#like he is aware of how deep the fall could be

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part VI

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Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

Simon Riley is, like any other man who has been in the military for long enough and seen the horrors of war, a man who struggles. Struggles with feelings, actions, words, nightmares. The constant reminder that his career—the very same thing that made him grow a pair and go from a scared little boy to a proper lad—was what ultimately cut his family’s life short, weighed heavy on his shoulders, holding him down like Atlas holding the sky. 

Despite how much he tried to hide his own feelings from both you and himself, that icy gaze that seemed to be focused on nothing for hours and the lingering silence, along with the tired smiles he forced himself to give you no matter how awful his nightmares were the night before made it clear things were only getting worse.

Whatever was out there was oftentimes merciful enough to give him good dreams every once in a while, his psyche drowned in a sea of what the future could have been. A future with his family, a future with you. No matter how difficult things got in the black, buzzing mess that was his head, he saw his daughter and you like a beacon, a Star of Bethlehem during those dark, cold nights. 

The sound of stirring bed sheets is what originally wakes you up, the smell of tobacco and gunpowder that always linger on Simon’s body overwhelms your senses the longer you’re awake, slowly coming back to your senses. A groan, and more shifting from your left. 

“Simon.” Your voice is soft and even, hands feeling around the bed sheets until you find his shaking body. In the past, Simon used to sleep on the couch, refusing to go back to his apartment just so he could spend more time with you and your daughter, yet after Johnny’s death, the pain and trauma was always clear in his eyes, ending up with you offering to let him sleep in the same bed. 

Simon’s body feels extremely warm, a thin layer of sweat covering his burly frame, seeping through his clothes and into your fingers as you shake him harder, the room dimly lit with the bright moonlight peering from the window. You can see his features scrunching up, his hands balled into fists, the veins in his neck and forehead becoming more prominent as he relives what is likely yet another traumatic moment in his life. 

“Simon.” You repeat with more urgency this time, your body shifting closer to his in order to shake him firmly, watching as his eyes flew open, dilated pupils looking around the room before meeting your gaze, a mask of deception quickly taking over his visage as you see him force himself to appear more relaxed despite the fast-drumming of his pulse you can still feel beneath your fingers, his chest rising and falling, nostrils flaring as he forces himself to take a deep breath.

“Did I wake you up?” Despite how awful his nightmares were, Simon’s priority was always you. His kindness isn’t just fake sympathy, it’s the real thing. 

“No, I was reading something.” A little white lie that at the very least eased his concerns. Your hand squeezes the tense mass of muscle on his shoulder with such gentleness that he wasn’t used to, not after a year of being alone after breaking up with you. 

The corners of his lips tug up into a tight-lipped, tired smile, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly, trying to hold it together for your sake. His eyes examine yours for any hints of disgust, any hints that you may have seen just how disgusting he could be during those nightmares, his mind still fragmented thanks to Roba’s torture, never seeming to heal no matter how many years go by. 

Your fingers work overtime on trying to ease the knots formed on his muscles from the strain it takes to hold it together when you’re looking at him with so much trust and concern, not an ounce of disgust in you despite how ashamed he feels. His eyes momentarily drift away from you, focusing on the baby monitor, the tiny screen displaying your sleeping daughter, the living image of innocence, serving as a soothing balm for his broken soul. 

“Bad dream?” How lucky he is, that even crushed under the weight of looming grief and enough trauma to last him several lifetimes, he has someone to care about him, to care for him. His exhausted eyes leave the baby monitor, staring up at the ceiling as he finally allows himself the chance to take in your tender touch, the genuine kindness showing through your soft massage and concern, no matter how much of a bastard he was for leaving you. 

“Yeah.” You know better than to press him about it, too familiar with him to know if he wants to talk about his issues, he will. You lean closer to him, your head now resting on his pillow and your arm draped over his stomach, your body moving on nothing but pure muscle memory from four years of dating him. 

From this short distance, you’re able to admire the man that Simon Riley truly is. His short brown hair, the thin, pale scars adorning his visage, and the wrinkles that are starting to become more prominent as he ages, war and stress making him appear older than he actually is, yet looking as handsome as ever. His rough, calloused hand goes up to hold yours, fingers intertwining with the same muscle memory your body performed. 

It has been months since Simon came back into your life, the knowledge of the fact that he now has a daughter always made him stick around, not wanting to miss a single moment from the tiny bundle of joy that seems to adore him, a brave little girl who was as spunky as her mother, and as stubborn as her father. 

“‘Bout Roba, again.” He finally admits after seconds of silence. Manuel Roba, a name you’re unfortunately familiar with. The same man who tortured Simon and his mates for months on end, allowing him to escape and to feel a sense of false security, giving him the chance to have a proper family for once with his father out of the picture, just to rip everything that held him together from his hands. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” His head shakes, signaling a no. The pads of your fingers run over his bruised knuckles in a calming fashion, tracing tiny, random patterns before his free arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest now that he’s laying on his side. There’s hesitation in his actions, yet his soul is filled with relief the moment you let go of his hand, just to circle his waist with one of your arms. 

“‘M sorry.” He’s not even sure what he’s apologizing for. There’s way too many things he needs to atone for, and he will be as patient as they come. 

“I’m sorry for leavin’. I was scared, didn’t want to mess you up.” He knows his absence did the opposite, and the idea of you giving birth without him present always shattered his soul. If only he had known about your pregnancy, he wouldn’t have broken up with you, never would have left. 

His chapped lips plant a comforting lip on your forehead, his warm hands running up and down your back, looking to soothe you as he can hear your breath hitch, salty tears already rimming your eyes. Your face is buried against his chest, lightly feeling his fast-beating heart as he holds you even closer, his eyes fluttering shut at finally having you in his arms again. 

“I missed you.” The shakiness in your voice breaks his heart even further, his soul being ripped apart by his own selfish, awful decisions. 

“I missed you too, sweet girl.” He manages to whisper out despite the way he’s getting choked up, his arms circling your form even more when your shoulders begin to shake. Warm, salty tears bleed through his clothes as he holds you as close as possible, squeezing your frame even tighter before he’s back to rubbing your back up and down, looking into spreading the warmth emanating from his large frame. 

“So fuckin’ much.” Another gentle kiss is planted on your forehead, holding you for as long as you need— for as long as he needs, too. You both lose track of time, simply caressing and giving each other much needed comfort, bringing you back to the ways you comforted each other back when you were dating after an awful day, all the crying and warmth coming from his body eventually exhausting you, idly playing with the fabric of his black shirt. 

