Indeed, A Sugary Comfort Piece Of Loving Your S/o After Their Long Day

☆ the silliest of men☆

Those tiny twitches of movement get me going and feelin' so gentle 💐⊂(⸝⸝๑ ̫ ๑⸝⸝⸝)づ♡

IM SOO FUCKING IN LOVE W THIS MANN WAAAHH!!!!!

Shin-chan would be proud, and Sanji would've died of a nosebleed 🤣🤣

+no woman would have let this figurine go out for production knowingly

Ladies, would you rather walk over hot coals or go to the 7/11 serving butthole in these pants?

Always lovely to see people who embrace themselves and their 🧲-s

i had to one up myself on a new twitter pinned and assert myself as the local sex pervert with impeccable taste

THE COMMENTS, please read for a pick me up. It's 2 much 🤣

Top ten worst anime tiddies

just off the top of my head

Tumblr has become a haven for me 🫂

+

Chippy is so cute 🥹

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑!𝐀𝐂𝐄…

pairing. portgas d. ace x f!reader

warnings/tags. explicit content, alcohol consumption, substance consumption, mentions of past cocaine consumption, sex under the influence, mentions of groupies, dubious snap of reader’s facial, ace has tattoos and a tongue piercing, and reader has nipple and belly piercings.

kazu’s note. i’ve been on guitartok for months now. sorry but i’m definitely projecting here 👁️‍🗨️

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑!𝐀𝐂𝐄…

who’s been trying for months to get you to come to at least one of his gigs. he sees you around quite often since you’re good friends with his younger brother, and figures it’s a good enough excuse to get you to see him in his element. but whenever he tries to corner you in the kitchen and shoot you an invitation, you always turn him down with a gentle shove as you make your way around him, claiming rock music simply isn’t your style.

who’s determined to make rock music your style. on days where he isn’t seen performing in front of crowds, he’s back home with his brothers, where he knows you’ll eventually be. with his electric guitar set in place and firm in his grasp, his fingers drum at the strings as the chords flow into a riffing melody. he works and practices really hard into his music, so the thin layer of sweat coating his inked chiseled body is nothing unexpected. though, what does seem to catch him a little off guard is seeing your figure leaning back against his bedroom door, closing the wooden piece behind you, arms crossed over your chest with your cup of coffee resting at your lips. your eyes tell a tale; you’re interested, and he’s all in for it.

who after a series of brutal and long months, finally manages to get you to see him perform. he’s more pumped than usually, his band mates notice, as he pregames with lots of tequila shots. he ignores the looks he gets from his stylist, focusing on the way he’s going to need his wavy hair tied back into a bun if he’s going to end this night with what he’s wanted with you for the longest. he can only smirk, the bitter taste of booze lingering on his tastebuds, setting his body ablaze in major contrast to the cool feel of the ball of steel pierced through his tongue.

who gives it his all the second he shows up on that stage. the adrenaline running mixed with the shots he took earlier has him feeling on edge, calloused fingers expertly drumming at chords as he sings through the mic, his voice roaring into the stadium. through the immense crowd, he spots you in the middle of his younger brother and friends. dressed in a skimpy black outfit, a smirk is pulled onto your lips as you bob your head to the rhythm. it’s a tune you’ve heard him practice before, so surely it stuck to you, but seeing you in person right before him made his blood run a mile a second, and god he wanted to take you backstage and make a mess out of you.

though the performance is over and he’s greeting fans and groupies, he’s now got his wife beater on with some grey sweats. he’s usually thrilled to meet his supporters, but his mind is entirely consummated by you. he wants you wrapping your arms around his neck, snuggling your soft breast into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist as you giggle and congratulate him on his show. he could care less about the groupies that always come to see him, and he’s far less interested in getting their pussies in favour of yours. he even decides to refuse the mini plastic cocaine bag he’s usually quick to snatch, since he had absolutely no business entertaining them, when he only wanted you.

rolling up papers into blunts after his gigs, slightly drained from hours of performing despite the buzz mowing at his brain. he’s finally backstage, bringing the blunt up to his mouth to lick at the paper when you show up amongst your friends, congratulating him for his outstanding performance. he knows this all, though he still thanks their support, but most of all he wants to hear it from you, wants to know what you have to say since this was your very first experience after all.

watches as you walk up to him, breast spilling in your tight top, leaning forward to snatch the rolled up spliff and placing it between your lips. you grab a lighter from your cleavage, spark it up and blow the smoke in his stunned face. “not bad.” you chuckle with low lidded eyes, before placing the blunt back into his parted mouth. your friends are long distracted, busy bothering his other bandmates, but ace couldn’t be bothered enough to care about them. not when he feels the sudden urge to pull you onto his lap, to feel the heat of the warmth of your legs straddling over him, and grab a strong hold onto your ass beneath your taunting miniskirt. the sloppy kiss he receives in consequence to his actions aren’t unexpected.

