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mermaidgirl30 · 11 hours

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✨Javi’s Playground✨

A/N: Ahhh I’ve been wanting to write a Javi one shot for a while, and I finally got the inspiration after listening to “Sex & Candy” by Marcy Playground. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me come up with a name and beta read so I didn’t chicken out and not post 😘 This is my first time writing Javi, so I’d like as much feedback as I can get 🥰 I tried my best with the Spanish translations.

Summary: Javi decides to blow off some steam at the strip club, but he doesn’t intend to attempt to take one of the dancers home with him.

Pairing: Javier Pena x fem! reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Tags: smut, flirting, Javi goes to a strip club, alcohol, smoking, unprotected p in v, oral, Narcos era, reader is a stripper, reader has long hair, some Spanish (translations at bottom of doc)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The glow of the amber lights swirl above his head as a crystal disco ball spins slowly, throwing its sparkly essence into the crowded strip club. This isn’t his normal place, Paradise Cove. It’s only a distraction, a secret alcove to let go of any thoughts of drug lords, innocent bloodshed, Pablo Escobar, or any traces of misery he’s been holding on to over the past treacherous year. This was a place for forgetting, relaxing the mind, indulging in mere fantasies he could only wish to grasp his torn hands around. So he’d drink, smoke, and indulge in beautiful women in peace on this lonely Friday evening.

The red walls are smeared with flecks of sparkles, and the atmosphere is bursting with energy and dim lighting. The cool glass of amber whiskey sits in his hand as he gulps down another swig, letting the burn coat his insides as he flicks the small lighter and lights up another Marlboro cigarette. He lets the smoke surround him, fogging his vision as he inhales the nicotine and lets it sit there dwindling around him in a blur. Just for a couple of seconds, just enough to take the edge off of his growing migraine.

He throws his head back and exhales, blowing the smoke out as the music changes over to a tune he knows. “Sex & Candy” by Marcy Playground starts to play from the blaring speakers, the song slowly slipping through his ears as he sits up just a little straighter in the black leather chair.

The crowd hollers when the next girl takes the stage, low whistles reverberating off the side mahogany tables as the volume of the music picks up. He doesn’t realize what they’re all making a fuss about until he looks up and sees you. The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. Esplendida.

You’re so radiant, the way you strut across the stage in your crystal clear stiletto high heels as you spin in slow motion, running your fingers through your thick, long curls as you look over your shoulder and flirt with the crowd. Your legs are so long, the curve of your thighs begging to be touched as you sway your hips side to side and get lost in the song.

And then there she was, in platform double suede. Yeah, there she was. Like disco lemonade.

He can’t help but grip the damp glass in his hands a little too tight as he spreads his legs wide and relaxes into the plush leather, his eyes glued to you as you slide down the pole gracefully. He wets his lips as his tongue glides across his bottom lip, his cigarette burning his flared nostrils as he oogles the way you please the crowd with every single move you make across the reflective stage.

He watches the way you push the swell of your breasts up with your delicate hands, eyes the tiny black lingerie set that barely covers your porcelain skin, assesses the way the lacy thong skims across the curve of your hips, and nearly drowns on his sip of bubbling whiskey as you bend down and show off the thick globes of your ass.

Javi sets the half empty glass of alcohol down beside him on the little sturdy table and grabs his denim clad knee as he sinks his nails into the fabric, trying to hold himself together as he listens to the track play through the massive club, watching the way you keep turning and finding his searing gaze.

I smell sex and candy here. Who’s that lounging in my chair? Who’s that casting devious stares in my direction? Mama, this surely is a dream.

His brown eyes blow wide every time you turn and wink his way, casually flirting as you flip your hair and bite your lower lip, sending him spiraling as he feels the blood rush to his cock in his tight jeans, feeling just how hard he is now as his thick cock presses into the metal of the zipper. It’s like you know what you’re doing, sparkling eyes penetrating his gaze as you flirtatiously bat your long mascara coated eyelashes and eye fuck him from the glowing stage, making sure he’s getting exactly what he came her for. To feel good, to indulge in his fantasies, to make him think you want him. But customers don’t get to take strippers home. That’s not how this business works, not how it’s supposed to run, unless…

You slide slowly down the metal pole, ending up on the floor of the lit up stage as you spread your legs wide and tease him just a little as you play with the straps of your panties and press your heels into the floor, giving him a view that just about takes him out. He leans his elbows against his knees, rakes a hand through his thick mustache as he groans into the palm of his hand while sweat sticks to his tanned forehead.