“Can I…” There’s clear doubt in his words, and despite the fact that his exhaustion matches yours, there’s one last thing he wants to do. You lift your head, brown eyes meeting your gaze. You could drown in those eyes— in the way they always seem so loving and kind, so gentle despite how brutal you know he can be as a soldier… and yet that’s Ghost, not Simon, you remind yourself. 

His hand comes up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, ultimately pushing himself to cup your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing your soft, warm skin, still moistened by tears. You get the message almost instantly, yet admiring Simon when he looks so unsure of himself steals your attention for once. 

A small nod of affirmation meets his words, and Simon doesn’t waste any time, leaning down until his forehead rests against yours for a few seconds before his lips meet yours in a soft, tender kiss, the hand on your cheek caressing your skin gently, his eyes fluttering shut.

[PREVIOUS]

taglist: @skulfan1 @survivalshxt @ghostslittlegf@yaebaal @thecubanator2 @juliediets @shescabob @kenz-ee @lothiriel9 @dragonstoneshortcake @lunamoonbby @alfie2401 @perfectus-in-morte @mxtokko @cloufie @killergoddess97 @imaracoon @thepurpleaccount @silas-222 @actuallyhiswife @havoc973 @catkatchuck @preeyansha @oreo-cream @vihckg @i-feel-violated @yourdaydreamerfan @kazumiyax @1dead-bunny1 @mcntsee @kodiackwrites @boredfrenchbread @ssc7514 @flameohotpotatooo @aylitgirl @darkangel4121 @blueberrykushlovexoxo-blog

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #mw2 ghost #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x f!reader #ghost x female reader #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #mw2 fanfic #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod #call of duty mw2 #mw2 #call of duty mw3 #cod mw3 #mw3 #modern warfare 3

[heejake-hoon]

Warning: mdni, overstimulation, dumbification, creampie, dirty talk...

"Awww my little cumdump, are u having fun?" Sunghoon faux cooed at ur shaking state as you were bonded to the bed frame both ur hands and legs spread open with a wand vibrator pressed securely on ur clit, it has been more than 2 hours of torture, with you cuming and cuming again u weren't sure if ur body could take it any more, drool and tears dropping messily on ur face you wanted to beg him to stop, wanted to tell him to free you, but you weren't even able to say that, so fucked up from all the orgasms he forced out of u with his toy.

"Hmmmm? Baby did I leave you dumb? Can't even answer me? What a useless fuckdoll." You wanted to cry, the humiliation making your skin heat up even more. "It's okay my little slut, don't worry about it. You don't have to do anything, I am going to take care of you. Your just gonna be a good girl and let me do as I please, yeah?" Sunghoon smirked as he turned off the toy making you sigh in relief, you weren't sure if you could take another one of his games, not after this one. He unbound u, letting u fall flat on the bed as he got up from the chair where he was sitting comfortably the entire time."Hoonie... no more." you croaked out, voice raspy from all the screaming, the only thing on your mind was sleep."You want me to stop? Okay then. I won't do anything." Sunghoon shrugged, you sighed in relief thinking he finally got bored of teasing u.But oh how wrong you were.Sunghoon grabbed your hips, lifting them up so your ass was up in the air. You were too tired to even lift your head up and see what he was doing, just sighing happily as his hands caressed ur lower back, kneading ur flesh.

Then the sound of a cap opening was heard and you realized what was about to happen, making you jerk and try to wiggle away.

"Shhhh, don't move, my princess. Be a good girl and let me fill that pretty little cunt up." You were too tired, too sensitive, you couldn't take him inside u. "Sunghoon, wait no-" you cried out, trying to get away from his hold.

"What was that? Did you just tell me no?" Sunghoon's tone suddenly turned ice cold and you whimpered at that, realizing your mistake."No, no. I- I'm sorry. I was just- no. I'm a good girl, I'm a good girl for hoonie." you mumbled, words almost unintelligible. "Mmmmm, that's right, you're my good girl. Always so sweet and obedient for me. My perfect doll." You sighed happily, glad that you could please him.

Then the next second you were crying out as you felt him plunging deep inside you."Hoonie! It-it hurts!" you tried to get away, but his hands were like iron on your hips.

"Aw baby, does it hurt? But you were begging me to fill u up earlier." You gasped at that. You did? When did you say that? You weren't even aware of that "H-how..." you whispered, confusion evident on ur face. "That's when I knew you were ready. Your body knows what it needs, and you're just too dumb to realize it. So I helped you out." Sunghoon smirked as he thrust deep inside you, making you whimper in pain and pleasure "Ah-h! S-sunghoon. It's-it's too much!"

"You're taking it so well baby. My pretty little slut." The soft kisses he gave you were contradicting so much from how hard he was pounfing you, sending you over the edge once again. "Hoonie- I, ah! Ah! Hoonie!" You couldn't even form proper sentences as he hit your g-spot with every thrust. "Come on, cum for me again, my little princess. You know how much I love your tight pussy clenching around my cock."His filthy words and his rough thrusts were all it took for you to cum, vision turning white as your body spasmed.

Sunghoon followed shortly after, pumping you full of his warm seed, filling you up so nicely, and you moaned at the feeling "So perfect. My perfect baby." He cooed, peppering your face with kisses and you smiled lazily at that.

#sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader

[ashwhowrites]

Hiiii I’m the anon that sent this: Reader gets broken up with by a guy that she actually really liked but in reality this guy was a douchy football player that was rude to her friends (but she didn’t know about that.)

It was meant to be a request if you’d wanna write it!

And id say that Eddie does have a crush on reader.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

The friend

Y/N waited years and years to fall in love. She grew up watching princesses find their prince, and she wanted to feel that. She wanted to feel loved by someone who chose to, someone who looked at her and would do anything to be with her. Even if he had to fight everyone to do it. She wanted to see what it felt like to be cared about.

To her, Greg did just that. She was smitten with the jockey football player the second he sent her a dazzling smile during a game. It was like his eyes found hers in the crowd, it was fate.

It didn't take long for him to ask her out and for her to say yes immediately. She was swept off her feet and never landed. He was sweet and romantic. He showered her in love and compliments. She thought he was perfect all around.

