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koqabear · 7 months

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Hiii congrats on 2k sol obsessed with everything you write!!!!💓 Could I request revisiting emo boy? Like what their relationship is like after and dates and how sex is like? Maybe beomgyu’s band really blows up and he’s quite busy, how does oc respond to this? And with smut? Tysm!!💝

playlist // beomgyu's encore outfit hehe // cont. of hey emo boy!

“The day of your one-year anniversary with Beomgyu was expected to be spent away from each other— but not if either of you can help it, far too in love to let anything get in the way of you two.”

bassist!beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 6.6K (everyone stfu rn) // genre: band au, opposites attract trope, established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff tbh, MDNI.

warnings: they are in love and it’s fucking GROSS!! barely edited, the two have hella piercings hehe (bg: snake bites, tongue, eyebrow // mc: smiley & nipple piercings) pet names (sweet thing, pretty, etc.) use of the L word bc they are literally obsessed w/ each other.

smut warnings: hard dom! gyu, sub!mc, needy sex sorry 😖, marking, manhandling, dry humping, biting, breast play, possessiveness, unprotected sex, bg picks the mc up, scratching, dacryphilia, dumbification, a lot of kissing lol, degrading, slight praise, fingering, creampie, cum eating…? lmk if i should add anything !

Notes: happy (late) birthday to the fic that’s probably my peak… this story single handedly changed the course of my blog me thinks. thank you to everyone who was just as affected by emo gyu as i was.

Being in a committed relationship with Choi Beomgyu, bassist of Tomorrow x Together and an absolute unattainable heartthrob, was not very easy.

It was at first; with their blossoming career, it was more about the music than their looks. Fans were loyal simply because they liked their sound, their message, the way their concerts were filled with such energy and passion it left their hearts beating with adrenaline after— but of course, it’s hard to not notice the absolute eye candy on stage; low-lidded gazes, dark stage lights that barely highlighted their stunning features, and clothing that was just as alluring and flattering as the rest of them; inevitably, their popularity sky-rocketed, for better and for worse.

Beomgyu was left with more money than he knew what to do with. Most of the time, it was used to spoil you, his pretty girlfriend he brought with him everywhere because he was just too obsessed with you— it made his band members wonder if he simply had attachment issues by how much his world revolved around you. But no, you were just as bad as him; present during rehearsals, always in the studio to cheer them on or give them a second opinion on a new song; it wasn’t long before you ended up befriending the rest of them as well, a tight bond forming simply because of all the things you went through together.

As unfortunate as it was, they weren’t the only ones forced to bear with negative and hateful encounters from the public; while they had their experiences of being mistreated early in their career, you had to deal with immature or creepy fans that had taken a liking to harass you— inboxes on all social media platforms flooded constantly, your number even leaked once as you were forced to buy a new phone all together from how badly you were being spammed— Beomgyu had been quick to lash out and tell them to leave you alone if they didn’t want a lawsuit on their hands.

Overtime, they adjusted to their popularity. Schedules slowly became filled to the brim, their dream now a reality as they spent months on tour— and while you were more than happy and proud of them and their flourishing career, it’d be a lie to say it was all one happy and perfect life.

You hadn’t seen Beomgyu in ages— decades, centuries, eons— in other words, two weeks.

The band had more interviews and performances than you could keep up with; if they weren’t on some random talk show, they were at a photoshoot, getting interviewed for the next issue of a magazine you’d undoubtedly have on your coffee table the day it came out. Promotions, nights at the studio, it all added up— and before you knew it, your one year anniversary began to creep up, and all hopes to celebrate it properly dwindled down in your heart— but, having him here with you today was enough.

You didn’t blame Beomgyu; you weren’t angry or upset, because it was simply something neither of you could control. And though it did suck knowing you wouldn’t be able to spend such a meaningful day together, it felt a little better to know that you weren’t the only one hung up on it.

On the contrary— you think Beomgyu might be handling this worse than you.

“Baby, baby please,” he cries, refusing to let go of you and cuddling closer to you instead, a mess of tangled limbs and blankets as he cups your face fondly, “pleaaase I know you said I shouldn’t feel bad but please come on tour with us this week, I think I’ll seriously die if you’re not here this time.”

“Gyu, baby, I really shouldn’t—” you say quietly, only to get cut off by his excessive whining and teary eyes. His bottom lip is jutted out in a ridiculous pout, squeezing your cheeks and holding back a smile at the way your lips puff out as a result; you attempt to push him off you, only for him to retaliate by rolling entirely on top of you, a loud squeal escaping you at the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress, his stupid face hovering over yours as he continues to plead you quietly.

“Pleaaseee?” he whines, pressing his flat palms against your cheeks and getting your lips to puff out again; he ignores your half-hearted protests for him to get the fuck off, choosing to punctuate his every word with a kiss instead, his piercings a sharp contrast to his plump lips that crash against you with every word.

“Please?” kiss. “Won’t you,” kiss. “come with us?” another kiss.

“Please. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—”

He’s practically suffocating you at this point, refusing to pull away and mumbling the words against your lips, laughs breaking between the two of you as you yell at him to get off, that you can barely breathe with him on top of you; you’re pushing at his shoulders weakly as he continues to tease you, your unabashed laugh contagious as he quickly finds himself smiling as well— he only pulls away once he hears you yell a loud fuck, okay! Hovering over you with bright eyes and a wide grin.

His arms snake around your waist before he’s rolling over, successfully switching so that you’re the one on top of him— he ignores the loud and exaggerated sigh of relief you let out.

“It won’t make much of a difference though,” you say quietly, hiding in the crook of his neck as you confess your doubts, “You’ll be too busy and exhausted the whole day, I really don’t want me to be added to your list of concerns.”

You went on tour with him, once— but you learned it was better off to not be anywhere backstage with him during those times, the boy too concerned and constantly doting on you to remain focused; any mistakes he made hitting much harder, a subconscious pressure to be perfect and give his all only trifolded by your presence.

“What? No,” he says immediately, sitting back on his elbows and causing you to look up at him in response; his brows are furrowed and he seems a bit baffled by your comment, shaking his head adamantly to emphasize his point, “I like having you there. I know you like being there, I want you there— I wouldn’t be asking you to come with me if I thought you were a burden.”

He managed to pull out the exact words you were trying to skirt around— your face heats up at his reassurance, much too intimidated by the intensity of his gaze as you bury your face into his chest instead; his chest bounces from the laugh he lets out, flopping onto his back once more and hugging you close, bodies pressed flush against each other and one of his legs thrown around your waist in a childish attempt to pull you even closer.

“Plus, don’t you wanna visit Europe with me?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as he feels you nod shyly; he knows just how much you enjoy the travel aspect to his career, constantly asking for pictures or to facetime while he’s gone, “I wanna show you all my favorite spots this time, and not through some glitchy facetime— I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, shut up,” you groan, hitting his chest weakly as he simply laughs at you softly, “you’re so corny.”

“You love it,” he coos, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, biting back a smile at the way he can feel your breath even out— you remain silent. Partly because you’re falling asleep from his touch, and partly because he’s right.

⤬⤬⤬

Europe is breathtaking— you’ve never been so grateful for Beomgyu’s stubborn, persistent mind.

The tour has gone as perfect as always, spending a few days at their shows before you simply resigned to stay at the hotel instead; after seeing that Beomgyu was so distracted trying to look for you during a show that he missed his cue (and played the notes wrong to another song) you found it better to wait for him and see him after instead— ready to help him wind down and relax after another energetic, adrenaline-inducing show.

Most nights consisted of you practically carrying him to the bathtub; cooing soft reassurance as he whined about how tired and sore he felt, shampooing his hair, massaging his scalp and tense shoulders— most of the time, he’d fall asleep then and there, and it’d be another hassle to wake him up and get him out. You’d lure him out of the tub and wait for him to change into your matching pajamas— hello kitty ones, his idea, not yours— and greet him in the bed with a warm embrace and lips that peppered kisses all over his face.

It was during these moments you found humor in the contrast of his stage persona to his true self; from his usual attire, chokers and ripped clothes, wardrobe consisting of black and multiple piercings that decorated his ears and face, your thumb brushing over his newest eyebrow piercing fondly— versus the man that slept soundly in your arms now, long hair tied back and cute pink barrettes clipping back his bangs, donned in hot pink fuzzy pajamas— and you’re sure that if his band members saw him like this, they’d never stop teasing him.

You didn’t have to wait long to confirm that thought; Beomgyu didn’t bother changing as he met up with the others in Yeonjun’s room for breakfast the next morning, tugging you along and remaining unfazed at the way his band members burst out laughing the moment he entered the room— you felt a bit bad at the way you found yourself laughing as well, even more so because you’re the only reason he’s found himself dressed like this. (But again, he was the one who bought these clothes in the first place.)

“Happy anniversary, you two,” Yeonjun muses, smiling at the way you’re the only one who seems to process that, chirping out a cheery thank you! as you proceed to drag Beomgyu to the couch, “I feel bad that we have a concert today, ___. As vomit-inducing as it is seeing you two, you do deserve to spend the day together.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, brushing his teasing comment off and holding back a smile at the way Beomgyu is still struggling to gain consciousness, more tired than you thought as he simply stares at his waffles for a moment before finally digging in, “at least he’s spending the day doing something he loves.”

“Gross,” Hueningkai says, scrunching his nose playfully before laughing at the glare you send him, “you two are so mushy, it’s painful.”

The rest of the day leading up to the concert is spent peacefully; once Beomgyu has gained enough coherence to fight back against the member’s jabs, he’s pulling you away to show you new sights and stores he discovered from his previous visits, spoiling you beyond belief and buying anything you look at for a second too long; you end up with more bags than you know what to do with, and Beomgyu refuses to let you carry a single one as he proceeds to take you one of his go-to restaurants, as he told you; saying he’s been wanting to bring you here since the moment he found it, smiling brightly when he sees you enjoying the food as much as he did.

To say he’s reluctant to leave you to go to the concert venue is an understatement; you think he might start crying at any given moment as he stares at you with shining eyes, unable to let go of your hand as he stands by the door of the hotel room— not quite ready to leave yet, but knowing that he must eventually as he chooses to bring you in for another slow, loving kiss instead.

“Are you sure you’re not coming tonight?” he asks you, trying to hide the sadness in his voice and failing miserably.

“And make you fuck up your setlist? I don’t think so,” you try to joke, only to panic slightly at the way his eyes gloss over; your hand immediately jumps up to cup his face, laughing softly at his expression as he simply pouts at you ridiculously.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before you lean over to his ear, voice dropping to nothing but a whisper as you let your lips brush against his ear, “I’ll have a nice surprise for you tonight, so you better give your best show out there, okay?”

The low lilt of your voice is enough to have him perking up immediately; mouth parted slightly as he stares at you, unsure of what else to do but nod pathetically, knowing he won’t be able to control himself if he thinks about what you might have in store for too long.

With one last chaste kiss, he’s leaving— and only because Soobin was pounding at the door, telling him they’d be late if he didn’t go out this instant— you think he might start crying as he gives you one last pouty glance, waving to you sadly before he slips out the door.

You’re left alone, the room suddenly much lonelier and quieter than it was a few seconds ago— and you laugh, checking the time and running to your suitcase to get your makeup and outfit for tonight.

A revealing shirt, a mini-skirt that’s a bit alarmingly short— you’re pulling out a sparkling, pink outfit like it’s nothing, throwing it all on and doing your makeup as you check the time absentmindedly; your phone lights up while you’re in the middle of doing so, and a notification reads that the staff are waiting for you outside to take you to the venue once you’re ready.

Beomgyu loves performing knowing you’re in the audience more than anything; it’s something he’s made blatant to you, knowing that despite his mistakes, despite his small distractions, his energy always goes out the roof the moment he spots you there. So you knew how distraught Beomgyu would be to hear that you’re not going to the show tonight despite being able to, but the thought of surprising him is much more enticing than you’d like to admit.

With one last check of your appearance in the mirror, you grab a jacket before you go; Beomgyu’s favorite oversized zip-up, the clothing item a stark contrast to the rest of your feminine and bright attire— and you smile, adjusting the purse on your shoulder before you’re off to the hotel lobby, where the staff are waiting and ready to escort you safely.

The venue is almost full by the time you get there; you’re escorted straight to your barricade seats front and center, smiling shyly and waving at fans that seem to recognize you; your face feels hot and you walk faster at the way they get excited at the sight of you, not used to the fame that comes with being Beomgyu’s girlfriend— hell, you really don’t know how Beomgyu does it.

You’re more than relieved once the concert begins, any attention that still lingered on you immediately getting stolen by the boys that appeared on stage; you winced slightly at the loud screams all around you, unable to help the way you eventually joined in— morphing into another fan in the crowd, the venue much too dark for any of the boys to recognize you just yet.

They looked stunning in their concert outfits; the professional, matching and dark outfits tailored perfectly to each member, intricate with chains and rosaries and pretty layers. Your eyes widen as you watch Beomgyu walk to his position, taking note of his hair that has now been dyed back to black— you hadn’t realized how long it’d gotten until now, the layers framing his face and falling into his eyes as he goes to push back his bangs with a delicate hand.

There are no introductions tonight— the music begins immediately, loud and abrasive and making the crowd jump along excitedly, screaming the lyrics and reaching out to try and get one of the members to pay attention to them— on the contrary, you try to remain hidden, looking away and bowing your head every time Beomgyu’s gaze sweeps around your area.

God, you wish Beomgyu didn’t turn into such a ditz whenever he spotted you in the audience— because then you’d be able to enjoy more of their concerts, addicted to the borderline euphoric feeling you get from attending them, only for it to be multiplied as your eyes catch onto your boyfriend performing, your heart pounding against your chest at the sound of his voice ringing out into the venue— a surge of pride and love fills you as a grin spreads on your face, and it isn’t until you notice a member walking around that you’re able to look away from him.

Looking up, you make eye contact with Hueningkai.

His mischievous smile and raised brows are immediately returned with a violent shake of your head; telling him to not say anything to Beomgyu, rubbing your hands together pleadingly the moment he glances back at the said man— then he turns to you, sending you a playful wink before he’s off to another section, not without sending you one last teasing grin and a wave; you’re glancing at Beomgyu in a panic, unsure if he’s spotted you, only to be relieved at the sight of him too concentrated on playing to even look up at the crowd.

It isn’t until the encore that they’ve all begun to move around, (save for Taehyun and Soobin, bound to their instruments as they’re resigned to simply wave at the crowd when they can) changed into more comfortable outfits during a small intermission— Beomgyu is decked in baggy jeans and an equally baggy shirt, long hair messy and makeup smudged as he walks along the stage, smiling and waving at fans that reach out for him— he plays his bass so effortlessly as he does, truly mesmerizing as he stops a few times to interact with fans; the sight has your heart fluttering hopelessly.