He loves the view that’s on display, loves the outline of your pussy as he swears he can see wetness pooling there in between your legs while you sit there and tease him with the biggest smirk on your face he’s ever seen in his life. Those red, plump lips, those glistening thighs that deserve to be kissed, that pulsing core that begs to be lapped up. He can see it now, you splayed out on his bed while he fucks you deep, bottoming out as you scream his name, claw at his tanned skin as you beg for more. He’d take care of you. God he would. And fuck does he want to. Gravemente.

He can feel the precum sliding against his thick length, can feel just how badly he wants to palm himself through his tight denim as he watches you fall apart on the stage before him. At this point he has no restraint, can barely sit here and watch as you start to crawl on your hands and knees toward him, hypnotizing eyes that lock on his as he leans forward and unfastens the black tie that clings to his button-up white collared shirt.

His eyebrows furrow, lips parting unbelievably as you curl your finger and beckon him to come to the side of the stage, your gaze flicking over his figure as he prays you don’t see the erection that’s begging for some kind of release that’d involve hands, or maybe a mouth, a warm tongue…

He takes another drag of the sweet nicotine and pushes himself out of the leather chair, slowly trudging up to you as he lets his eyes trail generously over your perfect body. When he finally makes it over to the end of the glossy stage, he sees just how beautiful your eyes really are, eyes that were just eye fucking him seconds ago, eyes he’d love to gaze into while he cants his hips against yours roughly. Eyes he could lost in, swim in.

You smirk his way, letting your hands run through your tousled curls as you flutter thick eyelashes up at him. He digs into the pit of his denim pocket and pulls out a crisp twenty dollar bill as he cautiously slides it inside the lace of your push-up bra, his fingertips grazing the edge of one of your perky breasts as he groans in response. Your skin is so soft, he thinks what you have underneath the lace will be even softer, divine, delicious.

You bite your bottom lip flirtatiously and play with the end of his loose tie, letting the silk slip through your fingertips as he watches in a blissed out daze. You could’ve chosen anyone to target, could’ve had attention from any of the sleazy men in this nightclub, but you chose him. The one with the flecks of honey eyes, the one that couldn’t keep his eyes off you for one second, the handsome stranger who must’ve been new to this place.

“You new here?” you ask curiously as you eye his stance, watching the way his eyes seem to light with burning fire every time he even dares to look your way.

“Been here once or twice before, but this is the first time I’m seeing you, hermosa.” He lets his dark eyes slide down your body, a smirk curling across his plush lips as he leans in closer, until you can smell the tinge of nicotine lacing through his taste buds. “You sure look good up on that stage, amar. Prettiest thing I’ve seen in a city like San Francisco.”

“Oh? You like what you see?” you blush as you hang your legs off the end of the stage, just enough to brush his thighs as you feel how strong they are.

“Oh, I like what I see alright. Follando perfecta.”

You feel your cheeks burn bright red, feel your thighs clench up as you see how thick his fingers are, how dark and ravenous his eyes look, how hard he is underneath the fabric of his tight jeans. You don’t ever get this wound up about customers, but something about well dressed, smoldering men makes you want to lose all dignity and throw yourself at him. He must be so good in bed. With the way he’s staring at you, all hot and bothered, he may as well just carry you out of this club. Even if it’s technically against the rules.

“What’s your name, handsome?” you ask as you brush your heels against the side of his ankles and watch him tense up under your touch.

“Javier. Just call me Javi for short, though. And yours, hermosa?” You tell him your name, your real name, not your stripper name, even if that’s against the rules, too. You clearly don’t care about any fucking rules at this point.

