you see price sitting like this when you walk into a room post mission- and you know exactly what it is he needs.
he's licking at you and holding your thighs open with his rough palms- and you can't take it. his calluses and his beard and the fabric of his sleeves are rubbing at your legs just right- but not enough for you to lose focus on his hot tongue rubbing on you and in you and you've never been wetter in your LIFE.
his only problem? you're still moving too much. he can't reach where he wants to inside of you because you keep wiggling out of his way. his hands want to touch you everywhere- not just hold your thighs still. this is when he begins to squeeze at you everywhere, and tell you to rest your thighs on his shoulders.
"b-but price- hhnngh ohmygod- i c-can't. they're too big. thighs are too big"
you whine at the loss of contact, but then you look down and see him staring at you with massive pupils and a wet face. "lovie- my shoulders are broad for a reason. rest your thighs on em and i swear they'll have enough room"
and you listen, and you're crushing his ears with your thighs, and he's never been happier. the next time you look down? he's rutting into the mattress and you see his hips stutter when he groans into you and your vision goes white
(@chamomiletealeaf and i had SUCH A HORNY discussion about this and she told me to post it so here i am- and also omg photo creds to her. we've gotta reign it in lmfao)
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so ive been thinking so hard about that transfem butch zoro au.
i feel like at the Very beginning (after kuinas death) she does try to present real feminine like but it doesnt feel like Her and eventually she stops doing it (and in any case its not like kuina was super feminine so why would she try to be like that??)
on the other hand she HAS to make sure everyone knows shes a woman when she beats their ass and becomes the worlds greatest swordsman. so sports bras (or equivalent whatever) and open shirts are a staple
i think she would do hrt (or equivalent Whatever) because again she wants to prove that kuina could have done it. unfortunately i do also think this means she trains about 1 million times as hard
trans sanji............. coming to the realisation that maybe she Wants to be taken care of by a hot butch........................ as a pretty femme
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“Hmmm…” Satoru holds your hand up, twisting it this way and that and carefully examining it, pitch-black glasses discarded on the side to allow his azure eyes to show. He hums, a deep rumble in his throat as his long, pale fingers trace the back of your palm, gently tugging on your pointer finger, then your pinkie, and your ring finger.
His eyebrows furrow in faux concentration, lips in a pout, and then he nods once to himself. “Alright. Looks promising!” He says out-loud to himself, like a child inspecting their new toy.
You’re so used to his antics that you don’t even bat an eye at his out of the blue examination of your hand, an amused smile playing on your lips as you watch him. You had been walking past where he sat on the couch, only for his arms to wrap around you and pull you sideways onto his lap, no care for what you had been doing prior. He then proceeded to grab your hands with no words, silently beginning his very serious yet sudden inspection. Not like you put up much of a fight, though.
“Satoru,” you say. He rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “Everything okay, baby?” You ask, raising your eyebrows as your smile grows wider with the way his arms tighten minisculely over your midsection at the pet name. You love him. So, so much.
He grins, pearly white teeth winking at you and he ardently nods his head. “Yes! Everything’s great in fact, my dear sugar plum.”
You shake your head, and his attention is momentarily taken from your hands to you, dramatically sighing. “Not that one either?”
“No, Satoru. Try another name.”
“Aw, okay. Anyways!” He intertwines your hands together, affectionately squeezing. Your arm that’s wrapped around his shoulders moves so that your other hand is in his hair, running through the soft snow-white strands, causing his eyes briefly flutter shut at the kind touch. “…Hmm.”
You grin, always happy to see the little ways you affect him. “Anyways…” you prompt, dragging it out and successively reminding him of what he had started to say.
His eyes snap back open, and he gets back to his original task. “As I was saying, you have really, really nice hands,” he murmurs, gently swaying your locked hands, then placing a soft kiss on the back of your palm. “I love them.”
“Thank you, Satoru. I love your hands too.”
“I know, they’re pretty amazing.”
“I’ll smack you.”
He glosses over your threat. “Buttttt…” His grin grows a bit shy, timid— well, as timid as he ever could be. Leaning in for a kiss, you meet him half-way, and your heart leaps as your lips touch, even though this definitely isn’t the first time he’s kissed you before.
When you part, he leans his forehead against yours, his hand that’s not interlocked with yours smoothing over your back, under your t-shirt and fervidly rubbing against your bare skin.
He winks, and your mouth dries. “I think it would look even better with a ring on it.”
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