But the closer he gets, the more you’re buzzing with nervous energy. Gripping onto the barricade tightly, having stood up long ago with the rest of the fans that are eager to get their attention. Beomgyu’s eyes scan through the crowd thoroughly, smiling cutely and returning hearts until he spots you.

He freezes entirely.

He’s no longer playing bass— he’s just standing there, in complete shock as he stares at you. You can only muster to give him a sheepish wave, an uncontrollable grin on your face as you laugh at his dumbfounded expression, trying to yell at him to go back to playing. But he doesn’t, and you’re jumping slightly at the way he takes off his bass and jumps off the stage, security frantically following behind as he rushes over to you.

His hands are on your face and he’s pulling you in for a kiss quicker than you can process; you hear the screams of the crowd around you, but Beomgyu’s got you in his hold so tightly that you’re unable to pull away, left to give in and melt against him as he kisses you for a little longer. Your face feels as though it’s on fire by the time he’s pulled away, his own alight entirely with joy as he grins at you, your head still in his hands as he leans against the barricade excitedly— you think he might just jump over it any moment now.

“You’re here?” he says exasperatedly, eyes scanning you frantically as though he were imagining you, “why didn’t you tell me, you should’ve— I would’ve—”

“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, placing your hands over his and laughing at the way he can only stutter stupidly, brushing his hair behind his ear fondly— watching the way his eyes crinkle cutely as he smiles, your own sweeping over the array of piercings that decorate him, hello kitty earrings glinting under the light— and pry his hands off your face, ignoring the pout he sends you as you scold him instead. “Get back on stage!”

Your words seem to snap him out of his reverie; his head is whipping back to look at the stage, at the way his friends can only laugh at him teasingly and yell at him to get back here— the way Yeonjun yells directly into the mic is slightly embarrassing, shrinking at the way all eyes are on you as the man’s words ring out the venue— Beomgyu, get the fuck back here!

He’s only able to leave with one last chaste kiss— the crowd is screaming at the sight, and you’re resisting the urge to cover your face in weak hopes that it could take all this attention off you— but you’ll bear it, especially with the way Beomgyu mouths a cute I love you! before he’s jumping back on stage.

The poor boy is unable to take his eyes off you for the rest of the night— but on the bright side, there are no missed cues or wrong notes played. He’s just entranced with you for the rest of the encore, his energy seemingly replenished with the way he jams out to the music; mouthing the lyrics even when it’s not his part, maintaining eye-contact with you during songs he knows you’re particularly fond of— and suddenly, the idea of spending his anniversary at a concert isn’t as depressing as it was earlier tonight— because now, he had you by his side.

⤬⤬⤬

“Beomgyu— Beomgyu please, not here…” you whine, unable to do much but bite your lip and swallow back whines that threaten to escape you, left to Beomgyu’s mercy as he immediately led you to his dressing room after the show— the said man is much too focused on kissing and marking your neck to listen, soft hair brushing against your face as he pulls you flush against him; back pressed against the wall, arched prettily from the way his hands snake around your waist and press your lower half against his— you’re holding back a groan at the way he’s already hopelessly hard against you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be coming? Hmmm? Just wanted to be a tease? Was this your little surprise?” he asks, biting at your skin and huffing out a laugh at the whine that escapes you; your hands are gripping onto his shirt tightly, fisting it in your hands and wrinkling the material as he lets his teeth sink slightly near your collarbones, “god, you look so good tonight, you’d really expect me to be able to hold myself back?”

His hands are wandering down your waist; over the swell of your ass, fiddling with the hem of your mini-skirt before he’s venturing under it— feeling the way you shiver against him the moment his hands squeeze at the soft flesh, fingers decorated with rings cold against your skin as he comes back up to kiss you. It’s rough and desperate, lip rings scratching as he kisses you with such hunger it leaves you breathless; he grinds his cock desperately against you, eliciting a small gasp from you and allowing him to slip his tongue inside— the piercing that decorates it scrapes along your mouth, unable to help the way your knees weaken at the feeling of him— his touch is everywhere, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded as you can only melt against him, allowing him to press you flush against the wall with his own body; your miniskirt is riding up along your hips as he situates himself between your legs, panties already a mess as he begins to rut his cock into you.

“Are you sure you want to wait now, pretty?” he asks, looking down at you with low-lidded and fucked out eyes— he punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, laughing at the way you yelp and tighten your hold on him, “I could stop everything right now, send you back to the hotel like this and make you wait, just like you said— is that what you want?”

Oh, he’s cruel— even more so because you’re left shaking your head no deliriously, your mind fogged with such need that your eyes are glossing over at the very thought of not having Beomgyu inside you right now; your voice is pathetic as you plead Beomgyu to finish what he started, throwing a hand over his shoulder and entangling your fingers into his hair as you pull him back into you— he’s more than eager to return the kiss, tilting his head and pressing himself more against you as a hand reaches down to your thigh; grabbing the back of your knee, guiding you to hook it around his waist as he begins to rut into you mindlessly.

“So cute, my pretty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, eyes trailing down your low-cut top to spot his favorite zip-up, a smile tugging at his lips as he merely sends you a cute smile, “did you miss me that much? Already so needy from a little bit of kissing— god, I love you so much…”

You think he’s mostly talking to himself at this point— spewing nothing but filth as his hands shove your shirt over your chest, grinning as he remains impatient enough to not take off a single item of clothing, choosing to push tug your bra down harshly before he’s swooping down to mark your breasts with a cruel smile.

“Looked so fucking hot out there, just made me wanna take you backstage and fuck you there,” he confesses, listening to the choked whine you let out, his pierced tongue playing with your hardened nipples, leaving them swollen and sensitive. He’s looking up at you with doe eyes that contrast greatly with the way he sticks his tongue out for you, letting you watch the way he circles and toys with the cute jewelry he bought for you earlier today, pulling away with a coy smile and leaving them soaked with his spit— he blows softly on them, watching with tentative eyes as you keen at the feeling.

“God, you know I’ve been wanting to do this every time I see you at one of our shows? To make sure that everyone that looks at you knows just who,” he rolls his hips into you, nice and slow and letting you feel the length of his cock press against you as you flutter your eyes shut from pleasure, “you’re here for?”

“Fuck, gyu,” you pant out, snaking your hands under his shirt and up his back, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him into you— as if there’s still space between the two of you, as if you’d die if you weren’t touching him at all times, “‘m only yours, only want you…”

He’s sneaking a hand down to move your panties to the side, the two of you much too desperate to shed off any layers— and as you listen to the clinking sounds of his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling out his hardened cock, you busy yourself by sucking and biting at his neck, listening to his stuttered breaths as you suck and tease at the joint of his neck, his most sensitive spot as you bite at it playfully— you’re only pulling away at the feeling of Beomgyu grabbing at you hair and tugging you away, letting out a baffled laugh at the satisfied look you give him in return.

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” you coo out softly, grinding your pussy slowly against Beomgyu’s tip that teases your entrance, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him mirroring the action, running along your folds and swiping at your clit, “all mine, my pretty boy…”

He laughs fondly against your lips at that— bringing you in for a slow kiss, feeling the way your mind goes blank the moment his tip slowing enters you; he’s swallowing a soft moan from you as he bottoms out slowly, keeping himself deep inside and grinding his hips slowly against yours— and he stays there, a tease like always as he watches your brows furrow and your lips pout, telling him softly to move, to do something.

“Mmmh, all yours,” he mumbles softly, pulling out slowly to let you feel the way every vein runs against your walls, clenching and fluttering against his length as he hisses at the feeling, “I’m yours, belong only to you, fuck…”

He’s not able to keep this agonizingly slow pace up for long— as much as he wants to tease you, to have you crying and pleading for him to fuck you stupid, he isn’t fairing that well himself— so it isn’t long before he’s beginning to snap his hips into you, cock curving and aiming for that spot that has your knees buckling, pretty nails digging into Beomgyu’s shoulders and biting at the skin in order to try to stabilize yourself.

“Such a perfect cunt— fuck, ah, just wanna fill you up, wanna see it dripping down those pretty thighs— stupid fucking skirt can’t hide anything, ugh—” his voice is deep and breathy as he continues to talk into your ear, his hands sliding down to the swell of your ass before he’s holding it there— lifting you up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist as you’re left to his mercy; his chest is pressed flush against yours as he fucks you, and you can only bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your sounds, the rough way you bounce from his thrusts causing your nails to slip and scratch down his back— he hisses at the feeling, only to be spurred by the stinging sensation it leaves behind.

“So loud, shit,” he laughs meanly, grinning at the way you only bury your face into him more to try and muffle your sounds, “want everyone to hear you? All the staff, the members— I’m sure they’d like to see what a pretty doll you are for me.”

You shake your head at that— but your body gives you away as your cunt clenches around him pathetically, the wet sounds of skin against skin filling the room and undoubtedly filtering outside— but you remain persistent to keep your moans to yourself, choking back on sounds of pleasure as Beomgyu only begins to fuck you rougher; your silence is a challenge, one he’ll gladly take as he begins to roll his hips into you just the way you like it.

“Come on pretty, I wanna hear you,” he purrs into your ear, a hand snaking around to rub at your clit while the other remains firm on your ass, “don’t you feel good? I can make you feel even better— so, so so good, just let me hear your cute little sounds.”

You’re playing hard to get. And Beomgyu takes absolute pleasure in it, watching the way you shake and dig your nails into him helplessly, your body being wound up from how good he fucks you; your thighs are sticky and shining from your arousal, poorly concealed pleasure only fueling Beomgyu’s ego further as he reaches up to tug your head out from it’s hiding spot.

He thinks he might just cum on the spot; your makeup is ruined, tears of mascara running down your cheeks as you merely let out soft hiccups of moans, your lips parted and brain completely empty as you stare at him— he smiles at you in return, capturing your lips in another kiss as his hand begins to trail down; toying with your breasts, nimble fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you jolt and whine into his mouth at the sensation.

“Gyu— gonna— need to, ah…!” the choked whimpers you let out aren’t enough for Beomgyu, and he only slows down at your request; fresh tears stream down your cheeks as you plead softly, breathy voice barely above a whisper as you whine quietly to keep going, don’t stop, please gyu, pleeaaase….

“Hmm? What’s that? I can’t hear you, baby,” he murmurs softly against your lips, slowing to nothing but a grind as he presses himself against you— pelvis grinding against your clit, the feeling making you tremble as you dig your nails into his shoulders once more. “Come on sweet thing, tell me what you need.”

You’re telling him— begging, pleading, breathy whimpers and soft cries escaping you as you roll your hips into him, biting your lip and sighing exasperatedly at the way he simply watches you with dark eyes, slowing down until he’s simply bottomed out inside you.

“What do you want?” he asks softly, breathy voice intertwined with a lilt so sweet you’d almost think he pities you— and by the way he’s looking at you, he just might, swollen lips caught between his teeth to try and suppress a smile. You’re still weak and quiet as you try to voice your wants, looking at him through wet lashes, a pout on your face as your hands run absentmindedly up and down his back.

“Wanna cum?” he coos, pretty hand reaching down to circle and pinch your clit teasingly, “Want me to fuck you? Fill you up? Hmmm?”

All you can do is nod along to his words stupidly— and obviously, it’s the very last thing your boyfriend wants, abandoning your clit and reaching up to grab your face roughly; fingers digging into your cheeks, forced to look at him as he merely glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth.

“Tell me,” he says, voice sharp and dangerous as he narrows his eyes, “use your words— or, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you dumb already.”

He’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist at that; you’re stumbling slightly, leg too weak to let you stand as you merely cry at him to wait, bringing him closer to you in fear that he might pull out and leave you like this— his fingers still dig into your cheeks as you speak, drool building up at the corners of your pouty lips as you stutter out exactly what you want— what he wants to hear.

“Want you to fuck me, use me— wanna cum, please,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he shakes your head teasingly, as though to say and what else? “Want you to cum inside, baby please, just wanna feel good—”

You’re rambling at this point. But Beomgyu enjoys it nonetheless, telling you to keep going as he begins to move again; slowly at first, allowing you to feel the drag of his thick cock against your walls as your words become stuttered through weak moans, the sight making your boyfriend laugh as he slowly begins to pick up his pace.

“Like it when I fuck you like this, yeah?” you’re nodding in confirmation to his words; staring at him with pleading eyes, whimpering a soft harder, faster, that the man is immediately obliging as he coos at the way you yelp at the sensation. “Want it harder? Hmmm? Want me to fuck you ‘till you can’t even walk—? Have to carry you out of here, let everyone see the way your sweet cunt is filled up by me?”

All you can do is nod to his words at this point; whimpering a weak yes, yesyesyes, want you to fill me up, use me, more more please—

Everything crashes down on you unexpectedly; your eyes are shutting tight and you think you might just black out as your orgasm hit you suddenly, cunt squeezing and fluttering around Beomgyu’s cock as he groans at the sensation— he lets you ride it out, cooing soft praise into your ear before he’s pulling you in for another kiss; you’re barely able to kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and letting him do whatever he wants with you.

It isn’t long before he’s cumming inside you as well; you’re so tight he can barely move, your cute whimpers and warm cunt guiding him through it as he fucks into you slowly, making sure none of his release slips out as he continues to fuck you, even after he’s become horribly sensitive. Then he’s still, lips still on yours and arms wrapped tightly around you as though he’s afraid to let you go.

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, still lingering close to you, taking in your appearance with tentative eyes. You nod softly, still attempting to catch your breath as you chest heaves against his; he huffs out a soft laugh, caressing your cheek fondly before he’s going to fix your clothes— your mini-skirt remains up on your hips, his cock still bottomed out inside you as he coos about how good you were for him, caressing any skin he can get his hands on (which is a lot, considering your wardrobe) with a smile.

“Pretty girl, so perfect,” he coos, finally pulling out and tucking himself in before he’s going to fix your clothing; not without slipping his fingers inside your cunt one last time, watching with hungry eyes as you curl into him and cry that you’re sensitive— he’s only satisfied after his cum is left snug in your pussy, smiling darkly at the way he brings his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean— you do it without any hesitation, and Beomgyu swears he might just be getting hard again.

“Love you so much, thank you for coming to see me today,” he says instead, bringing you in for a warm hug and a loving kiss; you merely hum tiredly in response, hands slipping out from his shirt only to be thrown over his shoulders leisurely.

Your face feels hot the moment he’s trying to get the two of you to leave back for the hotel— because your legs are absolutely not cooperating with you.

“Holy shit, I was joking about that whole fuck you till you can’t walk thing,” he laughs, only to get cut of by the way you hit him in response— he’s letting out an exaggerated whimper at that, rubbing his arm and telling you sorry, sorry baby, with a cute pout.