Eddie and her friends had other thoughts. Greg was two-faced but Y/N wasn't aware of that. Chrissy hated Greg, and she hated cheering for someone like him. He was selfish, cocky, and an ass. It took a lot for Chrissy to dislike someone, and she hated Greg, that meant something.

Eddie had two reasons to hate Greg. One reason was that Greg never had nice things to say to or about Eddie. Greg believed he was trailer dirt and a freak, just like everyone else. But Y/N didn't know that. The second reason was that Eddie was helplessly in love with Y/N.

Did he have the chance to go for it? Definitely but he was terrified. It was scary enough to tell a girl he liked her, but to tell his best friend? He wasn't sure he could handle the rejection.

Eddie and Chrissy grew closer over their dislike for Greg. Chrissy knew Eddie was in love with their best friend before Eddie realized it. Chrissy never understood how Y/N didn't catch on. Eddie was in no way good at hiding it. He stuttered over sentences, clumsier than ever, smiled the second she looked at him, and he'd do anything she asked.

Once Eddie saw her with Greg, he believed that was his sign that they would never be anything more. Eddie and Greg were two completely different people.

When the news broke out that Y/N and Greg broke up after almost a year together, many people had things to say. But no one would say it to her. Eddie felt relieved that his year of suffering was over. But he knew it was a matter of time before some new guy came along. He wasn't sure he could let that happen.

~~~

"I don't understand why he broke up with me," Y/N sobbed. Her head was in Eddie's chest as she soaked his band tee in her tears.

Eddie softly held her in his arms. His chin was on her head as his fingers ran through her hair.

"I don't either, babes." And he was honest. He couldn't imagine ever breaking up with her. She was easily the best person anyone could be with.

"Do you think it's because I'm not pretty enough?" She sniffled, her head facing him as she pulled back away, letting him search her face for the flaws she believed she had.

Eddie smiled and cleaned off her tears with his thumbs. Her red puffy eyes, wet cheeks, and trembling bottom lip. He couldn't lie to her.

"No. I think even right now you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Eddie was dead serious. A sense of truth in his eyes as he barely blinked. His voice was deep and low, with no sounds of jokes.

The intensity in his face made her nervous and shy. She dug her head back into his warm chest as she held him tighter.

"He's the idiot who let you go."

~~~

Eddie was patient as his best friend recovered from the breakup. Chrissy and Eddie high-fived behind her back, sharing smiles and looks.

"I heard you and Greg broke up! Congratulations that guy was a di-" Dustin's voice was cut off, replaced with a groan.

Y/N turned around confused, Eddie standing next to Dustin with a smile. Dustin held his arm with a whimper.

"Congratulations? What does that mean?" Y/N pushed further.

Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other, trying to think of a fast lie.

"I know someone who likes you! It's a congrats to him!" Dustin said with a smile as he covered his lie. He looked to Eddie for approval and his smile dropped at the look on his face.

"Who?" Y/N perked up. For once, after a long week of crying, she smiled.

"That's not his place to tell. Why don't we go to lunch?" Eddie said, grabbing Dustin's arm and dragging him down the hall.

"That was weird," Y/N said as she turned to Chrissy.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Y/N asked. Chrissy stood with a huge cheesy grin.

Chrissy snapped out of her daydream of Eddie and Y/N finally together. Quick with a lie.

