he added just a little more to his established skill set.

“Hey,” you spoke. He caught the ball as it bounced off of the backboard and towards him. The echo in the spacious room sounded the same, but his voice was in your ear.

“Hey, I was practicing my free-throw, but I’ll make room for another person,” he offered. He turned to face you, “And you’re the Fire-Kid, right?”

“Guilty,” you admitted. “I didn’t know I had a nick-name already.”

“It’s unofficial, we can totally change it. There’s a few I thought about—hottie, maybe? Actually, never—never mind. That made more sense when I was thinking it over.” He took a deep breath and extended his hand that wasn’t holding the ball. “Wally.”

“I know,” you said, taking him up on the handshake and giving him your name. His combination of impossibly short athletic shorts, a tank top with the same material as a sweatshirt, and Nike’s paired with socks reaching far up along his shins was almost a dead giveaway that he was from another time, but the name didn’t help much either as you knew it from the stadium outside. Wally pulled his hand back and moved the ball around in his hands like it was an extension of himself—he knew exactly how to hold and manipulate it for his own desire.

“You like animals, huh? Well, I know a little game called ‘horse,’ unless you’re too chicken,” he smirked.

You two approached one of the nets hanging at one end of the gym, “It’s not like I’m doing anything, just remind me of the rules?”

“Okay, so basically, one person shoots from wherever they want, and the other person has to replicate it. If the first person misses the shot, then the second guy can shoot wherever they want. Then, it flips until one person wins.”

“How do you win?”

“Shit, right. If you miss a shot, whether you're the first or second person, you get a letter, usually it goes until it spells out ‘horse.’”

“Okay, I think I get it,” you affirmed.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’ll teach you as we go.”

It all made sense, given that your last gym class was only months ago at the end of the semester and you had played it then. There was one, and only one, thing that burned in your mind: “What about the loser? Is a letter the only penalty?”

“Let’s make it a little fun,” Wally proposed. You nodded. “Okay, so, every letter earned means the other dude gets to ask a question. It’ll help me come up with a better nick-name, so, the more embarrassing stories you share, the better. I’ll go first.”

“That’s unfair, I’m new to this and pretty much everything else.”

“You’re just mad that I won’t miss,” Wally dribbled the ball as he went some ways away from the net, a distance that you knew you couldn’t match.

“Wally,” you hissed. He kept backing away from the net. “Wally, that’s too far!”

“Nah, I’m just kidding.” He ran up closer to the net and made a shot. As expected by his almost professional and clean form, it sank past the net and smacked against the floor. He retrieved it and passed the ball to you, “Your turn.”

Taking the ball from him, you stood in the same spot he was at—at about the two-point line, judging by the markings on the floor—and hit the ball a few times against the floor to refresh yourself with its feel. The bumps on the ball felt the same as when you had a basketball unit and had acquainted your fingertips with the same rough edge for a whole week. Wasting no more time, you took a leap of faith into the air. Expectedly, the ball hit the rim of the net and bounced off toward Wally. That’s just how your luck had been recently, so you weren’t phased by almost making it in. He caught the ball as it ricocheted toward him.

He clapped at your failure, “And that’s H. Four more to go and I win.”

“Five more to go, and I win.”

“Okay, I like your optimism. But question-time! What did you do… after school?“ It sounded weird for him to talk about it in the past, since only seventeen days ago you would have been talking about future plans.

“The usual: sleep, a lot, and bury myself in homework,” you said as if you would be able to do either again. Could ghosts even sleep? Or was it all feigned for a twinge of normalcy? You would have to ask Wally if you managed to score anything against him.

He still had the ball in his hands, tossing it to you. “Cool, cool. What subject was your favorite?”

“Hey, one question only,” you reminded him.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours? Sorry, I meant—you know. Since I doubt we can go to the ag-room, and because I didn’t mean—yeah.” He looked nervous at his slip-up. It felt like he was overcompensating to hide something else, something with a little more weight than simply a poor choice of words.

“It’s fine,” you assured. Passing the ball to each hand as the conversation went on, your mind wandered until it came up with the most obvious choice. “Let me guess, gym?”

“Nah, history. But I liked all of them,” Wally crossed his arms now that the ball was no longer in his possession.

“Really? You weren’t laser-focused on football?”

He patted your shoulder, “Save that for when you make it in.”