“Ugh, I don’t want anyone to see me like this, fuck,” you mourn, only for Beomgyu to pull you into his side firmly, sending you a smile that’s not as reassuring as you wish it was.

“I’m sure no one will notice,” he says simply, swinging the door open and immediately being met with Soobin passing by.

He slows down at the sight of you two, glancing at your appearances briefly before he keeps walking.

“Try to keep it down next time please,” he yells out, turning the corner and disappearing from your sight before you can retaliate. You feel slightly mortified by his words, but Beomgyu isn’t affected in the slightest as he leans over to murmur softly into your ear.

“Should we continue this at the hotel, pretty?”

You don’t answer his question. But he already knows the answer, sending you a giddy smile and intertwining his fingers with yours as he leads you to where the staff car is waiting for you two— and you hold back a smile of your own as you trail (limp, kinda) behind him. It’ll be a long night, but you couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your anniversary, no matter how unconventional it is.

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #beomgyu ff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot #beomgyu x reader #[2k event!]#[nsfw]#[revisiting stories]

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voltronisanobsession · 7 months

Note

Hello! Could you do Percy pinning after another Demi-god?

Percy Pinning Over Reader

Hiiii!! Percy pinning over someone in my opinion is just a really cute concept 😍

also guys I’m going to try and respond to the asks in my inbox, I have some free time now that it’s the weekend😜🔥🔥

He would the definition of puppy love

When he first sees reader at camp half blood, it’s like his entire world quite literally stopped

Heart eyes, blushing a little when you introduce yourself, Percy is absolutely SMITTEN for you

Omg he would be SO nervous around you for while

Like Percy’s fumbling over his words and making the WORST awkward jokes known to existence

He would try to be smooth when talking to you but he just gets too nervous to even finish his sentence

He would totally over explain a joke or saracastic comment he made when you’re around

He doesn’t want you to think his jokes suck ok💔

He’s always pairing up with you during games and training at camp since he likes being around you

It’s moments like those where he can act normally, making small jokes and being able to talk comfortably with you since there aren’t a bunch of people looking at you guys

His crush on you is super obvious but you just think he really wants to be you’re friend (but you do want to believe there’s something else)

Now the actual pining part

I feel like he would try and keep his distance from you because of how chaotic his life is

This dude goes years with his life being in danger every single time

The last thing he would want is to drag his crush head first into danger which is why he manages to keep some distance from you

Like come on guys, if Percy gave himself the big push something could totally happen between y’all

But he believes that with everyone basically out to get his head, he doesn’t deserve something as normal as being in a relationship

So he forces himself to stay behind that thin line of being just friends and something more

Forces himself to watch as you continue your life while he continues his

Forced to watch from a distance as you flourish over time

Like as much as it breaks him to see other people show romantic interest in you, he can’t bring himself to admit his feelings for you

Grover has caught him staring at you longingly multiple times and he’s starting to lowkey feel bad for him at this point😭😭

He would try hyping Percy up, to push him to finally make the game changing move

“Come on Percy! You can’t just stare at them forever!”

“I can sure try.”

You’re gonna have to tell them how you feel eventually.”

“And have them laugh in my face? Yeah right.”

Like Percy is clueless to your own pining as well, he’s too busy moping around to see you always looking towards his direction, almost like you’re waiting for him to come up to you

If he’s ever going to get out of the pining phase of your relationship, I think you would have to make the first move on him

He would be SO HAPPY if you did, he’s just so concerned about putting you in danger if you’re with him

As long as you reassure him that this is something you want, you really want, then he’s all down

This dude is super giddy and happy now the he won’t have to look at you from a distance anymore😭😭😭

Yeah for the most part, his pining could lead to two different scenarios

One where you make the move on him and start a relationship, or one where his pining turns to unrequited love

#pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo headcanons #pjo #Percy jackson #Percy jackson headcanons #percy pjo #x reader #headcanons #percy jackon and the olympians

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solarrclxud · 2 months

Text

HAPPY VALENTINES

pairing : multi x reader (wriothesley , neuvillette , childe , ,xiao )

genre: fluff

warnings : not proofread , the use of " my love"

a/n: well guess who just got revived from the dead ! (its me hello) ALSO ill be getting to my inbox soon! thank you for the requests while i was gone !

Wriothesley watched you dust a shelf that held his extravagant and excessive tea collection . You were muttering something about how he really needed to clean more often when he shifted his head off of his palm to grin . You squinted at him . " You're being suspicious" you prodded him. He shook his head and looked down to the work he was supposed to be doing as you resumed dusting , moving to the shelf below , only to see a tiny box behind the usual boxes of tea. With a slight frown you attempted to move it to the front . As you put it down , something rattled within and u heard wriothesley get up from his chair . " Finally, i thought you'd never find it" he laughed. You stared at him confused . He smiled and made his way over to you , opening the box in your hands to reveal a keychain . One you'd seen in the market a few days ago but hadn't bought.

" Happy valentines my love "

Xiao was deliberate with his gifts. They were frequent and personal. Thanks to him, you had an entire box tucked away in your cupboard , full to the brim with charms to ward off evil, flowers he had picked up and chunks of ore he had carved while u slept. Today when you awoke to a piece of jade used as a paperweight for a small note on your side table, it was not a new occurrence. The note was written in beautiful flourish and u smiled as you read it. A simple good morning and a wish for a good day. You didn't think much of it through the day as you went about the Harbor , couples exchanging simple affection was a usual for you to see at the cafe u ran but today it seemed more frequent. In the evening you walked back to the Inn , to find Xiao pacing on the balcony, slightly red faced. When you called to him , he jumped like a startled animal before he smiled a little, holding out what seemed to be a hair piece fashioned from the same kind of jade he had given to u in the morning.

"i have heard that mortals have this celebration of love. i thought it fit hat we must take part as we are...in love."

Childe was out on a business trip. His absence felt strangely heavy that day due to the presence of couples around liyue harbour. You had longed to see him for a week now but all you had was a letter from a few days after he had left , dating his return to the next month. It was one of his longer trips no doubt . As you got home that evening, you unlocked your home and was met with the sound of someone already there. You frowned , grabbing a knife from the kitchen as you etched towards the sound of...singing? Now that you thought about it the voice was familiar. You entered your bedroom to childe leaning over a bouquet of flowers strategically placed on the bed humming a tune in obvious excitement. You began to laugh, causing him to turn around to see you and inevitably join in.

"the job finished faster than planned, thanks to my expertise so i thought id suprise you ! happy valentines!"

Neuvillette was a doting lover, and contrary to his professional persona, at home he was nothing but a tired man. That morning you woke up to him for the first time in what felt like ages. You checked the clock, 10am, he was late. You uttered his name softly in an attempt to wake him up. He just hummed and nuzzled further into you, it was obvious he was awake by the soft smile on him face. " Neuvi you're late" . He shook his head and pulled you closer. His voice muffled as he said,

"I took a day off...i have a reservation at a restaurant but can we go back to bed for now my love?"

slaying with the comeback (school is murdering me)

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moonlight-prose · 25 days

Note

Heyy I never send requests because honestly I can’t explain what I mean but can you do

*hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you* from the fritz gerald sentence starter list with steven grant

I loveeeee the way you write him 🥰

THE WAY THINGS CHANGE

a/n: thank you so much darling! i've been off my writing game for awhile. but i was listening to the head and the heart last night and gained some much needed inspo for steven. only to find this perfect request sitting in my inbox yet to be answered. so i hope you enjoy this late response.

summary: memories of steven grant haunted you like a history you could not change. they were your dreams, nightmares, and wishes that never came true.

word count: 1.5k+

pairing: steven grant x reader

warnings: none, angst, my attempts at being a writer again, idk this is probably not very good so be warned.

The sky was set aflame as the minutes and seconds ticked by. Your mug filled with cheap wine sat on the edge of the roof, your hands clasped around it. You wondered if you imagined hard enough that maybe the liquid would burn hot. Would it turn to coffee? The same type you had with him. Would the sun fade to a soothing darkened sky, scattered with very few stars and even fewer wishes.

His smile was an object of permanence in your mind's eye. The quirk of his lips, the pink hue that fell into a pout of confusion. Even if it was just to show he was listening.

Although when it came to Steven, he always listened.

If you shut your eyes—imagined a night sky of infinity and constellations and stars not yet wished upon—you could see him. You could feel the way his curls twined around your fingers. The soft brown was somehow your favorite hair color now. You never knew you had one until him. They became a staple when you remembered him. The singular trait you latched onto when you could no longer trace the shape of his face, the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose.

“What’s your favorite thing about the night sky?” you asked on a whim. The coffee perked you up slightly. Bitter and grainy on your tongue but perfect nonetheless. It allowed you to stand there at least, to stay awake as his own mind fought against the exhaustion that no doubt riddled his bones.

He never complained though.

Never told you that he lived on barely enough; that his mind was a place of chaos he’d been privy to for quite some time. You saw him as much as you could, but sometimes time never seemed to work in your favor. Time seemed to be intent on keeping the two of you apart.

He smiled—bright enough to put a sunset to shame. “The moon.”

“Of course,” you huffed.

His life wasn’t a secret to you. Steven—ever the man to consider others emotions—made sure to be upfront with you. As much as he possibly could of course. But some secrets were simply not his to tell, not a history he could divulge. So he made up in whispered words of lands that existed centuries ago. In stories that bridged the gap between humanity and the past. He regaled you with the history he could speak aloud with the hope that it would be enough.

That you’d be okay with just that.

“Tell me yours love.”

Somehow breath turned nonexistent around Steven. Your default had become to live eternally without it. Not that you minded much. Breathing was no longer a necessity when you yearned for the sensation that came without it. The skipped beat of your heart, the warmth that spread through your stomach, and the love you felt spark along each nerve and each limb.

With Steven you felt like you existed on a different plane. Problems were nonexistent. Humanity became an afterthought, and the possibility of anything flourished like a flower at the start of spring. Bright and beautiful and full of endless potential.

You’d describe your relationship with Steven that way. A perfect replica of that actually, but every now and then life collided with your shining star, knocking away the wish before you could make it. Steven held your hope in his open and inviting palms, yet the thought of permanency with him…felt further away with each passing day. He couldn’t remain. He could barely stay for the moments spent awake together.

“The stars,” you whispered, casting your gaze out onto the sea of tiny shining sparks in the sky. An endless amount of them out in space, yet so few shone in the night sky.

“For the wishes?”

You smiled. “I guess so.”

Oblivious to you, he had moved closer, his leg centimeters away from brushing against yours. “What are you wishing for tonight?”

Could you tell him? Could you reveal that your mind—your heart—was set on him. After all this time it would always be him. Steven had sunk into your life as one would fall to the bottom of a river. Softly, smoothly, until your breath slipped free in a thousand tiny bubbles. Yet you held the option to come up for air; you had every choice layed out in front of you.

When it came to Steve though…sinking was the choice you’d make every time. You’d rather drown in his sweetness than live without it. A fact that you’d come to terms with months ago.

“You tell me,” you replied, your eyes meeting his. So full of life, so full of hope. It nearly broke your heart in two.

He smiled. “It’s not really a wish.”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s…uh…” He tapped his finger on his leg. A subtle beat of morse code, each letter spelled out before your very eyes. You caught the makings of an L and an O, but the echo of his cough dragged your attention away. “It’s hard.”

“What’s hard?” you breathed.

He cleared his throat, a hint of crimson spilling onto the tops of his cheeks. “Hard to sit here and be so close to you, and not kiss you.”

Your stomach swooped, breath escaping your lungs faster than you could suck it in. Yet you still held his gaze. You kept it like a closely guarded secret; dug your fingers and nails into its makeup hoping that some part would remain once this moment ended. Once you were alone again, yearning for him to return. That was the thing about Steven though. You never had to hold on so tight, because without knowing it, he was already embedded in your heart. He was a part of your DNA.

“It doesn’t have to be,” you said softly, leaning a bit closer. The heat of your mug seared into the skin of your palms, but you ignored it for favor of the burning ache that spread through your stomach. Until it wrapped tightly around your heart.

Like a vice you’d never be able to escape.

“No?”

You shook your head, leaned even closer, and watched his eyes flick down to your lips. “Guess you figured out my wish.”

He let out a breath, shaky and warm, and you nearly collapsed as it washed across your face. Perhaps he wanted to say more, or maybe you should have been the one to keep talking, but Steven was never one to keep you waiting. He yearned for you like the moon did the sun. An ongoing cycle of passing one another by, until nothing remained but your simple silly little wishes scattered across the sky.

He held onto each one with reverence. With the patience of a man who knew that your time together would come. You’d flourish together, pass across one another. Even if it was for a brief amount of time. Steven had always been your wish, your eclipse that was yet to come, yours in more ways than you could imagine.

Cupping your cheek, he tugged you close enough until his nose pressed to your skin, his shaky breath an indication that he felt just as nervous as you. That this small moment of time was anticipated with a fervor you’d never understand. His lips met yours, barely there at first, a soft brush of skin against skin. You felt hesitant, scared that he wouldn’t want more than this.

Until you heard him groan. Broken and long and absolutely withering. He tugged you closer, his lips slotting against yours rougher than before. And you felt the heat spill searingly into your chest, a soft moan bubbling to the surface to echo in the night air. He swallowed it with ease, his fingers lightly digging into your cheek, hand moving to press into your waist. You could still taste his nerves on your tongue, feel the way his body remained slightly tense, but with each touch of your skin to his he began to loosen.

He bloomed for you right there on that balcony with the moon as your only witness.

Hot tears slipped down your cheeks, the sunlight spilling back into your vision as you finally opened your eyes again. Sunset melted into dusk, the soft hues of blue and purple streaking across the sky. Until you could see the moon begin to rise in the east. A glimmer of the man that once held your heart in his.

The creak of the roof door echoed behind you. Probably another tenet coming to admire the view. You gathered your mug, wiped the flow of tears that refused to stop, and moved to give them the space. You’d seen enough of the moon for one night. There was no reason you had to stick around to pick out hopeless stars and lost dreams. That would remain in the past with the rest of your memories.

“What are you wishing for tonight love?”

The breath caught in your throat, eyes wide as you whirled around to face what you assumed would be a figment of your imagination—a cruel trick of your mind. Yet there he stood. Wearing different clothes, and holding a different demeanor, but you’d recognize him anywhere.

You smiled slightly, your fingers tightening around the mug. “You tell me.”

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight fic #a dream within a dream week🍷#me posting a fic in 2024???#unheard of

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cybertron-after-dark · 1 month

Note

I was gonna ask a question but i honestly forgot it 😅 so just tell me something you want to rant about

If you do happen to remember what you were gonna ask feel free to do so, do not worry about spamming my inbox bc I live for that shit.