"It's good to see you smile again, now let's go eat."

~~~

Another week passed. Two weeks since her heart was shattered but she could feel herself healing. She had to thank Eddie for all of it. He was always there, holding her as she cried and talking her through everything.

Her mind was still thinking about who Dustin was talking about. The idea of a guy liking her made her feel less insecure. Maybe Greg was the problem and not her. She drew blanks as she tried to think who it was.

She hoped it was Eddie, but that felt like throwing wishes in an empty fountain. She was nowhere Eddie's type. She wasn't edgy enough or listened to the same music he did. She barely understood Hellfire and his ideas. He wasn't much of her type either, but there was something about him that she would never find anywhere else. He was one of a kind and she figured that's why she fell for him so hard.

Eddie never made moves, so she figured he didn't like her. That's why she had no problem going out with Greg. She thought maybe if Eddie showed jealousy, she'd have her answer. But he was just the same, nothing changed.

She was staring at the wall as Eddie woke up from his sleep. His tired eyes took her in. He had his arms around her already, he pressed his chest against her back tighter. She felt her body get warm as his arms squeezed her against him and his face snuggled into her neck. The soft breaths of his nose hitting her skin, his warm body against hers. Do all best friends cuddle in the same bed?

"How long have you been awake?" His deep and tired voice made her bite her lip. She wiggled in his arms, he loosened them as she turned around to face him. She kept herself in his arms, snuggling closer until she was nose to nose-with him.

"I never fell asleep," she whispered

The moon shined into the room, reminding her she had been trying to sleep for hours.

"How come?" He asked, his palm flat against her back as he softly rubbed the bare skin as her tank top slid up. She shivered as his hands touched her skin.

"A lot on my mind," she said truthfully. She admired his eyes. No matter how many times she looked into them, the brown continued to take her breath away. She took in the rest of his face. The bridge of his nose, the red lips she craved to taste. The slight hair growing above his lip, she knew he'd shave in the morning, but she loved being the only one who got to see it. His frizzy hair spread out on her pillows.

"Greg?" Eddie asked, admiring her face the same way she was with his.

"No," Y/N said, "about who that guy is Dustin brought up." She nervously bit her lip as she watched Eddie's reaction.

"Oh, how come?" Eddie asked, he hid his nervousness with a yawn

"Do you know who it is?"

"Uh no," Eddie said his eyes looking elsewhere

"Then why are you looking away?" Y/N smiled, she poked his cheek

He nervously laughed

"I don't know who he is," Eddie said, looking into her eyes as he finished the sentence.

"Such a bad liar! tell me," she squealed excitedly. He groaned as she left his arms. Sitting up, she looked down at him.

"Why do you want to know so bad? Are you ready to move on?" Eddie asked, maybe this was an opening.

"I don't know. Feels nice to know someone else likes me. And depending on who it is, I think I'm ready to give it a shot." She shrugged

"I can't say who it is, but I'll give you some hints." Y/N smiled as Eddie sat up.

"He has dark hair and dark eyes, he admires your beauty. He likes how smart and creative you are. He loves it when you laugh, it makes his heart race. He smiles whenever he thinks of you. And he's been dealing with these feelings for years." Eddie said, too lost in his confession that he was scared he gave too much away.

"So you are close friends with him?" Y/N asked, she turned her head in confusion. She would not believe that any of Eddie's friends had a crush on her.

"I think I said too much," Eddie chuckled nervously and laid back down. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes. "Let's go back to sleep."

Y/N thought in silence for a few seconds. She thought long and hard about what he said. The guy he described matched his appearance. Eddie always complimented her looks and laughed at all her jokes. He seemed nervous to talk about the guy, scared he said too much, which meant he was worried she would find it out. He dragged Dustin away when he brought it up, which told her he was worried Dustin would spill the beans.

"Y/N?" Eddie asked, cracking open one eye

It was Eddie

Eddie had a crush on her!

"Y/N" Eddie said again, both eyes open as he went to sit up

But Y/N pushed his body right back down as her lips smashed on his. Eddie's eyes widened in shock as her lips moved against his. Her hands were on his shoulders as she leaned down.

After his shock, he kissed her back. His hands reached up and held her hips. Their kiss grew deeper as Y/N straddled his lap. He sat up, lips still attached to hers. He moved on hand up to her head and pushed her head further into the kiss.

Y/N felt every part of her body light up with electricity. Her hands moved into his hair. Something she spent years wanting to do. His lips tasted better than she imagined. He was soft but controlling. It made her head spin.

Eddie pulled away, his eyes heavy in lust.

"That was...wow." Eddie breathed out, he blinked a thousand times. Believing if he blinked hard enough, this moment would vanish. But to his luck and prayers, she was still on his lap.

"You are the friend," she said, breathy as she still waited for air to return to her lungs

"Uh yeah," Eddie nodded

"Thank god," she smiled before her lips smashed into his again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites

[rainychaoloveshack]

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐁𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐲. 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

you can’t fall asleep, so Shadow tries to help.

content. shadow x gn!reader, implied insomnia (reader), sickening amount of fluff (especially towards the end), mentions of shadows past and reader being upset about it

☂︎ wc. 1.2k ☂︎ a/n. second post obviously has to be shadow, yeah? might as well make my next one silver and then scourge, but i dunno. totally gonna reuse this idea for him in a way, i think it’s super sweet. <3 maybe a version where you two AREN"TTT really in a relationship yet? secret mutual pining murhehehehe

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!!

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊   .   ┊   ┊

┊    ┊⋆     ┊   .

┊    ┊       ⋆˚              

✧. ┊         

⋆｡˚ 🌨 ˚｡⋆｡🌩˚☽˚｡⋆ 

☂

“You’re still awake?” Shadow murmurs, his footsteps causing the wooden floor to creak under him, emerging from his room with a small rub of his ear,  watching you as you take a small glass cup from the cupboard, open the fridge slightly to take out the water pitcher, and then pour yourself a drink.

You could say the same thing for him, but you might’ve just woken him up from the noise of you making your way to the kitchen. He’s never been the deepest sleeper. Always alert.

“Why’re you awake this late?” He comes over to where you’re standing, brushing against you as he urges you back to your room with a hand set right on your waist. His gloves are off, yet his inhibitor rings remain, a soft reminder in the back of your head. “Did something happen? A nightmare?”

You shake your head, taking a sip of water before making it clear to him you just had trouble falling asleep. Best not to tell him it’s been going on for more than just tonight, for a while now actually, but knowing him, he might already be aware of that fact. You never like to worry him too much. No matter how much he likes to hide it, he really does care about you. Sometimes the concern is a little much, but it’s just his own way of showing love, so it’s never bothered you.

His brows furrow as he glances at the digital clock set on the microwave, a clear 03:14 set right there for both of you to see. His eyes flick back to you, letting a small sigh leave his lips.

“Do you need me to keep you company?” He mutters, his tone seeming almost agitated, yet his body language saying just the opposite as his hand falls loosely to your hips, then drops to his side.