��Ahh, that’s a gorgeous name. Telling me your real name, yeah? Aren’t you a little rule breaker,” he teases as he cocks up a thick eyebrow and slides his thumb over his lips as he brushes against his thick mustache. You wonder what it’d feel like with his mouth covering your core, his mustache brushing over your swollen clit as he licks and licks until you come apart on his large tongue.

You pull yourself out of ridiculous wet fantasies and watch the smoke fall off his tongue. “I live to break rules,” you tease as you pull him closer, catching the end of his black tie as he’s so close now that you can see the embers of brown flecks scatter across his dark eyes. He’s so handsome, you think you want to go home with him.

“That right, hermosa?” he asks as he takes another long drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke away from your face as that smug smirk still encases his playful teasing.

“That’s right,” you giggle as you gently curl your fingers over the wrist that holds the burning cigarette.

He watches you carefully, eyes full of trouble as he puffs out a breath and fills your nostrils with the stench of whiskey and nicotine. “What do you say, hermosa? Wanna take a tour of my bedroom tonight?”

You carefully snag his lit cigarette from his outstretched hand and slide it in between your crimson lips, taking a slow drag of the cigarette as he watches you with dark, wide eyes and parted lips that shine with the gleam of amber colored whiskey. You gently blow out the smoke in his face and lean forward as you wrap your manicured fingers around his loosened tie. “You can give me money, yes, but what else? I have plenty of money. What is it that you want, handsome?”

He grabs the cigarette from your open hand and takes a whiff of the nicotine, letting it blow right back into your face as you smell whiskey, smoke, and trouble fill your lungs.

“Te deseo…” He says it slowly, meticulously like it’s the most sensual thing he’s ever said to a woman before. You don’t know what it means, but it damn sure sounds like you need to say yes.

Your eyebrows raise as you smile wide his way. “I don’t speak Spanish, handsome. But I think I want to say yes. Wanna indulge me in what exactly it is you want?”

He takes another slow drag of his cigarette as he smirks your way. “I want you, hermosa. In my bed, underneath my body, so I can fuck you fast and hard. Wanna rip off that lace and devour your sweet pussy until I have you coming apart on my tongue. Wanna make love to the beauty that stole my heart away tonight.”

Your breath hitches as you gasp out of breath, not realizing you clutched onto his leather belt and clenched your sticky thighs together as slick pools warmly in your lace. You should’ve known he was a handsome menace the first moment you saw him sitting there with his glass of cold whiskey and lit up cigarette. You should’ve fucking guessed.

His body is now too close to yours, chest pressed against yours as you stand shakily off the stage and feel just how bad he wants you through the fabric of his tight jeans. You can see that way his dark eyes flick over yours, feel the heavy breaths coming from his broad chest, smell the stench of trouble and nicotine lacing around your wrists as he slowly grabs a strand of hair and whispers your name into the shell of your ear.

It’s almost too much, almost enough to get you fired right on the spot until the music suddenly changes to a Rhianna song, signaling it was time for the next dancer to come out. You abruptly pull away from him as you feel the tension sit thick in the air, almost like a fog takes over and you can’t see anything clearly anymore.

It’s your time to go, to mingle with other clients, and he knows that, you can see it in the understanding of those big chocolate eyes that stare adamantly at you. You give him a flirtatious wave and brush up against his large arm as you whisper up to him, “I get off in an hour. Meet me in the back.”

He watches you saunter off, half smiling as he realizes he got the girl. He never misses, almost never gets turned down, but this one he might want to see again. He can already tell he’ll want you to stick around, maybe even make you his. Maybe he won’t have to walk this lonely, overbearing life alone anymore. Maybe…. just maybe you’ll stay. Maybe he’ll let you stay. Maybe for a night, a month, a year, forever.

The smell of sweat covered bodies, vanilla scents of sensual movements and whiskey clad tongues fill the room as you move at a slow, passionate pace. His meaty hands and smooth tongue are everywhere, sliding down your neck, pulling your pebbled nipples into his warm mouth, and lapping thoroughly at the slick between your sticky thighs.