As it would turn out, you did not make a single attempted shot for the next two turns and had to suffer through two more of Wally’s questions. The first time you missed, he asked: “What’s your favorite food?”

“That’s tough. I think I’m gonna say all of the above. Anything that isn’t cafeteria food sounds great right about now. What about you? Got any I-could-live-off-this-forever go-to?”

“Hotdogs, for sure.”

“Why?” This was the first time he didn’t protest a follow-up question and gave you a completely serious answer.

“Uh, well, me and my parents used to go up to my uncle’s apartment near the Camp Randall Stadium. The building was so tall that you didn’t even need seats to watch the game, so we would all sit up on the roof and look down into the stadium whenever the Badgers were playing. They usually had a grill set up so we didn’t have to walk down so many stairs, and that’s where it started.”

“What? Your love for football?”

Wally’s tone leveled out. He wasn’t telling a story anymore, he was recalling a memory, “No, it wasn’t about the field or the game, it was about the people around me. I didn’t really like watching the game, but it was something for us to do as a family. Plus the hotdogs were pretty great.”

After that, Wally seemed to be distracted by something but still managed to make another shot. You, however, couldn’t say the same. It pitifully bounced off the backboard and towards the stacked bleachers.

He snarkily asked while heading to retrieve the ball, “What do you think your chances are of winning?”

This time, you were the one to cross your arms, “That’s what you’re going to waste your question on?”

“I still have two more,” he stated. On his way towards you, he ran a hand through his hair, “We could always play pig, if you’re ready to see the hog.”

“Go for it, unleash the beast,” you encouraged and then, feigned, “I’m so scared.”

“You would’ve lost that one already, so maybe it’s good that we didn’t.”

After accruing three letters in a row without ending Wally’s streak, you finally made a shot from his determined distance. He gained a letter to his name, and you got a ticket to pick at his brain.

“Yeah, finally!” He cheered, coming up behind you and lightly smacking your ass. He sounded sincere, “Good job.”

“I got a good one!”

“Shoot.”

“What do you miss most from your house? If you had to pick anything for them to bring here so that you could use it, what would it be?”

“My homemade fleshlight and maybe my porno mags,” he vacillated. “I got all the quality material right here, though.”

“I’m serious!” You reacted before you could even process his comment. Even if he really thought of you like that, it would have had to be a joke.

“Fine, uh. My medals for all of this stupid shit.” He waved his one arm around to the various sports banners with the graduating classes' athletes front and center, along with several other banners and pennants hanging around that showcased the victories of the Devils and Bandits. Besides his name on the stadium, Wally’s name had been embroidered in a deep blue pennant hanging on the wall he stood facing away from. “It would make it feel like it was worth it a little more, you know?”

You sighed and looked at him with a certain understanding that some of the other students didn’t get. He could see it, and you could see him listening intently as you spoke as if he truly cared, “I do. I have a few F-F-A related things at home that I wish I could see now. My medals, my jacket for being in the after-school club, pictures of me and my friends, all of it. I wish it was here.”

“You can always borrow mine. Think of it as the honorary symbol for being stuck here with me and all of the others.” At that moment, an image popped into Wally’s mind that he could have captured in crystal-clear quality with a Polaroid. If only he had brought that to school on his last day. It was of you, with his jacket on and nothing else, grinding up against his leg—maybe rocking back and forth on the toe of his Nike’s or better yet, on his thigh. He would take that picture without hesitation and make it your first official memory at Split River. Now, his fourth problem had arrived in his blue shorts.

“Thanks.” You saw his eyes flick up from the ground to you. The effect of his gratitude lasted mere seconds as the ball came your way and vie sensations of winning reminded you as to who the jock was: your competitor. By some stroke of luck—or maybe a twinge of skill had finally come over you—you were able to make the ball into the basket twice and upstage the jock for a few moments. You got to ask your questions, but he was too busy congratulating you.

“Holy shit,” he marveled. “I know they said you went out hot, but damn! I didn’t think you had that fire in you!”

“Good to know I’m more than detritus.” You tried not to brag or even smile at the fact, just accept that you had him beat with a tied competition.

“Sorry, bad joke?”

“No, I just realized that we both have two letters left.”

“It won’t be that way for long.” Plopping himself onto the floor, he sat with the ball in his lap and his legs crossed to keep it from rolling away. “Quiz me!”

Mirroring him, you sat in the same style with your knees almost touching, “Okay, ever date anyone in high school—uh, here?”