As for the rant

Transformers Rescue Bots had some of the best, kindest, and most respectful representation of neurodivergence I have ever seen in media and I'm tired of pretending it didn't.

While there are obvious complaints to be made about neurodivergent traits (especially autistic traits) usually being portrayed in media by inhuman characters like aliens or robots, this being a case of both, I feel like thats a pretty negligible sin given just how human the show makes the robots feel. (Also it was like 2011 and we were STRUGGLING for any scraps of rep anyway)

But like. The behaviors all these robots exhibit are all shit that I do that was always deemed unacceptable when I was a kid and seeing it portrayed with the level of kindness and gentleness they do in that show has me fuckin crying a little man. I wish I had actually watched it when I was younger and it was first airing because maybe if I did I would've had an easier time explaining what the hell was going on with my brain a LOT sooner.

Blades being anxious, overly sensitive, and WHOLEHEARTEDLY queer (which they had the absolute unparalleled balls to just casually confirm by having him swoon over "hunky vampires" in one episode and NOBODY commented on it. Fucking iconic) and getting so so deeply invested in the shows and movies he loves that he acts out the roles with enough passion to steel his nerves and completely flourish.

Boulder getting really confused at concepts that are basic and intuitive for most people, but still being so fucking intelligent, and never being made to feel stupid for the mix-ups, as well as just being so wholely, unabashedly in love with the planet he's found himself on, even if he doesn't understand all of it (Also apologizing to inanimate objects when he knocks them over 😭)

Chase being obsessed with rules and law because he NEEDS the structure to not fall apart at the seams, even feeling the need to fabricate a minor crime to justify using the emergency line to get a hold of the firehouse when he can't find the other bots. As well as just fully not understanding comedy (BUT TRYING HIS DAMNEDEST), taking things super literally, and having a lot of trouble with tone and expressions (even though you know just how deeply he feels All The Time).

Heatwave being desperate for attention and recognition, but completely allergic to asking for it. And honestly allergic to showing any genuine emotional responses other than aggression. The constant sarcasm and sass and defensiveness that he POORLY maintains because everyone knows that underneath that tough guy front is the loneliest robot on earth that wants to be loved SO bad but would rather jump into unicron's mouth than voice it because if he lets his guard down who knows what will happen to him or the people he cares about.

Just. All of it man. Seeing them exhibiting all these behaviors and quirks that all too often get met with poor reactions from people who don't want to deal with what they don't really get, but here they're met with patience and understanding?? It's got me fucked up. They get to be functional adults that struggle with what they have going on but still push through. They get to have unconditionally loving relationships with people that treat them with respect. And that's the kind of shit that gives me a lot of hope for folks like me because maybe some neurotypical kids that watched it picked up on what's helpful when their friend who acts like one of the bots is going through it. And maybe some neurodivergent kids watched it too and for the first time they just felt SEEN.

Okay rant over, I'm gonna go cry over some plastic robots 👍

#post written while ugly sobbing a little #rescue bots was written with this complete and utter kindness baked into it #as much as i praise the show for the comedy and character aspects #which are still wonderful in their own right #it must not be understated how genuine and sweet and compassionate the writing is #the funny little flash animated robot show did more research than sia ever did with her shitshow hatecrime of a movie #maccadam #transformers #rescue bots

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silverinkbottle · 6 months

Text

Catch and Release pt. 1

Summary: It's been five years since you first met Dracule Mihawk. Things haven't changed, until one night, they do.

Word Count: 8.8K

Warnings: Explicit references of prostitution, violence, foul language. Sexual Content= fingering, clit stimulation, the wonderful female orgasm. Just slapping on an 18+ warning here now.

F!Reader is a Madam of a ship brothel.

Author Notes: My first ever Tumblr fic! I hope everyone enjoys, I do have more coming down the pipeline! I know my writing style may be a bit different than the usual, so if you have any kind tips please drop an inbox!

Chapter 2 ->

There were times you regretted entering into your agreement with Dracule Mihawk. It was supposed to be a simple exchange of commerce. Your esteemed company on occasion and a consistent exchange of information at the notorious Warlord’s leisure. Mihawk’s favor kept overly enthusiastic pirates and marine alike from harrying the floating brothel. Profits have never been higher,‘Unexpected’ expenses were almost nil aside from the occasional over indulgent client.

It all worked out. Practically.

A hiss escaped your lips as the leather strings of the corset around your bosom cinched a fraction tighter. Manicured nails dug into the strong wooden bedpost in front of you as you bit down a retort as a telltale ‘tsk’ came from Bathory behind you.

“Must it be so tight?”

“If you want to show your appreciation properly, yes. It’s a beautiful piece, Madam. It has to be shown properly,” Bathory retorted as the corset’s tug cut off your retort. Thankfully it was the last set of laces as the red-haired woman stepped back with a directed thumb in the direction of the mirror behind her.

“You are right. For once ” You reluctantly admitted as your fingertips smoothed down one of the many frilled layers of the corset’s bottom half. It was like the delicate flourish of a rose’s crimson petals layering upon each other as the wave of petals crashed into one another, leading to black silk. Small brass buckles no larger than the tip of a knife clicked into place over your bare collar bone to allow the flowing sleeves of fabric to drape down to your wrists. Tinted lips quirked as a familiar necklace settled over your throat, a delicate little piece of jewelry. One that both infuriated you initially and softened your heart as time went on. A silver dove with its outstretched wings speckled with shattered rubies. The accessory was no larger than the center of your palm, but it felt all the heavier against the top of your sternum.

“Seems almost a shame. Gets you finery to wear and the like but hasn’t done anything with-” Bathory’s snide comment was cut off as the nosey prostitute hastily ducked from an errant steel-backed hairbrush thrown in her direction. The dove’s weight caught your breath as you spun on your stocking covered heel as sharp nails caught Bathory’s blush tinted cheeks. Dark eyes were wide in fear as you fought the urge to sink your nails into her.

“We don’t discuss the arrangements with private clients, Bathory. Ever. If we ever find you smothered in your sleep, we will know it’s because you mouthed off about the wrong client in bed. It will be YOUR fault. So let’s use this past mistake as a lesson,” You hissed before releasing your grip on the woman’s delicate features. Cool anger brushed through your veins as you knew the woman’s snide remark had some truth in it. Your company had been requested frequently, more than several times in the past few months. An unusual uptick. However, it wasn’t for ‘that’, no, the pirate was restless. Bored. As he put it, what better way to pass the time than wind you up before leaving come dawn.

“Bored. I’ll show him. Bored.” You snarled under your breath as you forced yourself to not fidget as Bathory hurriedly finished your dressings. A trademark of your ship, all crew members clad themselves in modified skirts. Their lengths reach down to the feet, but cut window-like at the thigh, bearing stockings and the like. The cut fabric is held up by garter belts and straps at the waist, easily allowing the wearer to sweep aside excess fabric in a curtain-like fashion to be pinned back with a few quick ties.

“Not my place but-” Bathory’s words were stifled by a whirl of skirts. Your eyes narrowed further as a clear sign that further commentary from her wouldn't be tolerated. Besides, it was all too easy to pick up her next questions. Were you restricted from other clients? No. Why not take a dedicated lover amongst the crew if your needs were so insatiable?

Because. Boring. Your nails dug into your palm as the mere word floated through mind in that exact infuriating inflection and tone of his. Mihawk made even the mere thought of someone else in your bed, a boring prospect.

“He’s ruined me, Bathory,” You moaned pitifully as the woman rolled her eyes at your theatrics. It wasn’t something as childish as love. You weren’t that naive. No, it was the rush of excitement that came from being with one of the Warlords of the Sea. The mere sight of the sanctioned pirate made weaker men piss their boots.

“Shall I bring you last month’s berry stash for you to wipe your tears with?” Bathory deadpanned before marching over to your quarter’s door, opening it at the expected knock.

“You’re up, Hepa. Now quickly before we have to get the salts out for the dramatic Madam Captain’s vapors. We have reached Baratie, right?” Bathory asked as the young man in front of her flashed a bright smile. A wordless confirmation that the docks of the famed restaurant were within eyesight.

“Shall I bring you the salts anyway, Madam Captain?” Hepa snickered as he mockingly offered you his arm to be escorted from the privacy of your quarters through the dimly lit underbelly of the ship. All about you was a flurry of activity as prostitutes and sailors alike moved in a coordinated dance. Gulls cried out their welcome as the flag of the Victoria waved boldly in the bright sunshine. Her Jolly Rodger was that of a blooming white rose, its stem wrapped around by golden chains.

“Madam Captain, afraid we might have some problems with a few select patrons of the Baratie if my memory of the crews are correct. I’ve already spread the word to others about potential issues.” A hoarse voice addressed you from above as an agile form landed gracefully on the deck, swiping long black bangs from her features. A harsh jagged scar across the woman’s features did little to dim the natural beauty of pale green eyes. However, there were a few that had been deterred by Joan’s prickly nature. The woman wasn’t cowed by anything, not for any amount of money.

“Does that include yourself, Joan? Wasn’t there that one poor fellow from the 65th Marine regiment that walked off our decks with a few missing digits? I believe your threats to his wee -”

Hepa’s recollection was cut off by your hand over his mouth. The crew didn’t need to be reminded of that particular incident. Nor the bribes that to be paid to that Marine’s commanding officer to keep the grievance quiet. It was the first time you heard Mihawk laugh after you complained about the incident. Scoring Joan a few points of respect with the temperamental Warlord upon their next encounter. She was the perfect 1st Mate after all, and had been for the last five years.

Adjusting the center of the small black flat bonnet, the crimson ribbons delicately flowed from the headpiece as you forced a practiced smile on your lips. The games had begun as soon as the heavy thud of the gangplank hit the docks, announcing your arrival. It was a practiced mockery of polite society with all the bows from the fishman host, expressing their delight to be hosting your company once again. On such unexpected notice too. Once again it was a simple exchange of commerce. Lusty clients would cajole company with food and drink, heedlessly ignoring the cries of their money purse as it flowed into the infamous pirate turned head chef’s pockets. You had earned the moody chef’s ire exactly once, after a dispute had broken out between clients over a favored whore. Breaking a few dishes in the process, no, the worst expenses came in the blood that would have been scrubbed relentlessly from the pressed tablecloths.

Even a mere shrug of “We are pirates, you know.” didn’t stop Zeff from charging you for that mistake. For months on end, News Coos would be commissioned to harass you at the break of dawn until you finally paid up.

“A pleasure to see you again, Madam.” The warm but glassy tone stirred you from your thoughts as a pair of wine glasses were set in front of yourself and Joan. A genuine hint of a smile brushed over your features as your cheeky waiter winked at your surprised reaction.

“Causing trouble again for Zeff, Sanji?” You mused as Sanji muttered something under his breath. So, the pair were bickering again, the men fought over the culinary aspects of life like dogs over a meaty bone.

“It is to my great fortune, as I get to see your beautiful face once more. Yours and Miss Joan’s-” Sanji’s words slurred with the edge of a rasp as the flirtatious blonde’s attention slid over to Joan. Her face had hardened like stone as she snorted before idly waving away Sanji’s words like an unpleasant smell. Even that harsh rejection didn’t seem to dampen Sanji’s attentive nature as the man was all but offering to sit in your lap if it pleased you.

“Such a good boy.” You purred as Sanji recalled your specific request for wine from a previous visit. Delicate, full-bodied crimson wine flowed into the crystalline glass as you took an apprehensive sip of the vintage. It was perfect. Dry, but hints of oak and cherry lingered on the edge of your taste buds.

“I live to serve,” Sanji simpered before his good-natured smile slid off his face as if someone had slapped him with fish as a far coarser voice demanded his attention.

“I pity that man’s kidneys if he asks Sanji another question.” Joan muttered wickedly as Sanji’s charming demeanor had turned into a threatening storm cloud as the unruly guest jabbed a thumb into the waiter’s chest.

“Let’s just pray for all his internal organs, hm?” You retorted with another sip of the glass. Sanji could be as short tempered as his mentor if someone pushed the wrong buttons. Your veins sung with an elevated flood of adrenaline as you watched the visible muscle in Sanji’s defined cheek jump. Oh he was becoming livid. You were about to find out about what soon enough.

The man was all but sweating whiskey as he placed an unsteady hand on the table next to your placed wine glass. You could smell the sour notes of alcohol as he gave his best ‘winning’ smile before clearing his throat loudly.

“It is a great honor that the Steel Madam grace us with her presence, on this fine evening. Your crew’s charm and beauty is well-known even in the youngest cadets barracks. Some would say it is their goal not to catch the most notorious pirate, but to lay eyes on your very form.”

It was too easy to read the man. Marine. Boldly displaying his rank as a lieutenant with his few paltry stripes on his coat. The tops of his knuckles free from painful rope burn or the small cuts of errant swings during sword drills. Beyond all that, it was sheer arrogance in his smile when his other hand brushed over your thigh.

A burst of giggles spilled from your lips as you brushed off the advance with little interest. Confusion, anger and surprise flinted over the Marines face as Joan snorted into her wine glass from across the table. As your laughter subsided, you forced a polite smile on your face before allowing the cruel but practiced rejection to begin.

“You honor me with your words, Marine. Afraid you won’t be able to enjoy my company tonight, you see it isn’t because I am occupied at this very moment. No, it’s because you would bore me to tears with your little bravado and tales. Past experience has made me realize men with such pretty little lines and false sincerity have far more 'inadequacies’ in my manner of expertise. Perhaps, you should try your luck with my companion here. She does like teaching stupid puppies little tricks..”

Joan’s sharp kick to your knee stilled your words as you winked across at the stoic woman. It was far more likely that Joan would leave the man with more than bruises and healthier respect for the world’s oldest profession. You and your crew clad yourself as people first and then a commodity, sometimes others saw the second first.

Like now as ringed fingers harshly gripped your face, pulling your attention from Joan to the infuriated Marine. Oh, he wasn’t used to rejection as your eyes narrowed when his grip didn’t loosen. Now he was playing a dangerous game. The few quiet conversations around you stifled as onlookers waited to see what would happen next.

“You think you can reject me? You’re just a fucking whore. Aren’t even worth the trash namesake of pirate, since all the fighting you and your fucking slags do is on your back. You should be on your knees sucking my co-”

You quickly removed the three inch long hair pin from your hat. Fluidly driving it through skin and muscle alike into the man’s other hand, placed ever so perfectly on the pristine table cloth. The sharp point driven with such finesse that not a single droplet leaked from the impaled flesh. A pained gasp slipped from the Marine’s lips as you easily ripped out the tinted needle from flesh before neatly wiping it off with a folded napkin.