You shake your head with a firm refusal; you don’t want to bother him with your little issue tonight. You’ll fall asleep eventually; you always do. But Shadow doesn’t seem swayed by your refusal.

He grumbles, crossing his arms as he leans against the fridge, looking at you with that stoic expression he usually has. “So what’re you going to do then? I assume you’ve been up for hours.” No point in denying that. You nod softly, and his frown deepens with your confirmation. “See? Don’t be so dumb.”

Dumb?

Shadow’s face softens quickly, noticing the mistake in his words. It wasn’t anything too serious, yet it still bugged you in an odd way, making you cross an arm over your stomach and make a small circular motion with the cup in your other hand, the water sloshing around inside, filling the silence between you two.

Shadow grunts, clearly displeased at the sudden silence, yet understanding his mistake, and he shakes his head while looking at you, his ears flicking downward slightly with an apologetic expression on his face.

… You’ll take his apology just like that for tonight. It wasn’t like he called you a ‘dumbass’ or anything; nor did he really mean to insult you.

“Hmph.”  He huffs, his gaze trailing down at the floor for a moment as you take a few more sips of your water, letting the coolness run down your throat. His finger taps impatiently on his arm, clearly deep in thought, before his voice rings out again to you.

“Do you think sleeping with someone else would help?” Someone else? You peek over at him, tilting your head. Does he know that he can just say himself instead of that? He probably does.

Shadow turns, not meeting your gaze, and glancing towards the window at the far end of the room, noticing the moonlight shining through. Is he a bit embarrassed? Even after both of you have been together for this long?

Some things never change. Not that you mind it when it comes to Shadow. The only reason why you two still sleep separately is because you thought it would be nice to give him some privacy at times. Maybe another moving day would be in order; you'll ask him about it tomorrow.

You purse your lips to fight back the giggle sending itself up your throat, but you nod softly. His warmth would be nice tonight. As long as a quill doesn’t prick you or anything, but he’s usually so careful with you that it rarely happens at all.

“... Come on.” Shadow runs the back of his fingers against your arm, gesturing for you to put the cup down and come to bed with him, almost as if he’s pleading for you to do so.

And who are you to refuse?

Your hand drags up his wrist slowly, bumping over his inhibitor ring and feeling the fur on his palm, also at the base of his fingertips, then intertwining your fingers with his, closing your eyes, and snuggling your head closer to his chest. His heartbeats so calm, pattering right against your head.

Shadow was never one to be so physically affectionate with you, and if you weren’t so tired, the night calling your name, you would’ve teased him lightly about the gesture. But it’s not like you’re going to complain either.

Not that he didn’t want to give it to you, or that he disliked it entirely. It just wasn’t his main form of showing his love for you. He can accept a hug sometimes, but being so touchy too often made him feel awkward. It feels better when Shadow’s comfortable enough to give such acts of affection to you.

“I’ll be with you until you fall asleep.” He says quietly, the weight of the bed shifting ever so slightly as his other hand rises off the bed, hesitating in the air before he settles it right on your head, petting you softly. “Wake me up if anything.” A soft sigh leaves his lips, followed by a grumble you can feel from deep within his chest as his body relaxes under the weight of you, clutching your fingers tighter with his own. “I’ll be here.”

Your wrist brushes against his inhibitor ring, your brows furrowing and eyes squeezing tighter as you're reminded of his past struggles and pain. It sucks that he had to go through so much before you two met. It hurts. How many times have you cried over him in private, his own aching and sorrow spreading to you? He caught sobbing you once, telling you not to worry about it repeatedly as he wiped your flowing tears away. But how can you not?

Shadow notices you tense up under him, his heartbeat quickening just the tiniest bit at your sudden discomfort. “What's wrong?” He mumbles, but you brush off his concern and just sigh against him, murmuring a soft sweet nothing as you tilt your head up to press a kiss on his lips briefly, saying nothing else as you lie back down against his chest. What is there to say, really? ‘I’m sorry for your terrible past’? It would just be a reminder; one he doesn’t need tonight, or ever.

Shadow says nothing else at your display of affection, but responds physically with a soft peck of his own, right on your head. Oh, how much more lucky can you get tonight? You try to hold back the smile forming on your face, but it's pointless to try to hide your joy.

While your relationship with him might not be cuddles and roses all the time, you wouldn’t want anything else from him. You don’t. He already makes you feel like the world.

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

#possibly ooc #yeah its my first time writing shadow too im sorry :( #i wrote this one quick next time I'll do better I swear </3 #the idea of soft shadow makes me weak in the knees #shadow the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #shadow the hedgehog #shadows past makes me so sad :( #sonic fluff #sonic #sth #this post was fast lol i had already finished this one last night

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 13

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Friday)

Masterlist

“They have a sex tape.”

“They have what?”

“A sex tape” Mason repeated.

“Yours?”

“Obviously” he laughed.

“I’m sorry, I… I… How? When?” Adele asked.

“Why don’t we sit down and I explain everything?”

“Yes, sure.”

“Ok” Mason said, taking a deep breath. “Where should I begin?”

“From the beginning?” she chuckled.

“Yes, of course. It was… it happened during my 21st birthday. I don’t know if you remember, but I was working in the US. I had spent some time in New York, and for my birthday I was in Los Angeles.”

“Oh, I do. I remember seeing all the photos on Instagram while laying on my couch feeling like shit because of a cold. You sent me chocolate macaroons to make me feel better.”

“I wish I had been taking care of you and eating them instead of… Anyway” he sighed. “My friends threw a big party to celebrate because 21 is a big number in the US since you are finally allowed to legally drink and all that, and they invited many people, most of them girls. By the end of the night I was very drunk, and I’m pretty sure I had hooked up with a few girls already. But then, I saw her. She was stunning, and when she came to talk to me, I just couldn’t say no. She was… hypnotizing. Hypnotizing and a bitch” Mason chuckled. “Instead of going to one of the rooms of the house where we were throwing the party, she took me to her hotel room. I think she said she was visiting from Florida, I can’t remember. And then… well, you can imagine what we did. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. She had only left a note behind saying that I should pay for her room before leaving if I didn't want to get in trouble.”

“Oh, how nice.”

“Yeah… A couple of weeks later, my agency called me. Someone was trying to sell some compromising photos from my birthday. They were just me being very drunk, nothing that you hadn’t seen before, but I had just gotten my first big contract, was starting to make a name for myself and being recognized because of me and not because I was Toni Mount’s son, and they didn’t want them to jeopardize everything we had been working so hard for.”

“Look at them being nice for once…” Adele said. “How did they get the video?”

“Whoever was trying to sell the photos wasn’t happy that we had managed to stop them, so they tried with something more juicy. My agency had to ask for many favours and pay a good amount of money to stop the press from publishing it.”

“That juicy is it? Wait, sorry, I…” Adele said, feeling her cheeks burning.

“You can see me completely naked while she gives me… and then she…”

“I can imagine, there is no need to get into details” she interrupted him, her face about to burst into flames. “So your agency paid for the video?”