“Nope, but it did allow me and my right hand to get to know each other pretty well. We even introduced lotion later on into the relationship.”

You let out a quick laugh, “Classy, Wally.”

“There was one chick, actually.” He didn’t look away when he said it, locking his soft brown eyes on yours.

You looked back at him, engaged, “Who?”

“That’s your fourth question.”

“Why didn’t you say it when I asked?”

He started to trace patterns over his thighs, breaking the contact your eyes held while he talked about the mysterious girl, “We never really dated or even touched each-other—it was right before the game that we even kissed.”

“Oh.” Oh, it was all you could say.

“I tried to move on from her, and it kind of worked. It took a while, but you’re here.” Wally looked back up again, lifting his whole head to do so.

You stood, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Right, sorry. Too T-M-I?” He tossed the ball up to you. You shook your head and walked over to take your shot.

Standing a decent distance away from the net, you tried to make it attainable for you to make a shot, and a little difficult for the athlete to replicate it. Since your skill was unmatched by his, it didn’t seem like there was a good place that would be hard for him to make it in.

Wally followed and pressed himself into you from behind, and went so far as to make himself level with your ear, “Don’t miss.”

He backed away from you to offer a fighting chance against him, and you took your final shot of the game. The ball veered off to the right with your throw, and he ran to intercept the shot before it hit the ground. He sweeps it up from the floor and jumps in the air to pass it under his leg and make a shot around the basket. It flows into the net, and Wally lets the victory get to his head.

“And in the match point. . . Clark makes the score!” He jumped around the court with sanguine behavior, everything else—mostly, his necklace—following with him up and down. The ball bounced off to some corner of the room since he didn’t bother to fetch it. “That tie had me worried.”

You approached him once he started to calm down, “Question?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna give it to me?”

“I can, if you want,” he smirked.

“I do.”

“Uh, well.” He placed his hands on his hips, raising one almost immediately after to toy with and twist his necklace, “What’s something you’ve never tried before?”

“I never tried you.” What does he taste like? What does he smell like? “Or sex as a ghost.” What does he feel like? “Or any kind of sex in general.”

“Me neither.” Those two short words filled the small space between your lips. There was still a longing inside of Wally that competition couldn’t beat, as even now, he felt almost no difference towards it. He pulled you in for a kiss, and suddenly, it was gone. He had the confidence—the will—to lead you up to the heightened set of wooden bleachers. Wally guided you by hand, the texture still being rough and imperfect from his blazing glory night, and insisted that you close your eyes.

“I’ve been up here a million times, there’s no need for the show,” you protested.

He sat you down on a random line of benches and continued his antics, ignoring your complaints since he didn’t have anything smart to say back. The wooden planks creating the jagged pattern to form the bleachers were hard and unforgiving with little leeway for a task as delicately chaotic as fucking. Wally somehow made the imperfections surrounding your work, by keeping you spread across one bench while laying on your back. His necklace dangled so close to you that it almost turned to sandalwood oil from the heat. He smelled similarly of the same scent, rich in a tangled aromatic scent of sweat and sweet sandalwood.

All of the new things he got to try were a silver lining along the dark clouds outside. His hands roamed unclaimed places on your body, cupping things that deserved to be fondled and handling things with extra care that didn’t excite your body as much as you expected. Chills from his work never came, and you remained the same cold soul as before. The same could be said for his lip prints, marking your own pair, then moving to the side of your cheek and down your jaw with a softness only seen in the blurry images of a fantasy. Wally kissed like he was kissing for someone else, and not for himself, giving more than he took. He didn’t take skin between his teeth for a hickey but left it impacted with a feeling soaring straight up from his heart. It’s not like a hickey would have lasted long as a ghost, anyways.

“You’re cold,” he said as he leaned down to kiss your neck again.

Wally finished kissing your body seconds later and sat up at the foot-end of where you laid. You tried to spread your legs, letting one dangle off to the next row and bringing the other one closer to give him room between you, but he kept himself situated. He fished for something in the pocket of his insanely small athletic shorts, finding it hard to search through bunched-up fabric that exposed most of his thighs.

You waited for instructions, and as if he could immediately tell, Wally spoke. “Just. . . lay back and finger yourself.”

“Is mind-reading part of the ghost-experience?” You teased.

“Just do it.”