“You may not want to bleed too much on that floor. I am surprised someone as ‘well-traveled’ as you wouldn’t recognize a pirate. After all, prostitutes are one of the most profitable pirates alive. I could just as easily strip you naked, take your coin with a gentle smile, and decide to dump your broken corpse into the ocean after bombarding your stationed vessel because you failed to please me. All of those troubles are because of someone stupid letting slip about the changing of the guard and where exactly your treasurer keeps ‘stolen’ goods. All these little simple things that you can’t see potentially unfolding in front of you. All because you can’t see beyond your little shriveled worm of a thing I am sure you boast off as a cock. So, do kindly, go fuck off somewhere else.”

If it were possible for the Marine’s ruddied face to turn any harsher, you would have been surprised. Except, the little bout of entertainment was drawn to a close by the sickening noise of human teeth crashing against the floorboards from Sanji’s foot plowing downward into the man’s spine. Your head tilted inquisitively to the side as you were sure that some of the spinal column in the moaning man’s lower back had tilted a little to the right. Too far right if your guess was correct.

“Excellent choice in wine, Sanji” You hummed as the waiter stepped over the groaning lump with a well-practiced movement. Tipping in the precious liquid into your half empty glass with a slight glint of amusement. The waiter wasn’t meant to be a waiter, no, Sanji had proven once again about the reputation of the fighting chefs of the Baratie. Sanji bent at the waist in an elegant bow before offering you his hand to assist you from the table.

“That won’t be necessary, Sanji. Thank you. If I require anything else, I will know who to ask for.” You said softly as the man’s bright smile shrunk a mere centimeter. Still, he allowed you to collect the opened bottle with little question as you passed by him with a cheeky wink.

“I have seen kicked dogs that looked less put out than him.” Joan whispered conspicuously from behind as you both ascended the gilded staircase, the pair of empty wine glasses clinking merrily together.

“Please, Joan, not now. We have far bigger issues than him if-”

Your words froze on your lips as you reached the landing of the bar space. It was near impossible to miss Mihawk’s signature blade, coat and hat. Anyone who was anyone knew of the Warlord as several patrons gave him ample space with exchanging silent worried glances as the faintest hint of a sigh caused Mihawk’s posture to go from languid to stiff. Even from behind, you could tell he was focusing on something by the slightest tilt of his head, provoking his feathered hat to tremble from the movement.

“He’s…listening for something” You whispered in Joan’s ear conspicuously dragging her toward the edge of the bar by her wrist. Thankfully, there were a pair of open seats across the way as few seemed to be willing to subject themselves to the loudmouth drunk at the bar. Boldly boasting about a victory over the Marines. Was this the apparent target from Mihawk’s letter? Your hand didn’t leave Joan’s wrist as a quiet command for her to wait. However, it didn’t stop her from hissing under her breath as your grip involuntarily tightened when Mihawk’s gaze met yours for the first time.

Gods, he had beautiful eyes. To targets, their orangish hue struck fear into their hearts as a bird of prey rips a mere sparrow out of the sky. Yet, you knew better. The gentle flicker of warmth as you recount stories of some long ago memory, a curious tilt of head when you lose track of the conversation. The cool resolve and defiance as you begin to bicker over something petty, followed by mischief as he begins to try to crumple your resolve. Except, now all that you could read was an air of ignorance bellied by prickling irritation as you could see a nail run over the bottom of his wine glass.

Your eyes flicked to the loud drunk in a silent question “This can’t be him. No pirate is this-”

A twitch of his pointer finger was all the answer you needed “No. But wait.”

It would be difficult to miss as the loud drunk proclaimed himself as Captain of some mighty crew. Bold and brave enough to disable a marine ship. For the warrior of the sea was the great Captain Ussopp, it would have almost been an impressive tale if the man clearly wasn’t so deep in his cups. Even lies had a hint of truth to them. Why else would Mihawk be bothering to eavesdrop like this?

“A little push may be needed, Joan. If you don’t mind.” You muttered as you sent off the woman with a small tap on her butt towards Ussop. It was like watching an octopus camouflage itself within a new reef as the disgruntled woman’s cool expression turned into a warm, bright smile. Giggling loudly under her breath as Joan leaned forward on the bar counter, startling Usopp into almost dropping his drink. Did the man just enjoy hearing himself tell lies unaware that he could be attracting attention?

“You don’t mean you fought off all those Marines by yourself. A whole ship against a pirate crew? How frightening.” Joan whispered in a lower tone as Usopp grinned roguishly before raising his hand to his mouth in a mock stage whisper.

“Well no. You see, there is this guy..kinda our captain, Luffy, bounced it right back at the-”

Mihawk blinked slowly at this reveal as you took a few steps closer to the enraptured Joan, a far more demure expression on your face in comparison to Joan’s look of adoration. It was turning into a pincer movement as Mihawk joined with a mere request to meet this strange Luffy. Akin to a sheep amongst wolves, Usopp agreed as he slung a loose arm over Joan’s shoulder with little regard to her flicker of irritation. Guiding his ‘date’ and new ‘friend’ towards a far quieter table. Unfortunately, his associates were far less dim-witted as the swordsman called Mihawk out by title and demands for a duel.

Fuck.

As the game was revealed, Joan shoved away a nervous Usopp with a look of disgust.The young man was looking paler and paler by the second, threatening to spew all he had drunk over the bar floor. Or was it from the escalating air of violence that whispered between the swordsmen as Mihawk indulged the whimsical, but potentially fatal request of the young upstart. All, while the orange haired woman’s emotions were as plain as day on her face; all the fear and anger, brief for a moment as it was composed into a mask of calm.

“ You look somewhat familiar to me. Makes me wonder if you kept even stranger company than this-” Joan retorted as eyeing Nami.. Only leaning away when Zoro’s booted feet slammed against the table, a clear warning for the woman to back off.

Astute dark eyes slid over to your seated form at the bar as you gave a flicker of your fingers in greeting. Even drunk, you could see him rip through the facade of silks and make-up. To the weaponry hidden underneath the elaborate skirts. The heavier weight of the leather sheath brushing against your knee was all the more comforting now. Ronoro Zoro was dangerous, even you weren’t stupid to deny that.

However, you had far more pressing issues as your brain short-circuited as the mouth-watering scent of Mihawk surrounded you like the ocean itself. Close. He was far too close as you saw the tell-tale tick of his mouth flicker. Enjoying your stunned reaction far too much as he stood in front of your seat, blocking you from view. The delicate wine glass in your other hand shattered into fragments on the bar countertop when the swordsman’s right hand brushed over your left hip bone, strong fingers possessively curling around you. A quiet demand for your attention instead of fretting over the green-haired duelist.

Not once in five years had Mihawk been this public with his touch. The world rushed around your ears as you could see but not hear his sigh as Mihawk glared over his shoulder at Joan. Peering around Mihawk, you could see that she was getting far too comfortable with baiting the challenger. However, any thoughts beyond the pressure against your hip were rendered mute.

Why now? Why was he doing this to you? Thousands of questions burned through your mind as you blinked blankly at Mihawk as prickles of irritation danced over his words as he addressed Joan.

“Leave the boy alone, Joan. I prefer opponents with their kneecaps still attached.”

Oh. When did the woman’s mace come out as its heavy head in the glass table with a screech. Zoro’s fingers drifted towards his swords as you could feel your heart pick up from the escalating tension. Or was it from Mihawk’s tighter grip as Joan gave her potential opponent a leering smile. She didn’t work for the Warlord, she worked for you.

“Joan. Go find someone else to toy with.” Your tone sounded remarkably hollow to your own ears. Like you still weren’t present even as you could feel the faint stinging sensation of splintered glass piercing your palm. Followed by the faint glare of the bartender dutifully cleaning up the mess you caused. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered at this point as your brain tried to connect unseen dots of Mihawk’s display.

It was like floating in a dream, half-awake but knowing it wasn’t real. That it could all shatter within a blink of the eye as Mihawk escorted you back down the dining floor. An infuriating barely there smile on his face from your reaction. What was he playing at? Even the screech of the opposite chair and its sturdy back did little to make you speak those words.

The world came rushing back as the stinging of glass was pinched and prodded by calloused but gentle fingers as you tried to make a fist. Mihawk quickly pressed a thumb to your wrist, preventing the action with a cool stare from across the table. The dining area of the restaurant felt all the louder now as several conversations mingled around your table, some doubtlessly about you. All you could focus on was the tinted red fragments of glass piled up on the table, pulled from your hand. The bloodied fragments were almost as red as the wine in Mihawk’s glass that he took a drink from as he tapped a finger impatiently against the table.

“Please do stop staring at me like I am Donquixote Doflamingo acquiring you for my personal household. It was merely a bit of glass in your hand, not a mortal flesh wound.”

“It’s not that.”

“Isn’t it?”

Mihawk’s nonchalant attitude stoked your temper as he hadn’t ever publicly acknowledged the entire affair ever. Not once. Yet, now here he was acting as if it was a daily occurrence to show some sort of affection.

“Are you dying? Are you worried about losing tomorrow? Did you piss off the World-”

Mihawk’s quiet chuckle stilled your hissed questions as your eyes narrowed suspiciously. The man was hiding something from you. He was truly dying? No. It had to be something far deeper. There was a reason behind the madness.

The light brush of his hand atop your knee underneath the table made you flinch in surprise.

“Because I felt like it, little dove. Is that reason enough?”

“Arrogant bastard.” Your voice dropped to a low hiss as you could feel goosebumps prickle over your legs as his hand reached further up to your thigh. Teasing at the silken window of fabric of your skirts in short taps.

“I am not in the mood for games, Mihawk.” You spat as you took a deep drink from your own wine glass. Trying to keep a blank mask even as a hint of want brushed over your mind as Mihawk’s hand curled through your thigh.

“Then tell me to stop.” Mihawk challenged as his amber gaze glinted with amusement. It was a look you had seen time and time again in bed. Wanting you to ‘run’ so that he could ‘catch’ you until you were at his mercy. Like a feline batting around a mouse for fun instead of substance. A soft ‘hm’ slipped from the quiet man’s lips as you daringly spread your legs further apart. Daring him with a move of your own.

“So. The boy interests you? That’s quite a change.” You muttered in a casual tone that pitched up an octave as agile fingers tugged at the unseen knot of your skirt’s strings. Cool air caressed your now bare thighs as the skirts now gathered to one side in a layer of fabric. Frustration and desire mingled longingly as calloused fingertips skirted against your skin. Tracing unseen patterns as you swallowed tightly as the fingers brushed near your inner thigh before retreating.

“He has guts. A change, indeed” Mihawk retorted as his head tipped to the side eyeing your form. Quietly watching the subtle changes of your body as arousal trickled into your mind, clouding far more rational pride and decorum. The smallest increase in your breathing patterns, the start of dilation in your eyes. The keen observation made the pit in your stomach grow all the larger as the slightest deviation from the normal was scrutinized. A maddening talent when Mihawk felt like drawing out your pleasure in bed, edging you until you dangled on the tip of euphoria but pulling you back with ease.

“Ask.” Mihawk teased as fingers brushed over the edge of your hip. All it would take was a single pull of the ribbon holding up your underthings. Then you would be truly bare to the world. In public. Heat sank into your form as you could feel yourself begin to relax. It had been some time since your last coupling, and self-pleasure could only get you so far in dousing your needs.

“Mihawk.” Your voice was a mere breath that edged on a whine as your eyes dilated with the first gentle brush over your core. That little bundle of nerves would be your downfall even as the fabric of your lingerie covered it, it was almost as good as bare as soon as his pointer finger trailed over it. Slowly manipulating the digit at a snail’s pace with practiced brushes as you shifted closer in your seat.

It was almost infuriating as Mihawk was looking like the picture of elegance across the table. Draining the last bit of wine from his glass as he put it back on the table. Tracing the crystalline stem contemplating even as his other occupied hand did the same. The same slow, almost painful pace as you bit the inside of your cheek. You weren’t going to break that easily. Not yet, as you swallowed a whine as he brushed over the edge of your cunt’s lips, smearing fluid over your wanting clit. Further increasing the pleasure of the next brush as your hands tightened around the edge of the table cloth.

“Don’t give up the game so easily, dove.” Mihawk mused as you didn’t dare open your mouth to retort. It was impossible to know in the haze of lust if actual words or a mere pitiful whine would slip from you. Or if the man’s agile fingers would decide to go from teasing to dangerous. The rational idea that he wouldn’t make you orgasm in the very crowded restaurant was becoming illogical as you knew that look in his eyes.

It was all a game for him. Playing with your desires, bringing you to his desired peak before letting you go. Waiting for you to explode from a white-out blinding pleasure. It was inexplicably cruel and unexpected during your first entanglement, but now it was exciting. Dracule Mihawk was an exceptional lover when he wanted to be. Perhaps one of the man’s biggest secrets known only to you.

He was patient. You were not.

The little game of two turned into an unwelcome three as Sanji’s gentle voice broke through your focus. A fresh bottle of wine in the waiter’s arms as Mihawk gestured for him to set the bottle down. Watching the cork of the wine bottle opener was maddening as with rotation, Mihawk’s fingers swept over your throbbing clit as you bit down on your lip as you could feel your thighs begin to tense. Your breath pitched for the briefest second as cheeks burned with embarrassment when Sanji’s concerned gaze turned from the bottle to you.

“Are you alright, Madam?”

A hiss of pain escaped your lips as you forced your knees upward into the table. Bucking Mihawk’s meddlesome fingers away from you for a moment as you forced a watery smile on your face.

“Yes, fine. Sanji- thank-”

Your words edged from collected to a whine as Mihawk retorted with actions of his own. Within a span of seconds, shifting your lingerie aside as cruel digits brushed over your now bare clit. Want and desire purred in your veins as you swallowed tightly, rolling your neck as if that would stop the wave of lust shorting any rational thought from your mind.

“Are you sure? You are looking a bit red?” Sanji asked gently, touching your shoulder as Mihawk’s gaze flickered from your crumbling face to the waiter’s hand. Now the swordsman’s digits drifted from your clit to your soaked pussy, brushing over the hot velvet walls as your gaze went wide at him.

Don’t you dare.

Then pay attention to me.

Jealous. He was jealous. A completely foreign idea to you that the swordsman could become so prickly over Sanji’s familiarity. Then again, he was full of surprises tonight as you forced a strained smile on your burning cheeks

“I’m fine, Sanji. Don’t worry.” It was a poor performance as your words caught on your breath as the waiter's gaze slid from you to Mihawk. The utter disdain and irritation from the swordsman rolled off him in waves now. Go. Away .Now. It was a message made loud and clear as your eyes narrowed at Mihawk as Sanji’s steps retreated.

Too far.