“Yes.”

“Do they know who was trying to sell it? Was it her?”

“It was her, that bitch had planned it all. Somehow she had found out that there would be famous people at the party and went looking for a victim who would allow her to earn some easy money and maybe become famous. When she took me to the hotel, the camera was already there, ready to film everything we were about to do. I was so stupid…”

“Mason, it wasn’t your fault. How could you have known it was all a trap? Besides, you were drunk. You are lucky you remember all the details you do.”

“I know but… Anyway. That’s what my agency has against me. They say I owe them. Big time. And if I don’t do as they ask, they will release that video and the photos and end my career.”

“That’s blackmail, Mason. You could report that to the police.”

“And the moment they find out, they will release the video and everything will be over” he sighed, letting himself fall on the bed. 

“You don’t know that, Mase. People these days are very aware of what a video like that means. It is a violation of your intimacy. I’m sure your fans would do everything in their power so it doesn’t get shared everywhere, it has happened before. You are so lucky you are a man…”

“But what about the brands I work with? About the designers? What will they think?”

“If a sex tape makes them stop working with you when they keep doing it with people who have done worse, it probably is for the best” Adele shrugged.

“And you? What about you?” Mason asked, sitting up again. 

“What about me?”

“What do you think about me?”

“Can I be completely honest?”

“Please” he said.

“I think you are an idiot.”

“What?”

“Not because of the video. Again, that isn’t your fault, you are the victim here. Double victim if we add what your agency is doing. You are an idiot because you thought I would look at you differently or stop caring about you because of it.”

“But Addie… It’s a sex tape.”

“And?” she laughed. 

“Aren't you like… shocked? Scandalized? Outraged?"

"The only thing I am is angry at that bitch and at your agency. She used you and filmed you without your consent, and they are blackmailing you."

"So if I had known she was filming and had agreed to it… you would not mind?"

“Can I confess something?” Adele said, biting her lower lip.

“It can’t be worse than what I just confessed” he chuckled.

“Remember Ben, my last ex?”

“I do. Why?”

“Well… We liked to take photos or film ourselves from time to time to spice things up.”

“Adele Antonia Turlington!” Mason laughed. 

“You can’t tell anyone. Anyone, you hear me?”

“I won’t, I won’t. But wow. I didn’t expect that from you” he chuckled.

“I’m full of surprises“ she smiled, still not believing she had confessed something like that to Mason. “And here is another one… I will walk that red carpet with you.”

“Wait, what? Are you sure?”

“No, not really. But until we find a way to get rid of your agency, I’m gonna do everything in my power to help you and protect you. And if that means posing in front of a bunch of photographers, then so be it.”

“Addie, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“A thank you will be enough for now.”

“Ok, thank you” he smiled. And this time, it was one of his smiles, one of those that was all dimples. “I love you, Addie.”

“I love you too, Mase” she said as she hugged him, trying not to think too much about the three words they had just said to each other.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

[faghubby]

Fishing trip

I was looking forward to this trip for months. The four of us had rented this cabin. Well not sure you can call it a cabin. Four bedroom two floor, huge porch, balcony over looking a pool. Set on a hill over looking a lake. We had use of a fishing boat. And ATVs not to mention the streams and river near by. The weather was going to be perfect. I was packed and set to leave. When tragedy struck. The deal I had been working on, my huge bonus to close the deal. Went sideways I could fix this but it meant a trip to Cincinnati.

I called Walt, Pete and George and broke the news. Maybe I could meet them later in the week. After some teasing on how at least I wouldn't scare the fish they all understood and hoped to meet me there.

Phoebe , my wife of 15 years. drove me to the airport the next morning, she had already planned on me being away. Where I went didn't really matter. I was kinda complaining about missing the trip the money already spent.

"Maybe I will go so it's not a waste" Phoebe told me. She hated fishing.

"And do what?" I said knowing she was just trying to make me feel better.

"Sit by the pool, kyack, walks in the wood" she told me. As I kissed her goodbye. My flight being called.

"Go then have fun with three guys who smell like fish" I said jokingly.

"Okay I will" she told me in defiance of my joking. I didn't think about it again. Till I had already landed met with the clients lawyers and checked into my hotel. When I read a text.

"Cells are spotty at the lake, George is driving me" the text read as she showed me a pic of her loading her stuff in his SUV. I called her they where still on the road.

"Hello sweety, you're on speaker " she sang.

"You really are going fishing" I laughed.

"She promised to cook, buddy" I heard Walt say. They where driving up together. Pete was going to meet them there. After a brief conversation of their plans she took me off speaker.

"Hurry up if you can, miss you already" Pheobe told me and hung up.

I spent the next three days talking them out of walking away from the contract. And two more writing changes to a new one.

Phoebe

We arrived at the cabin after midnight. I was still wide awake from too much coffee or general curiosity. Went exploring. The guys gave me the master bedroom saying I should have the private bathroom. I went to shower and couldn't figure out how the shower worked. It was one of those showers with all kinds of different showerheads. I went to the bedroom door.

"Hey guys, can someone help me" I called out Walt appeared.

"Um I can't figure out the shower" I said fully aware I stood in front of him in nothing but a towel. Walt ever the perfect gentleman. Went to investigate. He gave me a quick explanation. But as he went to leave he paused for a brief moment. It was nothing.

"What?" I asked.

"Sorry never knew you had a tattoo" he said excusing himself.

"OH, here it goes up" I raised my towel to show him the tattoo on my thigh of a dragon and unicorn some thought they where locked in an epic battle. I thought of it as both sides of my personality. But as I did my towel slipped and exposed my breasts.

"Sorry, I should" Walt said. I grabbed his shoulder to steady myself as I grasped the towel. He took it differently. He turned and pulled me into his arms. I should of pushed him away. I wanted to.

But I looked up into his deep brown eyes, he was a very handsome man. White hair sprinkled in his beard. Contrast to his ebony bald head. His body hard from a life time of hard work. He stood alot taller then Paul. I let the towel fall. His huge hands grasped my breasts. My c cups still not big enough to fill them. He kissed me. Then stopped

"Nothing has happened yet" he told me. I jumped into his arms and he carried me to the bed. I watched as he shed his clothes. His cock. My God I had never. It jutted out from his body, Paul's always pointed up. But I think the sheer size of Walt didn't allow that. He must be twice my husband I thought. As he climbed on top of me.

"Go slow, you are so much bigger" I pleaded. Despite his strength he was gentle and carresed my body. He didn't fuck me he made love to me. I came twice. Loudly as he did. We laid there in the afterglow. I admired his tattoos.

"I love my husband" I shared.

"Paul is great. Let's just call this a fling" he told me. As he held me tight I fell asleep. I woke and took that shower finally. It was already 10am the guys where gone. I figured out early.

I put on a bikini and laid out by the pool. It was mid afternoon, when I put down my book. Romance smut I thought after reading a well description of sex. I thought about Walt. I was alone the sun warming me. My fingers slid under my suit and I was soon rubbing my clit. Suddenly I opened my eyes to see Pete standing there watching me.