“Okay,” you listen, pulling down the bottoms you died in and the underwear that went with it. Wally tried not to steal a glance as he occupied himself, but couldn’t help it. His jaw goes slack for a moment as he sees you—natural and perfect. He assumed that he would have to put himself on the same playing field, and suspended his search for a little bit to stand up. He shimmied down the deep blue and vibrant white of the school colors to just reveal a combination of pasty skin and dark hair surrounding his cock. He reached down to continue his search. Finally, he pulled a condom from his pocket. “I’m going to try putting this on, if it fits.”

“Where did you even get those?” You hadn’t started preparing yourself for the dead jock, letting his interesting train of thought make you invested in his issues.

“Nurse’s office.” He holds out the packaging for you to look over—it’s a neon purple with different shapes in yellow, reminiscent of the eighties and perfect for the man before you. The size on the wrapper read that it was a bland XL on the cover in white. ”Can you believe they didn’t start handing these out until the nineties?”

Wally stuck the corner between his teeth and pulled, causing the wrapper to tear in two and the condom landed in his hand. He pinched the stuck-out tip of the latex in the center of the disk and pinched the rubber ring. The head of his cock passed the loop successfully but failed to actually get it down his length. In an attempt to make it slide down his cock, he tugged on the rubber band around the opening.

“That’s not how you—here.” You sat upright and your hands fly down to help him. Taking him into your hand, you hold him near the base and wrap your thumb and index finger around a part of his head over the condom’s band. Keeping your fingers around his girth, you slid them down, jerked them back up, and repeated the motion until a thin layer of latex covered most of his dick, reaching just shy of his base. “You keep rolling it down like that until it gets to the bottom. It should be tight with a little bit of give so you can slip it off after.”

Wally wraps his hand around the new layer of latex and marvels at the feeling. “Thanks for the sex-ed lesson, coach.”

“Didn’t they ever teach you that?” You asked, reflecting back on how even now, the school never really prioritized giving kids safe sex lessons. Most of the lessons were about getting any diseases, and what to do when you know you have it. It was all focused on the if’s and never the when’s.

“Nah, it was basically ‘don’t have sex or die.’ Glad I got to do the second one first and the first one now,” he smiled.

His explanation left you puzzled. Safe sex was such a priority during life but became meaningless after death. “Why even bother wearing a condom?”

“I don’t know. Why do we still eat?” He leaned in closer to you, hesitant to loudly state the actions taking place, “Why are we about to. . .”

Normalcy, that must have been what he was trying to get at. “Fair point.”

“I guess I should return the favor?” His hand finds your shoulder at a higher level than preferred and pushed it back until you are entirely laid into the unforgiving benches. They don’t quite capture your width, your shoulders peeking over the edges with legs spread out and dangling over either side, but Wally doesn’t let it stop him from motioning closer to you. Thigh cupped, he lifts a single leg to access your hole easier.

The width of his hand not holding your thigh is felt running along your crack, something that had him hooked as he searched for an opening. His longest finger found it in seconds, and quickly, he lowered the hand wrapped around your thigh to claw at your cheek, tearing it to the side for a deeper presence. Wally sunk a three-pointer’s worth of his finger into your hole, his middle finger up to his knuckle as the rest of his hand held him back. His finger beckoned a moan by raking it up and towards your prostate, then by pulling it in and out and twisting his whole arm to feel the game-night roughened texture of his finger carry on a longing from the night he died. Wally followed the string of motions a few more times until your reactions faded.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, looking for a satisfied answer.

“First time trying it, should. . .” You exhale, “. . . should it feel like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, just do it again.”

Wally pushed his lengthy digit back in, raising it to the sensitive area, and pressing the pad of his finger to it. He kept it there for a few moments before pulling his hand away, taking his finger with it, and motioning back in less than a second later. His thumb brushes over the valley between your cheeks periodically, and you can’t help but shudder at his touch.

“Are you. . . ready?” The pause his question took made him come off as unsure, and the look he gave you—a quick glance from your eyes back to your ass, where he continued his maneuvers—reinforced it. He thought that he may have done too much, or not done enough, or even found himself on a mediocre middle ground, painfully stuck between the end zones of backing out and finishing the job. To his surprise, he managed to run the one-hundred and twenty yards, because you said yes.

Almost immediately, two hands wrapped around your ankles, and raised your legs with them, exposing your ass without the need for his help. Eventually, they found themselves dangling over his shoulders instead of either side of the bench, and he occupied the space that they restricted him from.