Your moans come in sync. Elated, deafening, ravenous every time he licks a thick stripe over your dripping core. He groans each time you rake your fingers through his mess of dark locks, your pleasurable moans filling the room every time he pulls your puffy clit into his mouth as his thick fingers curl up into the spongy walls that make you see blinding stars in your vision. He doesn’t stop even after the first time you come for him, spilling all your pent up slick as he laps up every single drop between your thighs.

He pulls out another mind blowing orgasm with his experienced tongue alone, and he doesn’t even give you a minute to breathe before he’s splitting you in two with the slick cock that fills you to the brim, bottoming out in you time and time again until you feel him everywhere in your system, like the nicotine and whiskey that fill his lungs night after lonely night. He licks into your mouth, his smooth tongue dancing along with yours until you can’t taste anything but the tang of neat whiskey and toxic nicotine that bleed into your bloodstream, tasting like sweet addiction and danger, a lover in disguise.

You’re already close again, almost spilling yourself around his thick cock as he bends your knees back and folds you like an acrobatic so you can feel him deep, rough every single time he snaps his hips against yours and buries his face into your neck with furrowed eyebrows as he sucks and bites against the base of your neck.

“Come for me again, hermosa. There you go, such a good fucking girl. Let me feel you again. Squeezing so tight around my fucking cock,” he growls as he guides his thumb down to your clit and starts to circle nice and slow, the pressure building in your spine as you start to let go.

“Javi,” you moan as you scratch your long nails down his bare back, clawing at his tanned skin every time he guides his slick cocks inside you, reaching that spongy spot that makes you plead and moan with every thrust of his hips.

“Attagirl, hermosa. Tan encantadora,” he pants as sweat covers his glistening forehead. Once, twice, three more tight circles on your bundle of nerves and you’re squeezing his cock, spilling yourself all over him as you moan loudly into his ear as he comes seconds after, throwing his head back as he groans with pleasure as thick ropes of white come paint your insides.

He topples over next to you in the damp, twisted sheets and pulls you against his broad chest while his free hand lights a cigarette up while he gets lost in the thick cloud of nicotine and musty sex. While he sucks on the addictive stick of nicotine, his dark eyes wade over you as his lips graze warmly over your sweat covered forehead.

“Did so good for me, hermosa. You wanna stay the night? I can get you all cleaned up in the morning, and we can go for breakfast. Maybe eat you out on the kitchen counter while I make you coffee. What do you say, hermosa?”

You shift closer against his side, sliding your fingers over his glistening chest as his deep breaths fill the void in the spacious room. You flick your eyes up to him and study him, watching the way he inhales smoke and stares warmly down your way, like he’s in a lucid dream just watching the girl of his dreams. “You mean like… you want to keep seeing me? This wasn’t a one time thing?”

His jaw goes slack as his lips parts open, putting the burning cigarette out on the pale blue ash tray on the edge of his mahogany nightstand. “That’s right, hermosa. A sweet, beautiful, gorgeous girl like you deserves more, and I want to give you that. If you’ll let me.”

You take in his offer, your fingers threading through his as you crawl over him and graze your swollen red lips against his. “Okay then, Javi. Show me your world.”

He cups the back of your neck and brings you down to his lips as he slots his tongue between your lipstick smeared lips, pulling you deep into him as you taste every shade of red he can paint you, coating you in desire you’ve only ever dreamed of.

He tasted like sex and candy, and you were just getting started.

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging or commenting or leaving me asks 🩷

Spanish Translations:

Hermosa - beautiful

Esplendida - gorgeous

Gravemente - badly

Follando perfecta - fucking perfect

Tan Encantadora - so lovely

Tags: @keylimebeag @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69 @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape

@vivian-pascal @msjarvis @amyispxnk @jasminedragoon @burntheedges

@akah565 @princesatracionera @rav3n-pascal22 @604to647 @pedrostories

@syd-djarin @tuquoquebrute @r3dheadedwitch

#Javier Pena #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena one shot #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #Javier Pena Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #javier peña #javier pena fic

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beyonce-knowles-carter · 2 years

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COZY act i - renaissance

“Beyoncé’s seventh studio album is an altar call to those who have forgotten who made house and disco music: black queer and trans people.” — ESSENCE