A scoff at the minor scolding sent anger chipping at the edge of lust and want. The reality of the situation was the absurdity of this entire dinner. Mihawk’s strange affection and daring had turned you upside down as you struggled to put yourself into a rational mindset. Repercussions could be severe if you were caught in such a vulnerable position, much less the creeping shame of the blatant display of sexuality. The realization hit you like a cold wave of water, private, you wanted this to be between Mihawk and yourself only. Selfish, greedy, all these things hissed in your head as your hand caught his wrist, lightly pushing it away.

Why?

A curious tilt of his head as you hastily rearranged your skirts into their proper display as you rose from the table on teetering legs. Nails digging into the tablecloth to steady yourself as you took a deep breath before muttering under your breath for him to meet you outside in ten minutes.

The request was a mistake as your heels clicked restlessly against the fragmented dock. Even the gentle roar of the sea around you did little to quiet the restless thoughts that rampaged now. What was that about? Why did you stop it? What was Mihawk playing at? Did you even want that? All questions turned into aggression as someone grabbed your wrist forcibly halting your pacing. Violence and lust paired together so deliciously as you easily twisted ,while pulling a knife from your skirts, all too happily ready to slit someone’s throat. Anger singed the thought as you registered who it was.

There was a quiet screech of the blade of your knife embedding itself into the crate next to Mihawk’s head. His gentle sigh as the anger in your gaze flickered to hesitation as he released his grip on your wrist.

“We should work on your aim, darling.”

“Stop. That.” You snarled as your nails curled around the collar of his overcoat. Pulling your faces a mere inch apart as you could feel yourself being peeled back layer by layer within his eyes. It was like watching a precious gem shatter into pieces as you could see flickers of his own emotions. Want, confusion, amusement, a speckle of irritation when your grip didn’t loosen after a few seconds.

“What?”

Your retort went to ashes in your mouth as the question was one even you couldn’t answer. Not now. It wasn’t from the pet names, no, it wasn’t the first time for that. Your heart thumped a little faster as you recalled the first time you addressed a dove. A lazy, but affectionate drawl as the heat of sex cooled around you. The critique of your ability to defend yourself? A mere speck of irritation when it came from the world’s greatest swordsman.

Then what was it?

A soft sigh escaped your lips as gentle fingertips brushed over your cheek, trying to pull you back from your labyrinth of thoughts. Followed by the skitter of goosebumps over your throat as Mihawk traced a familiar path downward. A hint of a smirk on his mustached face as he brushed over the gifted pendant nestled above your corseted chest. The involuntary scoff from you when his fingers brushed over the swell of fabric instead of the skin that lurked underneath it.

“Now don’t pout, pet.” Mihawk muttered as your positions easily flipped with a light tug. Now the damp wood of crates brushed over your back as you all too willingly spread your legs apart to allow the swordsman's frame between them. This you could do. Could focus on as you shifted impatiently as Mihawk’s hands settled on your hips, teasing the knots of your skirt with slow contemplation.

“Do you want this?” A mere puff of words against your throat.

“Mihawk, don’t make me-” Your hand was quick to smother the bastard child of a moan and yelp as the cool sea air hit your lower half followed by delicious waves of pleasure. Your head tipped back against the crates as you tried to keep your panting softer, well-aware of Mihawk’s burning your expression. It would be over all too soon if you looked him in the eyes, he could read your body with a mere blink. Who knew when you would get this again.

“Should I stop?” Mihawk rasped as your legs quivered at the thought. While your foggy brain all but screeched in protest as the pleasurable rhythm over your clit paused. A hiss escaped your lips as Mihawk was quick to pin you back against the crate. Unable to twitch a single muscle, but feel the agonizing brush of leather against your soaked cunt. Even the scent of your own juices sent want further down your core as Mihawk lighted gripped your face with viscous fingertips.

“All I need is a yes or no..” Mihawk muttered as his eyes went wide in surprise with your next movement. Rutting, you were all but rutting against the man’s thigh, desperate to get some sort of friction against your cunt. Your panting came in short, harsh bursts as your nails desperately curled into the back of silken black hair. Pressing the swordsman against your throat to feel your thudding pulse as your whimpers pitched with relief when Mihawk’s thigh went an inch further between your legs. This was what you needed, wanted, hungered for after a long month.

Maddeningly your euphoric burst of pleasure didn’t come within minutes as expected. No, it is like standing on the edge of a cliff in your gut, never quite falling. Tears of frustration prickled the corners of your eyes as one daringly fell against Mihawk’s buried face. Shifting darkened lust to concern as he gently tipped your flushed face upward. Casually brushing away your traitorous tear as his head tipped in that silent question.

What’s wrong?

“I..tonight..was..alot. Just things on my mind.” You admitted sheepishly as your words sounded beyond clumsy. This entire affair wasn’t between fumbling teenagers or strangers. He knew your body as well as you did at this point. It was an infuriating talent of Mihawk’s to track the time it took for you to cum. With or without his assistance, he had astonishing accuracy.

“So. Stop. Thinking.” Mihawk chidded with a note of amusement. As if your personal confession had been a mere quip instead of something as serious as this. His eyes rolled dramatically as you stared back blank-faced, you didn’t find it funny in the slightest. A hum slipped from him as you wiggled in protest as once more he trapped you with his own body.

“I can help with that. Then you can happily prattle your worries off.” Mihawk teased as he pressed an open kiss to your thudding pulse.

“You fucker..” You hissed as he chuckled quietly against your throat. It was a dangerous start as you could slowly feel yourself starting to slip. Gods, you weren’t that needy were you? The entire evening could have been over and done without all the theatrics if Mihawk had just led with this. The telltale pricks of pain and pleasure as his teeth nipped at your sensitive throat. While his left hand gripped at your corseted right breast, feeling your frantic heartbeat beneath the cumbersome attire. Yet, the true joy came when you arched your hips supported by his thigh, as his right hand palmed at your clit. Tracing the small bundle of nerves in a slow circle as you could your breathing pitch. An immediate shift in pattern to up and down.

“Please, don’t stop..” Your voice edged on begging as you could feel your thighs begin to tighten. Closer and closer to that one thing you desperately sought as your nails sank into Mihawk’s overcoat. A selfish whisper of wanting for it to be warm bare skin instead of slicked cloth.

“I’m sorry, that doesn’t sound like you are cumming all over my trousers, dove.” Mihawk purred as you hadn’t a chance to even think of a response. Fuck, you didn’t even think you could speak in the common tongue as your clit throbbed as the pace turned from casual to harsh. Wanting to drive every single thought from your worried head to piercing bliss.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” The vulgar swears came off your lips like a blasphemous prey as your core burst from the hot heat. Your nails had to have sunk deep through fabric as you could feel Mihawk’s breath pitch into a hiss from your hands dragging over his shoulders. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to care as all you could feel was the slow ooze of hormones and the gentle throbbing of your cunt. You even managed a half hearted apology in your hazed smile, as a new jolt of excitement hit your cooling guts.

Mihawk had that look in his eyes. One that was both terrifying and exciting at the same time. That this little brief moment of bliss wasn’t enough to satisfy the swordsman. No. He wanted you utterly fucked out.

“Mihawk.” Your voice was a mixture of a whimper and begging as he all too easily turned you around to face the crates. Your manicured nails bit into the sodden wood with reckless abandon as he slid on hand over the cusp of your soaked cunt. You couldn’t help but shudder as calloused fingertips made a v-shape around your inflamed clit. Even having the slightest pressure near the shocked bundle of nerves made you want to whimper. Too much it was going to be too much as you shifted away from the testing digits.

“Stay still, dove.” Mihawk ordered as he nipped at one of your earrings. Humming gentle praise as your legs spread a bit further at his gentle urging with his free hand, caressing against your inner thigh. A choked moan slipped from your lips at the first gentle touch of your pulsing cunt. It wasn’t going to be frantic or rushed like your earlier failure, no, he was going to draw you out like a taut string. Or at least that was his usual choice of play as you couldn’t help but sag in relief at his next words.

“Let’s get you out of this rain before you catch a cold..”

“Mihawk!” Your voice turned from gentle grace to a harsh pitch as pleasure arched into your spent body. That treacherous spot in your cunt would be your undoing as tears stung your eyes as you were bombarded by waves of pleasure. Splattered by the delicious pain of your overstimulated clit, it was all too easy to sink into the blissful black once more. A snarl slipped from you as far different pain sank into the side of your throat. Even then there was a tender moment as his lips met yours in a gentle kiss. Never pushing for more as you tried to resurface from the haze. The cool reality is sinking in from the heat.

“You are never biting me. Again. Ever.” You hissed in short breaths as you struggled to catch your frazzled brain up with your current irritation. An extremely pleased Mihawk’s full body weight pressing you against the crate from behind with one hand measuring your pulse with two digits. While the other tightly gripped your waist to prevent any sort of unwanted movement. Like the silent demands on an overgrown house cat or perhaps a panther would be more accurate, Mihawk would move when he wished regardless of your grumblings. Wanting to feel your hormone addled heartrate’s erratic thumping settle into a gentle lull in the aftermath of pleasure. A quiet reminder of life since death was done at the swordsman’s so often.

Or he found it amusing that you weren’t one for much cuddling after the fact.

Eventually you settled on the answer of it being a combination of both. Your strained patience could only take so much from tonight. Between the light drizzle of rain, disheveled clothes and the pressing weight of Mihawk languid stance, it was making the little floating feelings of pleasure circle the drain. A sharp hiss slipped from your lips as you gingerly brushed over the broken skin on the side of your neck. He had bit you far too hard this time. In such a public area, marking you for all the world to see. Breaking one of the few rules of your agreement.

“You’re going to pay for this. Aren’t you?” You growled as your manicured nails tapped against the swordsman’s buried face to pull his attention from your shoulder to your throat. Flippant pain radiated from the reddish skin as Mihawk’s lips pressed over the mark gently. Your nails threatened to leave moon-shape marks as your request wasn’t something to be toyed with. No, it was demand.

Fix this. Now.

“Shall I buy you a collar then? Something frilly and obnoxious that draws even more stares to you.” Mihawk muttered against your throat, you could feel the faint twitch of his smile as your nails gripped a fraction tighter.

“This isn’t a game. I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t exactly maintain it if I walk around looking like I had been marked like some feral cat in heat..” You hissed as captains, wealthier clientele all held out for the miniscule chance you would take them to bed. An illusion that Mihawk took great pleasure in shattering by leaving marks on your body. No one liked to be reminded that their chosen company was shared afterall.

“So uphold your reputation. The steel-spined Madam of the Basileia Pirates, Madam Captain of the Victoria. Speculated by rumors that she has turned into a frigid bi-”

“Mihawk, this isn’t-”

“A game. I know, dove. So stop trying to play it.” Mihawk rasped as he turned you around to face him properly. There was an undeniable seriousness in his gaze as he lightly tilted your face upward, forcing you to meet him head on. Any further retorts or biting sarcasm vanished from your mind as the reality of the situation slunk in like a scavenger. Five years, this arrangement had suited you both perfectly well. Never entertaining girlish thoughts of romance except on your worst days, practical and level-headed. Now Mihawk was in the flesh, proposing an alternative.

“So, speak plainly then.” You whispered as a flicker of embarrassment edged your words at the faint tremble in your voice. Was it fear for the future? Rejection? Excitement? You couldn’t explain the confusing tangle of emotion.

“Become my Paramour.”

The word sank like a stone in the vastness of the ocean. It had an echoing quality to it as your mind burst into frantic activity. Mihawk wasn’t joking, he wasn’t baiting you into another game. He meant it. ‘It’, you didn’t even dare name the proposal in your own head. Fuck, how were you supposed to accept it outloud.

“Please tell me these long periods of silence won’t become the norm with you.” Mihawk teased as your lips went into a flat expression of irritation. As if he hadn’t just proposed something that would monumentally shift the trajectory of your reputation. To him, such a change would be a mere splattering of ink on some documentation, in comparison to the news of sinking entire fleets. Yet for you. You could already imagine the new files that would have to be drawn up on you.

“You are serious. Aren’t you.This isn’t just a whim.”

“Have I ever been one for whimsy?” Mihawk retorted with a roll of his eyes as your hands fisted around the lapel of his overcoat. A Paramour wasn’t a mere name lauded on some favored bed warmer. It had implicit marking of partnership, your name would forever be linked to the Warlord for better or worse. Seeing you at his side wouldn’t be a random chance, but expected. Spreading out of your life from bed to crew. What would their reactions be?

“I’ll give you my answer, tomorrow. Just don’t die to some upstart. I would blame this whole proposal as a sign of bad luck” You muttered

“Such little faith, little dove.” Mihawk teased as his lips met yours in a gentle kiss. The pair of you remained like that for some time. Even as the drizzling rain turned into a true display, it didn’t matter. Only tomorrow did.

Series Masterlist Here

#opla x reader #opla mihawk #opla fanfiction #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 4 months

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I wanted to get your opinion on this, who do you think is smarter: Kara or Lena? A lot of people forget how in to science Kara was on Krypton, which was way more advanced in that area than even modern earth (when Kara first suits up). And I know Lena’s a genius, but could that really beat Kara kryptonian intellect. Because I have a headcanon that Kara is smarter than most, but just never shares it with people so she doesn’t offend them etc (after seeing how much it would tick Alex off back when they were kids). But I’m still not sure how her IQ would match against Lena’s in science if she really tried. Also, side note, could you imagine Lena’s reaction to Kara knowing all kinds of advanced scientific knowledge? Part of her loving it, but the other half being slightly upset that Kara always put the pressure on her (during the world ending threats) to solve all of the science related problems.

Finally have the bandwidth to start going through my inbox, and we're starting out with an absolute banger. This is excellent.

You're right, Kara has a ton of knowledge and a Kryptonian brain, but after years of dumbing herself down, are her neural pathways still the same as what got her into the science guild?

Personally, I think she might not be hardwired for it anymore like she might have been on Krypton, but she's still wicked smart. Like, she has the knowledge, can probably recite formulas and such, but actually applying them might be more of a challenge these days.

Whereas Lena still lives and breathes it, it's her passion. It's still ingrained in her, flourishing through practice and stimulation. Where Kara has self-imposed limits, Lena is continually looking to push past any limitations placed on her by others. She continually strives, and I think that might be why she's a better science resource than Kara.

Also, Lena probably understands Earth's resources better than Kara at the moment. Like, Kara can have all the knowledge in the universe and maybe even devise a solution in an instant, but even then, if that solution requires resources Earth doesn't have access to, what good is it?

So, overall I hesitate to declare one smarter than the other. I think their brains just work differently, and they have different skillsets and knowledge bases. I think the more they work together, the more they each will learn and share their own knowledge with each other.

As always, they'd make each other better.