He positioned himself at your entrance, the protective latex coating around his tip greeted you with the feeling of a smooth, somewhat slick surface. Further up, he caught a glimpse of your hesitant demeanor. You couldn’t lie to yourself, or try to hide and play pretend. In the years when he could age, he was given some stunning accolades in categories other than sports. On the surface, a winning smile and eyes that cast a special spotlight on anyone lucky enough to find themselves under him, and down below, a horse cock. Tamed for the moment, but waiting for the paddock to open.

“Just try, uh, try to take it all.” He winced at his own words and let a sarcastic “sorry” slip from his lips.

A sudden pain rapidly stemmed from his entry—one from the depths of your subconscious knowing that the feeling is new and likely dangerously addictive, and the other coming from the actual source as his size stretches you out much more than a finger’s width. His skin is rough on yours when he settled in, but there was one thing that surprised you as he bottoms out with little left to give. With his hips pressed against yours, you took a sharp breath in.

“You good?” He asked, drawing his touch back. Wally fights to place a hand on you, keeping them hovered over your figure for a sense of distanced reassurance.

“You’re cold,” you spat out.

“I’m used to hearing the opposite.”

“And you’re big.” It came out sounding like a single word.

Wally looked relieved, using the opportunity to get into the rhythm of making jokes, “Yeah, I’m used to hearing that.”

You try to laugh through some of the pain. “No you’re not.”

“I’m not,” he admitted with a stupid smile on his face. His voice was hoarse once his hands started to creep over you.

His hands held on to your figure, those words of his distracting you from the pain of his first movement. Just as his charm had worked its way back into the atmosphere surrounding you, his desire to fuck had also found its way in. And that’s exactly what he did. His stance stayed relatively the same—Nike blazers stuck in place and used them to pivot forward, thrusting himself more into you than he already was. His hips melded to supple ass-fat. As he slipped into a tempo with swaying hips, he heard the smacking that came from the quick collision of your ass and him. It sounded like the percussion beat supporting the ensemble of moans falling from his mouth.

Wally’s motions caused you to rock back and forth along the bench, shifting on the smooth plank. His routine shortens to quick plap, plap, plaps against you, unlike the longer blows he had given you moments prior. His breathing stepped up into larger huffs and draws of breath that pierced the air.

There was one thing you noticed about Wally while the room was only filled with those noises. He acts like he’s almost at a loss for words—unusually quiet when the notions of sex finally kick in, feelings and all. Wally’s communication during it centered around noises and acts over his verbal personality. He grunts and barely speaks, crying words and praises with abandon midway through. He took a hand from your love handles to run it through his hair, and then it fell on your leg. His hand was warm—almost slick—from the heat building around the both of you.

Your gaze floated from his hand falling on the leg going over his shoulder to his face; he looked like he was breaking a sweat. He noticed you looking at him directly, and his soft eyes looked animalistic as he doubled over you. He brought your legs closer to your chest, curling you in on yourself. He got so close that you could feel his breath ruminating against your skin.

“Am I—” he breathes, “—still cold?”

His breath isn’t and his skin almost looked like it was glowing, like he could be alive. You shake your head in response, the bundles and knots of pleasure in your stomach making it hard for a few words to come out.

With his new leverage, he fucked you harder, pressing as deep as he could go. His face contorted and stretched without the worry of wrinkles when he became overcome with pleasure.

Wally came, pressing himself into you one final time as his release sprayed all over the inside of his condom. Drops of release splatter over your torso in brief, irregular spurts. They seem to disappear seconds later, leaving no trace of anything that had happened. When Wally pulled himself out of you, you could feel the friction and intimacy quickly vanish. His dick still looked hard, but there was no aftermath. No trace of anything that had happened. His condom wasn’t filled or stretched out at the tip with a pool of come; it was as if he never fucked you. But you still retained the memory and the experience.

Even your own fatigue from being on the receiving end of his pounding lasted mere minutes. Still, you leaned your head back and turned to peer around the gym, taking a breather. The balls hanging around in nooks and corners of the room returned to the carts that they had never left, and everything was back in its original place on the unaltered, metaphysical level. The other spirits could never know, and they would never know, thanks to the universe's ways.

Wally took note of you looking around the gym, “You know, I think that next time, we should be a lot messier. Wouldn’t be our problem to clean, would it?”

"Show me how to kiss?"