“In a rare message published on her official website, Beyoncé revealed that her latest project is a labor of love made during the pandemic and dedicated to her family, as well as her LGBTQ+ fan base.” — HARPER’S BAZAAR

“Beyoncé’s seventh studio album Renaissance include homages to Black queer icons like TS Madison, Honey Dijon, and Big Freedia (who appears on "Break My Soul," as well as 2016's "Formation" from Lemonade). Beyoncé bringing these artists to the forefront in a time when many Black queer artists aren't being recognized for their talent is definitely a statement.” — INSTYLE

Honey Dijon and Ts Madison are the first black trans women to land a Billboard Hot 100 Top 40 hit single. (As co-writer’s of Beyoncé’s “Cozy”)

#beyedit #beyonceedit #beyoncé #musicedit #wocedit #marya

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mariacallous · 19 days

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There’s a nasty not-so-secret secret no one likes to talk about, so it’s best to start there: Black women are among the most hated demographic worldwide. In America especially, anti-Blackness is the air. It’s everywhere even when you can’t see it. From the ivory halls of Washington to C-suites at Fortune 500 companies, Blackness is treated as less than. And because that is how it works and how it has worked generation after generation, not even Beyoncé, currently the most commanding force in music, can escape the fangs of misogynoir.

Tell me if you’ve heard this one before: A Black woman was told she did not belong, that she was not welcome in a certain space, so she paved a path all her own. That’s the story Beyoncé recounted in an Instagram post in March, the day she announced her new country album, Cowboy Carter. “The criticisms I faced when I first entered this genre forced me to propel past the limitations that were put on me,” she wrote. Unlike other musical genres, country is infamous in who it chooses to exclude. The genre’s history is rife with allegiances to the old ways of American prejudice, and no bearing or social position can change that.

The sweet irony, of course, is that now we have Cowboy Carter, the second installment in a three-act project of historical and musical restoration that Beyoncé began in 2022 with Renaissance, her dance-floor tribute to house music. She is on a mission to reclaim her time. The rare artist who can pull off such a canny move, Beyoncé now represents something bigger than music. She’s an industry unto herself: swaggering and audacious in reach, with a built-in fan base that anticipates every album drop, Instagram post, and product release. Whether you agree with the motivations behind her work or not (and there are valid criticisms to be made for artists who create at such a grand scale as her; mass influence in all arenas of life necessitates questioning, there’s no denying that), no other contemporary Black musician will bring more awareness to country’s gated meadowlands—its past, present, and possible futures—than Beyoncé. If nothing else, she gets people talking.

“I’d like to actually thank the CMAs for pissing her off,” X user @gardenoutro wrote Friday morning, just past midnight, in the hour following the album’s official release, calling attention to Beyoncé’s 2016 performance with the Chicks that was later shunned by Country Music Association members. Where Lemonade was scorned memoir and Renaissance flirted with fantasy—a disco-lit dreamscape where freedom and love have no inverse—Cowboy Carter unravels like autofiction, blending biography with novelistic flair on songs like “Daughter” and “Spaghettii.” It takes country into uncharted terrain. “It’s easy to listen to 27 tracks when they’re all good,” songwriter Rob Milton wrote on X.

That’s the other thing about the Beyoncé Effect: There is no room for dissent in her universe. Online, and particularly across social media, new albums of hers are given billboard status. It is cause for celebration but rarely one for challenge or sharp inquiry.

“A lot of people still want to join in with something larger than themselves. Fandom offers them a way to do that. It is not, though, entirely a utopian space,” says Mark Duffett, a professor at the University of Chester who researches fandom. “The concerns and issues that society has are mirrored in fan communities. They do not escape from being part of the wider social world.”

As powerful as her music can be, the release of a Beyoncé album exposes the fiction of a shared internet. There is not one but many. In its most intense form, fan logic thrives in isolation. On Beyoncé’s internet, as with comparable fan cultures, logic finds comfort in the sideways geometry of the echo chamber. Its reasoning animorphs into blind zealotry, wagging its finger in the face of disagreement. Fan logic butts against balanced judgment. It has led Barbs (Nicki Minaj fans), Beliebers (Justin Bieber fans), Hive members (Beyoncé fans), and the like into a cycle of heated confrontation, and sometimes wild irrationality.