#supercorp #who is smarter?#neither #also #they may be the most intelligent ladies on the planet... but sometimes they're both still really really dumb

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ki-yomii · 5 months

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b.d.e | ksj

➥ pairing | kim seokjin x f!reader

➥ word count | ~800

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, orgasm control/edging, pet names, mild praise kink, wet & messy, oral (f receiving), prep, big dick Jin

➥ summary | don't you know he'll never fit if he doesn't prep you first?

➥ notes | gotta feed my lovely cinnabon wife @supertuna-sideblog 😘

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

“Shh, that’s it - just like that, baby. You’re doing so well.”

Whining low and wounded, the sound scraped up from the depths of your raw throat, you thought - not for the first time, and certainly not for the last - how unreasonable Kim Seokjin could be.

After almost a year of (secret) dating, his ability to worm his way under your skin only flourished, and he used it to his full advantage much to your detriment.

Case in point: what initially started out as a necessity quickly became a fun little indulgence for him, and a zero-sum game for you.

Winning, losing; every time he got you on your back, you were both victor and victim.

Not only had it taken him months to put his hands anywhere below the waist.

You were half convinced he never would have taken it any further had you not pushed, pressed, prodded until he quite literally snapped one day, bent you over a counter, and fucked you so hard you limped for days afterward.

It wasn’t necessarily his fault - you said you could handle it… which was, in fact, a bald-faced lie.

His cock was thick and long and stuffed you to the brim until tears clung to your lashes. The stretch stung, settling behind your navel like a lead ball.

And even though you dripped onto the tile, it wasn't smooth. But you were so satisfied, your walls quivering and clamping down on his shaft with every jerky thrust of his hips, that you didn’t care.

In the aftermath, you loved how rough he’d been - even if your new best friend was the ice pack from your freezer - whereas Seokjin vowed to prep you thoroughly before his dick got anywhere near your nethers from then on.

He didn’t want to ruin his precious baby, after all.

At least, not in the way you begged him too.

No, the devious bastard came up with a solution all on his own. Instead of outright wrecking you on his cock until you were sore and bruised, cum dumb, and cock drunk, he preferred the more discreet, insidious path.

He wound you up: softened your resolve with butterfly kisses peppered from the apples of your cheeks to the curve of your belly, and teasing caresses of his fingers over the peak of your nipple, the back of your thigh, the dip of your belly button.

Then, when you least expected it, he’d swoop in; spread your sticky folds open with his thumbs, and wrap those pretty lips around your clit while his tongue traced your entrance, lapping at the honey of your cunt with a low hum of approval.

Meanwhile, you’d writhe, whine, wrap your hands around his broad shoulders, and claw for freedom.

He brings you right to the edge, your trembling thighs clamping down on his ears, and then he pulls away, strings of your arousal clinging to the swollen, red plush of his mouth, the flicker of his pink tongue as he licks himself clean with a smirk.

“Jin!”

Your chest flutters with every harried breath, heat pooling deep behind your navel; pulsing in time with your heartbeat. Your pussy clenches, twitches as the cool air brushes over your abused folds as your orgasm is snatched from you.

Again.

“Please - please, no more.”

Your skin feels tight, and itchy like a bad sunburn. Your hands flutter about the sheets, unsure where to settle as lighting crackles down your spine.

"Give me your cock, or let me cum."

“I can’t do that, baby. Not yet.”

“No, you can!”

A low hum rumbles from his chest, and his eyes - twin pools of heated black - dart from the tremble of your chin to the throb of your poor clit.

“No. We’ve gotta make sure your pretty little pussy can take me, yeah? You’re still too tight.”

Tears bead at the corners of your lash line, and you say, “No, ‘m not. You’ve done enough prep, I promise. It’s - it’s too much. Please just fuck me now.”

“Oh, baby,” Seokjin breathes, reaching down to smear your slick over your tender clit with the ball of his thumb, groaning when you hiccup as the little bundle of nerves jumps beneath his touch, “you know better. I don’t want to hurt you again. Now be a good girl, and let me take care of you.”

“But--”

“Shhh. It’s all right, I’ve got you. Soon, okay? I still need to play with you a little bit more.”

#kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #kim seokjin x you #jin x reader #jin x you #kim seokjin

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kisilinramblings · 10 months

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After the Wish - Adrien's side

Hi, everyone! Are you ready for some scene analysis? Like the title says, this post will focus on Adrien's scenes following the Wish.

Before I start though, I am very well aware the ending bring a lot of very passionnated and very opinated minds. This is why I am asking to please keep an open mind and keep things civil. I won't tolerate any bashing or rude comments. Both on this post and in my inbox. Keep in mind this analysis in my own interpretation of the shots and scenes based on my cinematographic knowledge as well as my viewing experience and memory of the 5 seasons of Miraculous.

I am sharing this analysis because I love the show and because analysing helps me better understand what I see.

Also, this is a leak free analysis. I only analyze and make conclusions based on what it is shown to us on-screen.

So, if you are ok with staying respectful and open to see the episode through my lens, you are more than welcome to continue reading.

Without further ado, let's go!

After the whole universe was engulfed by the light of Gabriel's Wish, the white screen fade to a close up of Adrien sleeping. Marinette's head then block the shot temporarily before Adrien awaken, smiling. We can guess she kissed him.

This shot personally reminds me of the fairy tales in which the knight kisses the princess to awake her from her curse. And it isn't coincidental if the very first image we see after Gabriel made the Wish is Adrien. There is meaning in that. In fact, I want to point out the shot choice itself because I find it unusual.

We are facing a tight close up facing directly Adrien while he is sleeping and then awakes. Normally, we are more used to a medium shot which allow to see the character is lying down and frame both characters. The camera is also normally placed on the side and not directly facing one particular character. Again in order to see both actors at the same time. Think of Disney Snow White or Sleeping Beauty for example.

And even in more modern ones.

You know which other character in the show who had their eyes closed, often shown in a frontal angle and who we were anticipating to wake up? Émilie.

Except this isn't Émilie who awakes, but Adrien.

Not only this tight close up gives a lot of importance and relevance to him, but Adrien is so in our face that it feels like nothing around him mattered, not even the kiss Adrien received. What matters is Adrien. Solely him. And Adrien is smiling.

Then the camera starts to expand little to little to unveil Adrien's "new world". In cinema, we are quite used to start a scene is with help of wide shot before cuting to closer shots. Here, it is the other way around. Which confers a sense of mystery to the scene.

The first thing Adrien sees is Marinette, the girl he is in love with, at his side, bathed by the summer sunlight. The light choice hints we got a time ellipse between this moment and the previous scene.

As Adrien rises up we see their friends having fun in what we guess is the Agreste Mansion Garden.

The artists are painting a mural inspired by Delacroix's famous painting Liberty Leading the People where the characters are remplaced by La Résistance members and led by Ms Bustier depicted as Liberty herself. She is leading the youth to freedom, to a better future.

The rest of the class and their allies are playing in the pool or chilling together.

This series of shots show us the Agreste Mansion garden flourishing with life. In the background, the flowers are all in full bloom, the plants cover most of the gray stones of the mansion, garnishing those with vibrant green tones. On-screen people laughing and having fun.

Hawkmoth (Party Crasher) : I don't feel any negative emotions. There's only... Joy? What is going on in my house?!

This series of shots shows how we are at the opposite at how life used to be for Adrien. His friends can come over and party with him. We see members of both his family and found family. Adrien isn't trapped inside his home-prison anymore. He isn't isolated anymore. He is surrounded by people who love and care about him. And Gabriel is absent from the picture.

Like Bug Noire said earlier during this episode, Adrien already had all of that before the Wish. Adrien went to school and made friends on his own. He wanted to have a birthday party at his home (Bubbler). He wanted to hang and have fun with his friends on multiple occasions. But Gabriel was always the biggest obstacle for Adrien to have those moments, those memories.

It is Gabriel who kept his son isolated. Because Gabriel was living in the past and was unable to move on with life while Adrien decided he wanted more in life than being stuck inside a cocoon. And at the end of Revolution, Adrien knew what he wanted :

Adrien : Father, please, I know what I want. Let me live my life here in Paris with Marinette and my friends. Gabriel : You must go through with this like an Agreste. That's what your mother would have wanted. Adrien : No, I'm sure that Mom would have just wanted me to be happy.

And, in the end, Adrien's wish is fulfilled.

One last sidenote before I continue concerns that one shot.

Despite not being in the center of the shot, Nathalie seems to be doing better than the last time we saw her. She has a least more colors and has gained her red streak of hair back. Her pose however seems... limited. Maybe her body is still weak from the illness afflicting her. Maybe it is due to budget constraint. Or maybe it is both. And remember what Bug Noire said to Gabriel at the end of their fight : she estimated Nathalie had only a few hours left. And we are weeks from now. Either Bug Noire was wrong in her prognostic or Nathalie survived.

Émilie : Adrien will be well surrounded. He'll have you Nathalie, and he'll have his father, if Gabriel agrees to give up on his madness... and on me. Adrien will have all the love he needs to be happy.

Anyway, the group pauses their activities to watch a new show called "Monde Nouveau" (litteraly "New World") and hosted by Alec.

Alec as we know, has changed to become an icon about being yourself and making your dream come true. And him being the host of that new show instead of a character like Nadja, means that we are looking at an happy and positive vision of things.

He interviews Caline Bustier, now both Mayor of Paris and mother of a girl named Harmonie. She shares her program for a better future to us, the audience.

As she talks about her eco-rules, we see sketches supporting her vision. At the bottom right, we recognize the Tsurugi company logo, but next to it there is a new one we haven't seen before.

Next, we see an unveiling of the statue of Gabriel Agreste, which confirms that Gabriel has died. His statue is made of recycled Alliances put out of commission after Monarch's last attack.

Gabriel's statue is his entire height. Gabriel was already a tall character when he was living and his statue is even taller than him. His chin is up, proud. It is almost like he is superior, looking up like that. The camera slight low angle also contributes to this impression I have. Also, he holds a pencil like the designer he is.

Tomoe : Beyond the visionary entrepreneur and the genius creator, it's the hero we celebrate today.

This is how the Parisians in-universe see him. They are unaware of Gabriel's secret identity. They are unaware of the truth. They only know of the image the professional him gave away and they believed he died in an attempt to stop Monarch.

I want to point out the fact Gabriel's statue is made of Alliances. The very tool he uses to try and defeat Ladybug and Chat Noir. He turned Adrien and Kagami's image into avatar for this product against their will to sell both the Alliances and an illusion. He deformed the truth with their avatars by presenting them as a couple (Revelation), or make deepfakes out of them (Representation and Conformation). Now, Gabriel's statue, his image, is made of the very same tool he used. And the Alliances, despite being put out of commission, still contribute to blur the line of what is truth and what is false in regards of his character to the masses.

With this statue made of Alliances, the parisians are honoring the "perfect" and "pure" image they have of Gabriel. I cannot help but think that this huge statue is bound to create great shadows. And even if the real Gabriel is gone, something of him remains and will continue to have an impact.

Tomoe then talks about continuing Gabriel's legacy. To us, the audience, those words have an ominous double meaning as Tomoe was Gabriel's ally until the end and helped him in many of his schemes. And she confirms she will continue that work.

Caline then gets to talk about her new school model which pleases very much everybody as they cheer all together. It will allows Marinette, Adrien and all their friends to remain together while allowing them to explore and grow in the field that please them respectfully.

Then we cut the the sun setting as the cheers are fading away. It is the end of the day and everyone has gone home.

Adrien is now alone in the garden where his mother's statue used to be. White butterflies are flying around. Marinette joins him as he is fidgeting with his parents' twin ring.

Marinette : You are not wearing it? Adrien : When Ladybug gave it to me, she told me how my father helped her defeat Monarch. At the risk of his life.

With this, we know that Ladybug granted Gabriel's dying wish.

Gabriel : Marinette. Make sure that Adrien never knows about the villain that I was, but instead, that he remembers the times I tried to be a good father.

Was it Marinette's place to accept that burden to cover the truth? To acquiesce to her archenemy's demand? Of course not, but that is how kind she is and how flawed she can be. For Adrien's happiness, Maribug is willing to do so. We, as the audience, know it can only last so long the secret is sealed. And no one among Gabriel, Marinette, Nathalie, Félix, Kagami nor Plagg is aware the secret was already breached outside the family circle.

But for the time being, everyone who knows will keep the fact that Gabriel was Monarch a secret.

But even without the truth, Adrien is conflicted about his feelings towards his father. We see that as Adrien answers Marinette's question, he leans a bit towards her, but there is no contact. His eyes are fixated on the ring. Adrien is distant and inside a bubble of doubt about himself. There is a weight, a legacy, he associates with that family ring that he is not sure if he can bear.

Adrien : I don't know if I'll ever manage to be like him.

It is only when Marinette puts her hands on his, covering the ring and the expectations that come with it, that Adrien finally look at her, brought back to here and now. Marinette reassures Adrien he doesn't need to be like his father. Adrien can just be himself, without having to live up to any expectations placed upon him.

Marinette then proceeds in slips the ring on his finger. Adrien is free and in control of who he wants to be, of what he wants to do, no matter his background. The past doesn't matter anymore. He can just focus on what is ahead of him.

In this short shot reverse shot, we see a bit of Marinette's head in Adrien's shot, however in Marinette's reverse shot, she is framed alone.

This bit has of a shift in the discussion. Marinette made contact with Adrien, entering his "bubble". She has established a connection in their discussion. Her words are reaching him and moving him.

Adrien : You always find the right words, Marinette. When I'm with you, I feel so... free!

And now they are in synch. Both say "I love you" to the other at the same time, which make them laugh. And Adrien wraps Marinette's hand as if he never wants to let her go. As if he will protect and cherish her with all his might. She makes him that happy.

As the white butterflies illustrate, there is no negative emotions around. Only pure hapiness. Only love. And they are kissing where Émilie's statue used to be.

Émilie's message in Collusion : Adrien shouldn't have to suffer the consequences of our mistakes. Our little prince has the right to create his own vision of happiness.

In other words, Monarch did not win. Émilie won. Gabriel has used the Wish, yes, but his wish was different than the one he wanted to make for 5 seasons. And it is not unusual for Gabriel to do everything in his power to grant any of Émilie's wishes. And her final wishes were : for Gabriel to let go of his madness, to not bring her back, and for Adrien to be happy.

And the ghost of Émilie can now rest in peace and stop haunting these walls. And Adrien can fully love Marinette the way he wants without any obstacle in the way anymore.

And all points to the Power of Love has ultimately won. Even the most important characters in those scene all have a link related to love.