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: Two sets of headcanons: one in which you ask Zoro to show you what it is like to kiss and another one in which he's the one to ask. Tags: Shy Zoro / Fluffy and loving / Also sorta funny Coming soon (Vinsmoke Sanji's version)

MASTERLIST

If you’re the one to ask him...

• He just. He doesn’t know how to kiss either. I mean, do you think he ever had the time or mindset to do it??

• So, it’s messy. None of you really know what to do.

• Behind it all, Zoro has been kinda hoping he could kiss you and you’d been looking at him in a different way lately, so something like that was sort of bound to happen at some point

• It’s like a switch turns for you two, and it’s impossible to stop after that because, after all, you gotta practice to be perfect, right?

          “...They wouldn’t stop kissing.” You sighed, twisting your mouth a little as you thought back to the couple you saw at a bar when hanging out with the crew at an island. You and Zoro were out on the deck for the night watch; he sat back against the railing while you had your back on the ground, observing the stars above you. Once in a while, a colder breeze would make you shiver, but it wasn’t really that bad. The gentle rocking of the ship would intensify your tiredness, at times, but never enough to make your consciousness slip away into slumber, which resulted in sporadic and pointless talks. “It was obnoxious.”

Zoro hummed in agreement, shaking his head as he kept his gaze far in the horizon.

“What’s so great about it?”

He raised an eyebrow, humming again, and looked at you.

“About kissing,” you explained, sitting up and scooting closer to him with a sigh. “What’s good about it?”

...Why would he know? Zoro blushed a little as he looked away and preferred not to answer it. Maybe you’d give up on the question or talk about something else. Having to deal with always trying to find something other than the annoying couple at the bar was already stressful enough.

“Zoro.” You nudged him. “Can I ask you something?”

He blinked and looked at you for a moment. He nodded. You were a pain in the ass everyday—affectionately—, so he was mostly used to what you could come up with.

“Look, I don’t know how to say it without making it awkward, but like, I trust you, so...” You sighed, your eyes averting away for a moment. “Like, could you show me how to kiss? I never really had any time to think about it because I was always training to be strong out in the sea, y’know?” Was Zoro even paying attention? Even in the dark, you could see his red cheeks. Did you say something wrong?

“I can’t help you with that.” He kept looking forward, eyes narrowed. You knew that serious posture was just a play. It was when Robin and you ran into him taking care of babies.

You pouted. “What? C’mon, I’m just curious. We’ll just never talk about it.”

Zoro didn’t bulge, only groaning when you poked his side, squirming away more than he usually would. “I already said I can’t help you with that!”

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing really ever came from your mouth. Instead, you searched in your mind for some reference, however, you could only remember Zoro always in the corners of bars or celebrations or over the sake. He was never the type to be around hitting on someone like Sanji did nor pay attention to whoever approached him. Maybe...

“I think I get it.” You smirked a little. “You don’t know how to kiss either.”

The flush on Zoro’s face intensified as he gasped and widened his eyes. “Wh—What are you talking about?”

You chuckled. Of course, Zoro, the swordsman with his unbelievable focus on becoming the best ever and his whole damn shyness wouldn’t allow him to be with anyone else either. It was almost relatable.

“It’s obvious Zoro. You can tell me, though,” you continued, ignoring the stuttering mess he was in, “y’know, it all makes sense. And I’m, like, the closest one to you here, you can at least admit it to me, right?” You elbowed his side a little—you didn’t give a fuck about it, to be honest, it was just nice seeing him like that. “I’m up to helping you with it, though, hm? What do you say?” You chuckled again, but made sure to keep a serious hint. It was all a joke until he agreed. If he disagreed, you were just fucking around, right?

Zoro’s face was so red. He could feel it burning and everything felt too much. His heart already felt like it would rip off his chest, and then the way you elbowed his side and that your face was so close to his that he could feel your breath on the side of his face, he was—

“Fine!” He breathed before he could notice it himself.

You raised your eyebrows. Did you hear it right? “Fine,” huh? Your own cheeks warmed up at the thought.

“You really...”

“Don’t make me regret it.” Zoro gulped, and you almost chuckled as he shifted to face you, his eyes still not looking anywhere near yours.

Despite fooling around the whole time, a serious atmosphere fell over both of you simultaneously, having the two of you gradually fall quiet. Zoro took a deep breath while you already looked at his eyes, waiting for his gaze to meet yours, which it did, eventually, even if still a little uncertain. You wanted to smile, laugh and hide all at the same time, but still held the gaze.