Brittany Luse wasn't expecting death threats when she commented about a Cowboy Carter ad that was projected onto the front of the Guggenheim Museum, but she also knew “the Hive can be so intense in their defense of any criticism of Beyoncé, let alone any perceived slight. So I wasn't expecting nothing to happen.” Luse is the host of NPR’s pop culture podcast It’s Been a Minute and a fan of the singer. “I maintain a pretty low-key presence online, so over the years, I’ve only dealt with wild social media attacks a handful of times, with the Swifties or the manosphere, but never death threats. They probably should have stressed me out, but they mostly just confounded me. I said I didn’t like an ad, and now you want me to choke? That’s too much.”

That, more than anything, is the tenor of fandom on the internet today: Perceived disloyalty is met with Tony Soprano–style intimidation. The rise and permanence of social media has led, in part, to the decomposition of fan culture. Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram brought us closer together. Platforms that prized connection boosted the careers of artists from burgeoning to box office stars. But it had costs, Luse says. Instant access to celebrities rewired our relationships entirely.

“You can find seemingly endless content from your fave and befriend other fans more easily than ever before. Of course that would bring people joy,” she says. “But that constant, instant access also at least partially fuels an us-against-them mindset that puts some people into attack mode over their favorite artist.”

But perhaps the problem is not that such intense fandoms exist, but where they take root and make a home. “Another thing that has happened is that fans might be talking on social media to each other in ways that they do not necessarily anticipate nonfans will seek out or understand,” Duffett says. “It raises the question of whether a community can keep to itself and yet communicate in a public space.”

Beyoncé represents a monoculture at a moment when monocultures have gone all but extinct. For her, extreme fandom is both anchor and ascendence. There are downsides, unquestionably so, but the people who power Beyoncé’s platform provide a necessary function too: When the door has been slammed in her face and she’s told she’s not welcome inside, or when the Recording Academy twice overlooks her for Album of the Year, it is her fans who give her the authority to reboot country music in her image, and perhaps, in doing so, chart a new course altogether. “It would be cool if she never mentioned the Grammys again,” Luse said on X. “When you can do all this, who cares?”

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swampstew · 1 year

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𝕭𝖊𝖉𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Swampstew Bedtime stories are NSFW and SFW (content warnings on each individual post) posts featuring characters in the One Piece Universe. These is where I keep all the asks I receive, random events I do, and everything in between. This is the masterlist for all stories I write of other characters aside from Eustass Kid though he also has his own section here because duh😌

Raven's Silly Events - event announcements & links to fics

- Kinktober 2022 - hella spicy

- Blind Date Event 2023

- Oh Captain, My Captain Mini Event

- Buggy's Spooktacular Special Halloween Costume Contest Collaboration

- Kinktober 2023 - hella spicy

- Valentine's Day Event

- 1K follower event - Call me on my shell phone ~ 1-800-GRANDLINE BLING

Stoned Situations - random things I come up with when I smoke😌

- OP Blunt Rotation

- Period HCs - Monster trio + Law and Kid vs. your period

#StonedWitchHours

.Killer and Kid, and how their future arc will be linked to Skypeia.

.Kid & Calgara & Skypeia arc holy trinity.

.Kid hates absent pirate idol Shanks.

.Kid's Ambition.

.Killer's Laugh.

.The Florian Triangle Curse.

Character List - every character I've written for thus far.