"Pete, I " I turned beet red. He sat at my feet. He rubbed my feet

"Don't stop on my account" he smiled. I couldn't I mean I had fucked Walt last night. I thought back to a time in collage when I had allowed 5 guys to gang bangs me. I pulled my bottom down exposing myself and started to masterbate. I felt Pete kiss my thigh higher and higher. Soon he pulled off my bikini and was sucking my clit. I wanted him I pulled his hair pulling him on top of me. He smelled of sweat and push. As I tried to tear his clothes off of him. Pete took his time. He liked to tease me. Get me close then stop. He even worked two fingers in my ass. He offered me his cock to suck. As much as he teased me it was like a present. I sucked it down my throat, he wasnt hss big and think as Walt but still bigger then Paul. But before he came he pulled out. And slid it into my very wet cunt. It didn't take long for me to dig my nails into his back as we came together. I didn't want to let him go but we heard the ATVs co,ING back. I jumped in the pool and fixed my suit as Pete vanished into the house.

In less then 24 hours I had fucked two of my husband's friends and cum more then I had in a year. I knew Pete was married. His wife and I friends but I hadn't cared. Later that night I sought out George.

George was funny, probably Paul's best friend. I found him in the hot tub.

"I am sure Walt and Pete" I said.

"Well Pete has a big mouth" George said. I looked at him and removed my robe. I was naked as I got in the hot tub.

"You are a nasty little mink" he told me. He pulled me onto his lap.

"Have you and Cindy ever talked about" he asked me. He pinched my nipples. Cindy was his long term girlfriend. They had been together for years.

"No" I moaned. He pushed me up and bent me over the edge of the hot tub. Without warning he drove his cock balls deep into my pussy. He fucked me like a man just out of prison. He pulled out and spun me just to cum on my face. Then shoved his cock innmy mouth. As I sucked him hard again.

"I am going to take that ass" he told me. As soon as he was hard he pulled out and bent me over again.

"Please some lube" I begged. He squirted something on my ass and again drive his cock in balls deep. I was in tears as he fucked my ass. Whatever he used was no longer lubricating but he didn't slow. Petre came all over my ass. He didn't even let me rinse off instead marched me naked back into the house.

"You are the cabin slut for the weekend, I don't want to see you even wearing clothes" he told me both Pete and Walt where in the room.

Pete, George and Walt although all friends where very different. Although I abided by George' s rule of no clothes. Other then when we went into town. And then I wore a sundress, no bra or panties. I had some kind of sexual experience with each of them. Everyday. Walt gentle and kind. George forceful and dirty , while Pete was funny and playful. By Wednesday night Pete and George even split roasted me on the balcony.

Thursday I sucked Walt's huge cock. Proud I had managed to take it all before they headed to the lake. When a car pulled up.

I glanced out the window to see Paul pulling up. I rushed upstairs and jumped in the shower.

Paul

I finished up in Ohio and rushed to the lake. I would still get in a long weekend. As I entered the cabin I heard the shower, the guys must be on the lake I was right I found Phoebe in the shower. I joined her. She kissed me surprised to to see me. Fishing could wait . I took her to bed.

"Paul, I have to tell you" she stopped me. "I don't know exactly how it happened but I slept with The guys" she confessed, I was stunned.

"What? Who?" I stuttered

"All three of them. I had to tell you.i am sorry" Phoebe cried.

"At the same time" I asked but I was kissing and pawing at her. I was so turned on by her being a slut.

"Paul?" Phoebe asked as she grasped the stiffest hard on I have had since I was 15. "You're not mad" she stroked me.

"Tell me about it" I begged. She stopped me pushing me back.

"I was so worried you would leave me" she yelled at him hitting him in the chest. Then she looked me in the eye. "Walt is very big" she held her hands apart to show me. I pinned her down. I wanted her.

"Stop, if it turns you on so much I should just finish the week out ad their slut" Phoebe told me. She reached down and stoked my dick.

"Sit up" she told me. Never letting go of my now leaking penis. I came in her hand.

"Let's go down to the lake" she suggested. I got dressed. But Phoebe only wore sandels and a sheer rap. Like woman wear over thier bathing suit on the beach. We reached the dock and called the boat on the shortwave radio. They headed right in. They took one look at Phoebe. And laughed.

"You okay with your wife dressing like that Paul?"

"Yes, she looks awesome." I replied. Phoebe kissed me.

"Maybe they will let you watch later" she said and smacked my ass.

The four of us spent the day fishing. And Phoebe was the topic of the day. The three of them compared notes, and told stories about the last few days. I was rock hard the whole time. Even sharing a story of my own back when me and Phoebe had first met.

As we got back to the cabin Phoebe was cooking diner. George walked straight up and bent her over the counter. He started to play with her ass.

"George please' She begged handing him a tube of lube. He took it.

"Paul finish dinner don't let it burn" George picked Phoebe up and took her outside on the patio. I could hear them bit not see focusing on not ruining dinner.

"You are really okay with this" Walt smiled

"Yes" was all I could muster.

"Well I guess you get the couch then" Pete laughed. They treated me like a bitch after that. I was the butt of every joke or prank. Not permitted to drink to much since I wasn't man enough. I don't know if it was Phoebe or the guys but she made sure I got a good look at each one of their cocks over the next two days.

Phoebe fucked all of them at least once a day. I got even more turned on. As they teased me.

"Maybe you should ride on the back of thefour wheeler. It might be too much for you to handle" they even made me fish with Phoebe's pink pole I had bought years ago. She never used. But hadbought along for the weekend cause you never know.

Friday night. Phoebe came down stairs sat on couch where I was sleeping. I woke up. She wore her robe.

"You need to come clean, explain this all to me" She said. "You get excited when I fuck your friends, but also when they treat you like a sissy" she told me. I was rock hard and rolled to rub against her.

"Explain first" she told me.

"I don't know, I always loved it when the guys would talk about how hot you where. Made me feel like a million bucks. I had fantasies of you fucking George. I knew what he is like. Way he talks about his conquest. Plus I know I am not very big. And it's hard for you to finish with me,

"I will admit I have had more orgasms this week them in the last 5 years" she told me.

"And you let them have your ass" I moaned. We had never. I had asked her to try it once but she was unsure about it and I let it go.

"Walt took it tonight I don't think it will ever go back." She laughed stood up and showed me her still stretched asshole. I kissed it even running my tounge along the rim. This made Phoebe giggle. She spun and showed me her gapped pussy as well. I went to kiss it too. She pulled back.

"He finished in" she started I grabbed her ass and pulled her back kissing her pussy. My tounge probing the creves. I could definitely taste Walt mixed with her. Phoebe just let me continue.

"It's in there deep" Phoebe reminded me. Soon she was rocking back on forth riding my face. I made her cum she regained her composure.

"Be right back" as she got up and went upstairs. She returned a few minutes later.

"Put these on" she held a peach colored panties, with lace across the ass.

"Phoebe?!" I said surprised

"If you're going to suck men's cum out of my dirty cunt. You are going to wear the proper underwear" she told me. I got up took off my boxers as she slid them up my legs. She rubbed my never ending erection thru the soft material till I came. It didn't take long. Then went back to bed.

I was up first showered and dressed. When Phoebe came down in just her robe and made breakfast. As we ate Phoebe just crawled under the table and sucked Pete's cock. She came up. And kissed me. She hadn't swallowed Pete's load. Instead she fed it to me. Forcing me to swallow it. To laughs from the three of them.