The ship had never been that quiet and maybe the wind was a little colder than you thought it to be. It didn’t matter, though, because Zoro’s hand was warm against your cheek, and you held onto his wrist out of reflex, which also felt warm. A quiet exchange of gazes was enough to determine you were ready and he was leaning in.

It was slow and careful, with nervousness lacing it, but still sweet nonetheless.

Zoro’s nose tickled a little when it brushed against your own nose, as if testing the waters before you leaned in properly. The distance was miscalculated and your lips brushed together too soon, making both of you pull away at the same time as if it’d burned. It didn’t burn, no, but there was something.

Your eyes met Zoro’s and he had a similar look on his face—so he felt it too. He mirrored the small smile that showed up across your face before the two of you leaned in again, carefully and slowly letting your lips meet.

Warm. Zoro’s lips were warm, but the kiss also made you feel something inside your chest that stirred up with the “kiss”, and made you lean in for more as you’d seen other people do, which snatched a soft gasp from Zoro, but he still tried to make up for it. If anything, things were just messy. None of you really knew what to do, trying to set your own rhythm but also match with the other’s and put in practice only brief notions you only had so far.

Suddenly, Zoro had his other hand cupping the side of your neck, which made you pause for a moment, but it was more than enough for him to figure out exactly what was missing and make the kiss more of a kiss. You just followed his lead this time, letting his lips guide yours through a gentle and uncertain kiss that maybe awakened more in you that you were aware of.

Cold air replaced Zoro’s lips when he pulled away. Your mind was still a little fuzzy, so you took a moment to open your eyes, already meeting his waiting gaze when you did so.

“That...” You whispered and gulped. The small pause had Zoro holding his breath and tensing up. “Can we do it again?”

Zoro chuckled, closing his eyes as he blushed again. “I hoped you’d say that...”

The new kiss had actual synchrony, even if it was barely present. Your hands actually held onto his shoulders this time as you pressed yourself closer, allowing the kiss to be deeper.

There was a look on Zoro’s face when he pulled away this time, one you couldn’t quite read. “You taste nice.”

“I taste nice?” You chuckled. “What’s it like?”

“It’s...” Zoro sighed, blinking a couple of times as he looked at you. “Sweet. What do I taste like?”

“Sake.” You answered without missing a bit, which made his face fall a little; you chuckled.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

If he asks you...

• Zoro’s been thinking about it for a while now, to be honest, trying to find an excuse to make it happen

• He genuinely didn’t think it would be that good. He had little faith in it—mostly curiosity—, but when you kiss him, he just ends up getting lost and wants more. Just wants you to show him everything. Also uses the excuse he gotta practice to get perfect

          “What’re you so grumpy about?” You raised an eyebrow, seeing Zoro walk in while grumbling under his breath. He usually didn’t come over to the aquarium bar when you were there during the afternoons messing with your own stuff just like the rest of the crew, so he certainly wanted attention that you were more than willing to give.

Zoro took a seat next to you, scowling. “That damn cook.”

“Oh.” You raised your eyebrows and sighed with a nod without looking up from the stuff you messed with. There were a few lists of what each one of the crew needed since you would soon make a stop on another island, so you needed to organize all of those and estimate how much money you’d need, and thinking wasn’t very easy with Zoro there, but it probably wasn’t anything that bad since it was just more fighting with Sanji. Not that he really cared about it, but you supposed it was a way of him gaining your attention despite how shy he tended to be. He wasn’t that shy around you, though. It was even funny when people commented about him being only cold and stoic—he could be, yeah, but he was also too shy for his own good.

“He’s spilling some stuff about kissing today, y’know?” Zoro huffed, crossing his arms. “About how he misses it and how I wouldn’t understand because I’ve never kissed!” He growled.

“Is it true, though?” You mumbled between the numbers of berries. 15 minus 7 resulted in 8, then 2 minus 1 would be 1, so 11 minus 7, so it would be...

Zoro clicked his tongue. “I’m not like him.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” you hummed. So, 15 minus 7 was 8, then the 2 turned into 1, and 11 minus—

“I don’t have time to waste around like he does, kissing and— and hell knows what.” He looked down with pursed lips then turned to you.