Benn Beckman

- Taking care of sick reader - poly relationship with Benn, reader and Shanks

Black Leg Sanji

- Taking care of insecure reader - heavy themes: mental health, depression, dysmorphia - Suggestive, poly-ish relationship with Sanji, reader and Zoro

- Voyeurism/accidental walk in head canons with multiple characters - Spicy af

- Blind Date Event ~ Sanji X F! Reader - Picnic date

Buggy the Star Clown

- Oh Captain, My Captain! mini event - simple touches

Cavendish

- Blind Date Event ~ Cavendish X F! Reader - Rooftop Bar Date

Crocodile

- Pet Play HC - Spicy, pet play head canon

- Comforting depressed reader - mental health blues

Charlotte Katakuri

- Face riding - Spicy head canons with multiple characters

- All good things to those who wait - Spicy size kink

Diez Drake

- Oh Captain, My Captain Mini Event - Spicy, bulge

Donquixote Doflamingo

- Oh Yandere! - Spicy & Dark Content

Dracule Mihawk

-Mihawk Pet Play HC - Spicy pet play head canon

Franky the Cyborg

- Blind Date Event ~ Franky X F! Reader - Street racing and star gazing date

Gol D. Roger

- Oh Captain, My Captain, mini event - spicy, multi kink

Eustass Kid

- Say My Name - Spicy praise kink

- Rock Star God - Spicy auralism kink

- Eustass Kid loves to touch you - suggestive at best, mostly fluff

- 200 Follower Milestone - Spicy voyeurism kink

- Voyeurism/accidental walk in with multiple characters, spicy af

- Oh Yandere! - Spicy & Dark Content

- 500 Follower Milestone - Eustass Kid deserves a day off

- Taking care of burnt out reader - head canons, fluff and spicy head canons, Shanks is here too

- Just the Tip - Spicy

- Oh Captain, My Captain! mini event - Spicy types of kisses

- Oh Captain, My Captain! mini event - Domestic intimacy + painting

- Buggy's Spooktacular Special Costume Contest - Sexy Sauron

- Lemon into lemonade - spicy, yandere-type Kid but make it dubious consensual

- Really Really - spicy/suggestive, provoking the virgin loserboy captain

Franky the Cyborg

- Blind Date Event ~ Franky X F! Reader - Street racing and star gazing date

Killer

- Vacation getaway - fluff

- Face riding - Spicy head canons with multiple characters

- Oh Yandere! - Spicy & Dark Content

- Spoiling Killer - Killer deserves a day off

Kyros

- Blind Date Event ~ Kyros X F! Reader - Dinner and Karaoke date

Marco the Phoenix

- Blind Date Event ~ Marco X M! Reader - Beach bar and bonfire date

- Beach road trip - fluff, poly relationship with Marco, reader and Ace

Monkey D. Luffy

- Oh Yandere!

- Oh Captain, My Captain mini event - spicy play

Portgas D. Ace

- Beach road trip - fluff, poly relationship with Ace, reader and Marco

Red Haired Shanks

- Blind Date Event ~ Shanks X F! Reader - Drive-in movie and disco club date

- Taking care of sick reader - poly relationship with Shanks, reader and Benn

- Taking care of burnt out reader - fluff and spicy head canons, Eustass Kid is here too

- Oh Captain, My Captain mini event - Spicy. Subtle intimacy + hiding in plain sight

- Oh Captain, My Captain mini event - angst, lovers to enemies

Rocks D. Xebec

- Oh Yandere! - Spicy & Dark Content

Roronoa Zoro

- BDSM Variety Bag - Spicy, multi kink

- Taking care of insecure reader - Heavy themes: mental health, depression, dysmorphia - Suggestive, poly-ish relationship with Zoro, reader and Sanji

- Voyuerism/walk in kink head canons - spicy, multiple characters

- Oh Yandere! - Spicy & Dark Content

- Blind Date Event ~ Zoro X GN Reader - Carnival date

Sabo

- Blind Date Event ~ Sabo X F! Reader - Arcade date

Trafalgar Law

- Secret Recipe - Law makes hot chocolate bombs

- Something Growing - fluff

- Face riding - Spicy head canons with multiple characters

- Oh Yandere! - Spicy & Dark Content

- Blind Date Event ~ Law X M! Reader - Coffee house date

- Rough Night - Spicy with delayed aftercare

- Oh Captain, My Captain mini event - Sleep, simple touches

- Oh Captain, My Captain mini event - Spicy, Hair

Vinsmoke Niji

- Oh Yandere! - Spicy & Dark Content

Yamato

- Blind date event ~ Yamato X GN Reader - Ramen date

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