who feels his pants tightening painfully hard at the sounds you make when his jewelled fingers come to wrap around your throat, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth from the ball of steel in his tongue clashing with the roof of your mouth. he can taste the casamigos in the warm cavern, figured he shouldn’t be too surprised since he himself is quite buzzed, but wishes everyone would fuck the hell off somewhere and let him get what he’s wanted forever.

who puts you in every fucking position. from your sweaty bodies grinding into one another on the couch, to having you pressed up against the wall and pounding into your tight cunt, to have you bent over his vanity and watching from the reflection of the mirror as he pounds into you, teeth nipping at your neck. you fuck like wild animals, the bottle of tequila uncapped by his fangs and poured into your open mouth as you moan at the alcoholic taste. once he’s assured you’ve got a good fill, he’ll poor the rest of the contents on your sinful ass, watching the liquid lubricate your ass cheeks, the recoil from the forced point of contact between both your bodies only amplifying as tequila splashed between you both. the whine you let out when a rough hand comes to slap your slippery ass cheeks is incomparable to any tune he’s ever heard.

who has you pushed up against the wall, legs wrapped around his neck and rested onto his shoulders, as he eats you out like his life depended on it. you tasted so fucking good, more intoxicating than any booze he’s had in his life, and the way your acrylics run deep into his scalp tugging so harshly onto his hair as you moan and whine for more, messing up his bun and watching as the locks fall out of place. his tongue drags up and down your lips, mouth salivating as his spit drools past his lips and past your pussy onto the floor, sloppily getting his worth of fill, grinding his erection into the wall as he awaits on his sweet reward that’s bound to splurt on his face if he nibbles at your clit— “just like that.” spraying him in the face with your essence.

who pulls out his phone with a deep groan and snaps a picture with the flash on of your cum covered face, sat on your knees with his dick tapped against your pink tongue, the wet muscle wrapped all over his tip as you milk him of his worth. the pearly white droplets may have ruined your makeup entirely, but ace isn’t sure he’s seen a prettier sight than this. you, allowing him to finish his load onto your skin, in which he can’t help but stretch an arm and smear his nut on your face with his thumb, to which you so gracefully slip in the digit in your mouth and moan, which definitely hardens his dick back into place.

who’s seated on the couch, blunt pressed at his lips as he watches you bounce up and down his cock, riding and milking him for what he’s worth. he’s already on edge, can barely stand the sight of your pierced nipples bouncing in sync at your hips’ movements, so he distracts himself by bringing his mout around a bud and his large hand cups the other mound. he moans against the jewel, his own tongue piercing clashing against the pretty heart shaped diamond and his silver ring brushing against your other hardened nipple. the blunt now in your mouth, you grind back and forth as you let the ecstasy ripple through your body, smoke filling in your lungs and clouding your mind, your clit bumping against his pelvis when you lean down at a specific angle.

definitely places a drumstick into your mouth, to gag you up as he fucks into you. he doesn’t want to muffle your beautiful sounds, he honestly doesn’t care if the whole audience hears the way you crumble on his dick. he just can’t help the way he feels waves of arousal ripple through his limbs all liquidy hot, when he seems the dazed look in your eyes, jerking up from each intense snap of his hips rutting into you. your knees touch your ears, your anklet chiming right at his own ear, as he presses a kiss into your ankle. in consequence, he decides with a jewelled hand wrapped around your neck, a new angle in his rough thrusts, that he’s going to record your fucking moans one day and put it as adlibs in a track.

who pulls out and watches as his cum trickles down your fucked out pussy, staining his couch white of evidence. with two fingers, he grabs the sticky substance and shoves it back into you, eyes nearly rolling back at the broken cry you let out, body all sensitive from back to back orgasms. still, he has a mind of his own and very selfish desires, and simply cannot let you go after tonight. you’ve given him a teasing taste, and he knows he’ll be back for more.

who reaches to grab your phone and unlocks it with your face id, before punching his own number in it and ringing himself. he needs you to come back after this, he’s not sure how he’s managed to survive without you here with him this entire time, but it’s never too late to try. he wants you seated in vip, supporting him and filming him up on stage as he finally has the heart to sing the songs he’s dedicated for you, and to be able to carry you into his backstage room and fuck you yet again endlessly. yeah, sounds like a dream but as for now, he’s good with resting his head onto your chest and listening to your steady heartbeat as it lulls you both into sleep.

bonus point++ definitely gives you an personally signed autograph of his name in black permanent sharpie right above your pussy and below your pierced navel, marking your gaping cunt as his forever and always.

ignore how i barely talk abt him being a rockstar and i mainly just wanted to write smut for ace <3

AESTHETICS

80s pink glam interiors

☀️a pair of beauties☀️

This was hidden in the last Luffy post, but I think it deserves more attention since my favorite ladies are in it 🫠

Are they allies? Partner in crimes? Lesbians? Only the Lord knows. What i can i say to you is that Law enjoys Luffy's tan marks and her swimsuit when it's all wet. Law is just a weak woman in a world where everything is attempting to her life. One heart one pray for Law 👐

💥 when ur all the rage 💥

come out swinging