“Right.” You inhaled deeply and scratched out the math you were doing to start it all over again later. “It’s not really a waste of time, I mean. Depends on the person. What, you’re aromantic or something? Or just never kissed? You’re sounding a little too bitter about something so irrelevant.” Now and then, Zoro just needed you to poke him with the raw truth so he would ground himself in reality again a little.

“I—I wouldn’t think about it.” Zoro clicked his tongue, looking away again. “I got better things to do.”

You sighed, putting your pen away and sitting back on the couch. “I mean, you never tried it. I wouldn’t be so secure about it myself, in your position, but you do you, right? I'm no one to judge."

Maybe that rubbed off on Zoro the wrong way. He raised an eyebrow at you for a long moment, but all you could do was shrug and nod at him to say something already. You had work to do, after all.

"If you're so sure about it, then show me."

"What?"

"Show me how to kiss." Zoro's face had a tinge of red despite how confident he tried to seem.

Despite the surprise, a smirk still tugged on your lips as you raised your eyebrows. "Oh? You sure? Wanna give me your first kiss? Am I that special?"

He clicked his tongue and looked away once again. "Don't be annoying about it or else I'm leaving."

A chuckle erupted from your lips as you tugged a little on his haramaki when Zoro started to stand up. The way he put it all made you want to tease him more to humble him down a little, but you knew better than that; things probably wouldn't go the right way if you kept him there grumpier than he already was or even accidentally scared him away, something you absolutely didn’t want before such an opportunity.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” You scooted a little closer to Zoro on the couch, putting an arm over the backrest of the couch, behind him. “Right, seriously. You mean it?”

A little crease was still there between Zoro’s furrowed eyebrows as he glanced you up and down, with his arms still crossed over his chest.

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes. He could be just like that sometimes. Annoying.

“How do you do it? Is there any secret trick or—” Zoro shrugged and raised an eyebrow at you. His shoulders dropped a little from their jagged stance and his arms weren’t crossed so tightly anymore.

“I mean, there’s no secret, but there are a few tips I wish I knew before I did it the first time, y’know?” You shifted a little, trying to push your mind away from annoying numbers to a new setting instead. “Like, it’s not necessarily a continuous thing, and it’s sort of you kissing my upper lip while I kiss your bottom one and then vice versa, but you can also— You’re not listening, are you?”

“I’m not.” Zoro confessed with that grin that made you want to punch it right off his face. “Your lips do look nice while you talk, though.”

“...Shameless bastard.”

“What was that?” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Nothing!” You mirrored his expression and clicked your tongue, holding back a chuckle. “You’re quite useless sometimes, huh? You listen to nothing.” Your hand cupped Zoro’s face gently, letting your thumb reach the corner of his lips before going down along his lip. “That’s why you’re such an empty head, got nothing but muscles...”

Zoro grinned. “You may complain, but you just never get away from me.”

“I’ll just make you shut up at once.”

His hand held onto your elbow as you leaned in and finally pressed your lips to Zoro’s. It was a simple kiss, just keeping your lips against his for a few seconds before pulling back again. A light blush dusted his cheeks and he still glanced at your lips, so you leaned in once again to give him a kiss that wasn’t just like a prolonged peck, actually moving your lips together.

Zoro wasn’t the best at it—of course not—, but he still tried, his grip against your elbow tightening a little at times while he messily kissed you back, trying to keep it up and mirroring your movements. His lips were clumsy and messy, but still something that you could guide and make the whole thing worth something. You held his cheek as you deepened the kiss a little, which made his breath get caught in his throat and his lips get a little lost for a second before they followed your lead again.

The mere seconds you had to pull away already felt like too long, with you exchanging gazes with Zoro to silently check if everything was alright, before your lips were pressed together again. Your tongue ran against his bottom lip this time, actually snatching a gasp from him.

“Is it okay?” You whispered, furrowing your eyebrows a little. Just a few inches still serpared your faces, having you both feel each other’s out of pace breathing.

Zoro nodded. “I just wasn’t waiting for that.”

“Is it okay, though?” You grinned again, seeing him grow flustered once more.

“...Do it again.”

You did kiss Zoro and lick his bottom lip once again, but this time, he opened his lips and allowed you to slip your tongue past his lips. There was a little taste of sake still, already faint. He still didn’t know what to do, but the way you held onto his jaw did ground him a little so he would calm down.

“Good?” You whispered against his lips, lips still grazing him.

Zoro’s breath hitched as he tried to catch his breath, hazy eyes observing you from close. “Do... Do it again.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.