Adrien was created by love. Ms Bustier promotes love as one of her teachings and she was akumatized twice out of that very emotion (spread love, protect the children's future). And she got elected as Mayor. Alec who interviews Ms Bustier is also another character who is now full of love and care. And Marinette fought for love. Even the Agreste Mansion Garden is associated to love. Gabriel and Émilie got a scene there during Evolution. Marinette and Adrien got a romantic date there as well. Heck, this is even where Nathalie shares she was ready to help Gabriel out of love.

Love may falter or even fades away for a time, but right now, in Adrien's scenes, love is fully blooming.

Back to the scene, as Marinette and Adrien kiss, the camera zoom out at the shot crossfades, giving the impression their kiss is everlasting. And ultimately fades to white...

... before the white suddenly cut to Nadja Chamack's news report where she interviews Professor Du Bocquale about the international event that had happened.

Using both the news reporter and the scientific, we transitioned to Marinette's Guardian of the Miraculous pov. The sentimentality and dream life is over, it is time to get back to the facts and reality. The Happy Ever After is not quite accomplish yet.

And that will be developped in second eventual part because I am reaching the limit of images allowed in one single Tumblr post ^^;

Anyway, thank you for reading this far and stay tuned!

#miraculous ladybug #ml season 5 #ml s5 spoilers #ml spoilers #ml s5 finale #ml s5 finale spoilers #ml the last day #ml re-creation #ml s5ep26 #ml analysis

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dreadsuitsamus · 12 days

Note

May I request sfw prompt #39 and nsfw prompt #53 for Gohan where he falls in love with the reader after they have a one night stand but she's initially cold to him because she had been hurt in the past?

#39- "why are you scared of loving?"

#53- "you're more than just a one night stand"

author's note: this has been in my inbox since january of 2023 💀 but i have finally found my inspiration to get it done! there's no explicit smut but there are some nsfw mentions. this is also written as a prequel to my story protect!

pairing: gohan x fem!reader

warnings: talks of a past abusive relationship, mentions of reader's ptsd, nsfw mentions

A sigh quells the silence in your room as you dress after a shower. While not at the lowest point in your life, you're still not far from rock bottom. Living with your mother again, only a year and a half removed from that day your ex beat you to a pulp and left with all your money and all of the problems of his absence are still keeping you from flourishing. Ruined credit score from a broken apartment lease, incalculable debt from the hospital bills that your insurance refused to cover, and frequent nightmares of him coming back to finish destroying you into nothing give you constant anxiety and each day is a new struggle.

Safe to say, you haven't really been okay.

You glance at your phone with shame, nervous for when the inevitable text comes from a man that's far too sweet and far too good for you to deserve you skipping out on him in the middle of the night following the mistake of a one night stand. You met Gohan through a friend, and he offered to guide you through ridding yourself of the medical debts and this is what you've done to repay him. Hook up with him and then run for the hills the second he was asleep.

You close your eyes to calm yourself, centering again before the bad feelings of anxiety and depression can come creeping up your spine. Gohan knows about your past, and he's a grown man. Surely one as attractive as him has a few notches on his bedpost and would understand your absence.

But the way he looked at you last night, like you were heaven-sent and perfect has you doubting such an idea. Son Gohan could be a man like that if he wanted, but your heart and your mind alike know that's not who he is. He's a pure, old fashioned good boy. He wouldn't have slept with you if he didn't romantically like you to some extent…

And you certainly wouldn't have slept with him if you didn't want to reciprocate so badly it makes your chest ache with all of the want you harbor. To have a man love you, truly, and treat you as you deserve has been on your mind for years, well before your former boyfriend finally left you. But you had that kind of hope in Tyler, at first. He was kind, he was sweet and attentive… Though it only took moving in together for his true colors to show. Lying, cheating, stealing— That's who your ex was after all.

Your heart can't take that chance again.

You hang your towel on the back of your door, gazing at nothing in particular as you settle onto your bed. For the last few years it's as if you've had so much to plague your mind that you can't think of a single thing. It's strange to feel so empty, just entirely devoid of direction or purpose. You've got yet another set of paperwork to fill out for your medical debt, and then a few job applications as well that hopefully will last longer than a handful of months— all of these places only hiring you on as a temp is a god awful look on your résumé.

Your old laptop awaits, but you can do little more than flop back against your pillows and close your eyes. The war in your mind is something you're used to, but the usual stress on your body is gone.

You bite down on your lip as you remember the way Gohan touched you. The way he lit you up with his lips on yours, how gentle he was with your body and feelings, offering to stop or slow down— even when you were on the cusp of orgasm! He's a perfect sexual partner, and if it wasn't for how damn sweet he is you may have even thought to make it a routine thing.

You drift off to a blissful sleep that's heavy enough for you to miss that dreaded text.

I hope you made it home safely.

Gohan absentmindedly worries his lip between his perfect teeth, typing in a frenzy as he shoots back an email to the hospital that wracked you up with an inhumane amount of debt. He's got plenty to get done today, mostly for his actual job, but he just won't allow himself a moment to make any progress until these firmly-worded emails get the message across: you will not be paying them hundreds of thousands of dollars for fighting for your life!!

The huff he lets out after sending his email doesn't ease the anxiety that's been bubbling in his chest all morning. When you came over last night to work on a résumé, Gohan had absolutely no intention of sleeping with you. You're a woman in a bind and he's here to help, that's all! Disgust crawls over his skin anyway, shame buzzing his insides as he remembers everything that led to your passionate hookup.

You smelled so nice and looked just so damn pretty… He just wanted to sit a little bit closer, that's all. But then you looked up at him (and he'll die on the hill that you batted your lashes at him!) and he was nothing but a fool for you then. He doesn't know who leaned in first or who started what, but he certainly only had the mind to end it after it was too late to stop and he was balls deep.

A shudder wracks Gohan's body as he remembers the feeling of slipping inside of you. Even with a condom on, he could feel the heat and the wetness of your silky walls as they gripped his lonely shaft and sucked him in for as many inches as he had to give. And thank goodness he even had a condom on hand, all thanks to the people fundraising outside of the grocery store that included them in their donation goodie bag!

You were so sweet beneath him, so pliable and warm and perfect. He feels his cock stir in his pants, jumpy at the memory and unfortunately eager to experience such a lovely time again. Alas, you've been through quite a lot, and he shouldn't get his hopes up for anything like that.

You walking out on him last night already dashed his hopes anyway.

It wasn't exactly surprising to wake up alone, though it did sting all the same. You're just so amazing and kind and beautiful… Gohan would have to be a real piece of work not to see how special you are. Only a waste of space like your ex could be blind to everything that you are.

Gohan checks his phone for what feels like the thousandth time, no text message back from you. He's starting to worry now, which isn't good for his nails that he habitually bites when stressed. It'd probably do him well to go for a training session, but he also feels so frazzled as his blood races through his veins that training may not yield any productive results.

He pulls his glasses off and runs his large hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes until he starts seeing stars. Blinking until the room clears, Gohan glances at his phone once again before standing with an indignant huff.

He's fine, all of this is fine. And fretting over nonsense won't make you text him back any faster. You need your space, and he's going to give it to you. No fussing required.

He does go make use of Vegeta's gravity room, though when the Saiyan himself shows up and he's left in the face of a full-blooded, battle-hungry Saiyan, he can't help but think that perhaps he should've stayed home.

At least he's not stuck with Vegeta in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber like Trunks was.

Gohan's text message remains unanswered, haunting you as you cook yourself dinner. You'll have to face him eventually, and soon, but what do you say? 'Thanks for the sex, it was great!'? No! Do you ignore it??

Do you have a choice?

Hooking up again isn't an option. Pursuing something more with him, something romantic and fulfilling, definitely isn't either. He's been a wonderful help to you and for absolutely nothing at all in return; you don't have any extra money to pay him anyway. The kindness of Gohan's heart isn't even something you can repay, not after what you've done to him. A sour feeling crosses your mouth, your appetite fading as your mind races.

He's a good man. Too good for where you're at in life, and there's always some kind of catch with nice guys. It's too risky, all of it. Will he demand more sex for more of his help, now that he's already gotten it once? You need his assistance to whittle down the medical bills— his stubborn insistence with insurance and the hospital itself is astounding, and runs deeper than anyone else you know. Left to your own devices, you'd have given up a long time ago.

He's not like that. The reminder scolds your terrible line of thinking. Gohan would never leverage your quality of life at all, let alone with the ultimatum of sex. He's not your ex, he's not a bad person in the slightest.

But you didn't know your ex was your ex at first either.

Your plate of eggs and toast nearly run cold by the time you've found it in you to send a response. Typing and erasing it several times over, you finally end up with a passable response message over twelve hours since his text to you in the first place.

I'm alright, thank you. Would you mind sending the copy of my résumé? I forgot to download it onto my laptop.

You are such a dick.

But the job applications are just sitting pretty without it right now, and you can't afford not to include the carefully-crafted résumé Gohan spent so much time on. He made it for you, it's literally yours, and the shitty little paycheck you got just a few days ago is already about gone. You're cold, and it'll surely throw him for a loop at minimum, but it's the best way to protect yourself.

"Chase a check, never chase a bitch." You murmur the cold lyric to yourself and bite into your dinner, waiting for Gohan's timely response. He's a busy man with a career of his own, but he always messages you back in mere minutes. He's a great multitasker like that, and you certainly aspire to be as efficient as he is.

Though you begin to doubt things when hours pass and there's no response. Ice slowly frosts your veins with every further minute that Gohan doesn't respond with your résumé; surely there's a good reason? He wouldn't have thrown it out or be the type to withhold it— your friend would never associate themselves with Gohan if he was like that, much less connect the two of you if he were the sort of man to manipulate things in such a way.

But the cold, paranoid dread doesn't let up even in the morning. Your phone has no notifications at all, and you even check the chat to make sure the message is sent. It has, and he's seen it.

Anger bubbling beneath the surface of your chest is overshadowed by the trembling of your bottom lip. How foolish could you be?? If there was ever going to be a hookup, you could've at least waited for your shit to be in order! Now it's all lost and you're on your own again, left to navigate debt that's threatening to swallow you whole and job-hunt in a market that doesn't want you.

Your mother's gone for work already as you begin your routine; your scheduled shift at work is a short one and not for several more hours, but to sit around and do nothing in the meantime will only spell certain doom. If you're given too much time to think, lord only knows what sort of outburst or meltdown you'll have. You're fresh out of the shower and part way through brushing your teeth when the doorbell rings, confusion etched to your features. You're not expecting anyone, though perhaps your mother has a package that needs signing for? Dropping your head, you quickly spit and rinse with mouthwash before jogging to open the door.

On the other side stands a damp man with crooked glasses, a dazed look in his eye and all the anger in you fizzles out. He's here. And the look on your face must scare him with the way his lip nearly trembles when he speaks.

“I am— I— Sorry!” Gohan stumbles over his words and you sigh softly as the trickle of relief siphons through the rest of your body. Gesturing him further in, Gohan slips off his shoes and hands over a folder.

“I got busy with my uncle,” Busy being a bit of an understatement; the moment Vegeta caught Gohan with his phone as he was reading your message and forced him right back into the gravity room for another training binge. “And I went as fast as I could to get this to you. I am so sorry about this.”

Your eyes soften and you carefully wipe a few suds from his hair. “I appreciate it… But you could've finished your shower first.”

Gazing up as if he can see the soap in his hair, Gohan’s cheeks redden as he laughs nervously. “Uh… S-Sorry.”

Reluctantly dropping your hand once you've fixed his glasses, you open the folder to find a physical copy of your résumé alongside a flash drive that presumably has another copy downloaded onto it. “Thank you.”

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Gohan bites his lip. “Um… Can we talk for a second?”

“A-About what?”

Oh no.

“I… Think you have an idea.” Gohan says softly. He can't leave it behind or anything unsaid; one night stands aren't his thing. “Listen… What happened between us was…”

“Sex. It was just sex.” You murmur, setting the folder down on the coffee table. “People have sex all the time… It happens.”

Hurt penetrates Gohan's chest. He knew you were jaded, knows exactly why and he does understand… It doesn't mean it can't hurt him. He likes you, appreciates your mind and admires your strength in a way that may have a bit to do with his Saiyan heritage. “Sure… Other people do that. But I don't. And… And for me, I…”

Tears start to well in your eyes. This man, this wonderful, caring, smart and lovely man is about to cross that line, isn't he? The one that can't be crossed again, the one that's going to end this friendship on a burned bridge and broken hearts. “Gohan, don't—”

“You're more than just a one night stand.” He says it anyway, taking your hands and holding them so warmly, protectively and securely. “To me, you are… Inspiring, and beautiful, and… And someone I really, really like. And that night was so great, and I was on top of the world until I woke up and you were gone.”

“I'm sorry.” You whisper, screwing your eyes shut tightly and ducking your head. You just can't stop messing up, can you? “It's not you, Gohan. You're a great man and there's a woman out there that will make you happy and take care of you.”

“The woman I want is right in front of me.” His hand comes to rest on your cheek, brushing away the salty tears that fall when you meet his gaze.

“Gohan… You don't want this. Do you know why I left that night?”

Gohan’s other hand comes to the other side of your face, cradling you like the daintiest china. “You had your reasons.”

Your hands come to his wrists, not tugging his touch away as you feel his warmth bloom within you, lighting you up in unfamiliar but pleasant ways, encouraging the leap of faith that your hopeful heart cries out for. “Because I get nightmares. Nightmares so bad that my momma has to come and wake me up almost every night and hold me to stop the panic attacks. I'm broken in so many ways Gohan…” Your lip trembles, and Gohan gently swipes his thumb just below the curve of it, mesmerized by every inch of you.

“If you only knew just how much I understand being broken…” Gohan whispers, his “eventful” childhood flashing through his mind from his kidnapping and all the way to his father's most recent death. “Then you would understand me more than anyone, and I’d get to understand you.”

“You don't want this.” You whisper again, and Gohan leans in for the softest, warmest kiss to your forehead. It clears the rain, just a bit, and you lean into it.

“Why are you so scared of loving me?” Gohan murmurs against your skin. “You've never said you don't want it… Me. Just that I won't want you, like you're a used car or something.”

You come to hide your face in his chest and he wraps you up tightly, his strong body anchoring you from your fears. “I'm afraid to get hurt again. When you didn't answer my message, I thought the worst of you! That you were some asshole that was only gonna help me if I kept sleeping with you! All because you didn't text me back. That's just the tip of the iceberg, Gohan!”

“Honey…” Gohan whispers, swaying gently as he holds you, one arm wrapped tightly around your middle while his other hand rests at the back of your head. “You’d know my heart if you knew your place. So come find yourself… I'll wait for you.”

The fog breaks, and your smile is brighter than a thousand suns and Gohan has never seen anything more breathtaking.

#son gohan x reader #son gohan x you #gohan x reader #gohan x you #dbz imagine #dbs imagine #fic #x reader #reader insert

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