"Last day" she handed me a flower print bikini. "Since you love to eat cum so much you should dress the part on the lake." I felt warm. I couldn't not in public. Not with my friends. Suddenly they where all insisting. I went and changed. The suit was very small barely covering my ass. And I had not tits. I wanted to protest but everyone could see my erection straining against the material.

We went out on the boat. But fishing was done. They had fished for the last 8 days. Today they made sure I got a nice tan. They went and jumped off the cliff into the lake. I wasn't allowed to try I was delicate. And although it pissed me off. It excited me also. So inplayed the part of the unimpressed girl watching them be jerks. But at noon they headed back to the cabin. We surprised Phoebe. They sat me down and I watched as they all fucked her. In every hole. She was covered in there sperm by the time they finished.

"Go clean your slut up" they told me. Phoebe was exhausted and falling asleep as I started to lick and slurp up 6 or was it 7 loads of cum off of her. The guys left us alone. But I didn't want to stop. Phoebe even fell asleep until I sucked two loads out of her cunt

"Sissy, don't forget my ass" is all phoebe said rolling over to give me better access. I let Phoebe sleep. The guys left rather then spend another night. I spent the rest of the day in Phoebe's bikini. When Pheobe woke she gave me another handjob.

"Paul, I am going to at least counting to see Pete. Since he is technically the only one single. And I will have to find some more since I know now you are a total cum fag" Phoebe told me. We left in the morning.on the long drive home. Phoebe made me make a detour to an adult store. Where she made me pick out a strapon along with other toys. After a brief breakdown where I admitted I wanted it. She also had me change right in the parking lot. Into a pair of her panties. She let me choose. Since she hadn't worn any all week.

All I could think about was when was the next fishing trip?

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Love is a killer that never dies (part 2)

Dracule Mihawk x reader. NSFW!! Discussion of dub-con.

Sex Pollen!AU for the short series that began with Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart). Can be read as a standalone.

This is part two of four.

Title taken by another song by Beast in Black -Born Again- since it's not part of the main continuity. Kuraigana Island is Mihawk's home in the manga/anime.

Shanks being in a relationship with his crew's doctor is an allusion to this headcanon list and then to this fic, even though they take place in a different continuity.

*****

He didn’t know whether the bed he was lying on was his or hers, if they were at the fortress or in his home on Kuraigana or somewhere else; he didn’t need to know. All he cared for was that (name) was next to him, and that they were both naked.

The light of the sun played on her smooth skin, making her appear even more radiant than she usually was; the candid blanket that covered the lower half of her body rustled as she turned on her side towards him, a hand raised in an inviting, enticing gesture.

“Mihawk…” she murmured; she had said his name so many times already over the years, but never like this; never like he wanted her to say it “Mihawk, please… take me, I need you so much…”

He didn’t answer; at least, he didn’t think he did, but a moment later (name) was above him, her legs caging his hips, her lovely face close enough the swordsman could feel her breath on his skin; she was smiling, and he knew that in that moment no other man, and no other woman, existed apart from them. “Mihawk… I’ve waited for you for so long…”

He had no conscience of his body, but he saw his hands raise to hold her hips, then her waist, then the soft and delicate flesh of her chest; he saw pleasure explode in her eyes, the profound and deep awareness of how his body could make her sing. Mihawk cherished that sight for a moment, then he lowered his gaze between her legs, and suddenly found it hard to swallow.

“I am yours.” she murmured; she had started caressing his chest, and even without seeing it Mihawk could feel her fingers exploring his skin, her touch gentle but possessive, and then she was lying on top of him, her nipples brushing against his chest “I have always been yours; Mihawk, please, take me, I need to feel you, I can’t wait anymore…”

Now she was in his arms; Mihawk felt that in a moment he would be kissing her, and he knew there wouldn’t be a happier, or more fortunate, man in the world. He saw her murmur his name again, and he closed his eyes, already tasting the sweetness of her mouth…

*

Mihawk woke up. So intense and vivid the dream had been, that for a moment he almost thought he could see (name) in the bed next to him; when the illusion finally disappeared the swordsman sighed, an unspeakable feeling of loss filling his heart… and a weird, unpleasant sensation the swordsman quickly traced back to a part of his body that loudly called for his attention.

Mihawk sighed; he hadn’t woken up with an erection since he was a teenager, but thank all the Gods judging from the position of the sun out of his window he hadn’t slept long, and he still had time before dinner. Unfortunately, the nap hadn’t done him the good he had hoped; rather, he felt even worse than half an hour before, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding. Perhaps he was sick, an illness he could have caught from someone at the fortress; the timing couldn’t have been worse, but (name) had told him there were excellent doctors on the island, including the ones who took care of her and her mother’s health. The swordsman did not doubt his friend would immediately send for them, but there was something more pressing he had to do…

He turned on his back; a relieved sigh escaped Mihawk’s lips as he took care of his trousers and undergarments, freeing his cock from their constraint, and wasted no time in taking it in his hand. The heavy column was already leaking pre-cum, a beady drop the swordsman scooped up with his thumb to smear it across the tip; he moaned softly, his back arching against the bed, his forehead and chest wet with perspiration.

What would happen if (name) chose that very moment to come in, perhaps without knocking and waiting for permission to enter like she had been taught to do? She would open the door, begin to say whatever she had come to tell him, and then the words would die on her lips -her lovely lips, soft and that would look so pretty stretched around his…- when she saw the state he was in, naked, moaning and tense, busy pumping his length as if his life depended on it.

“(name)...!”

How would she react? Would she blush? Keep looking despite herself, aware of the inappropriateness of her presence but unable to stop? Would she get excited - would she get horny? Would her gaze linger on his pelvis, on the thick, hard cock and wish she was the one taking care of it? Seems like you are having a little trouble, she would finally say advancing into the room, her gaze fixed on him, desire filling her eyes, want me to help? I know a quicker way to do this, than using my hands…

“(name)... fuck, (name)...”

That would be so good; having her kneel by his side to gently take his cock in her hands, marvelling at its length and girth, before bringing her lovely mouth to kiss it, slowly, savouring his taste, one of her hands holding it and the other rubbing between her legs, because she had gotten excited already as well, and they both knew a blowjob wouldn’t be enough to satiate them…

He felt horrible; feverish, a thirst filling his very being that no drink could ever quench; Mihawk’s free hand was rubbing up and down his chest, playing with his hard nipples, imagining it was her hand instead, that (name), his lovely and beautiful and desirable (name), was with him, on him, fucking him and letting him fuck her, because she wanted him as much as he wanted her, she loved him, and no one would ever come between them for the rest of their lifes…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…!” Mihawk panted; he was close, close already, because of her, because he was completely and utterly lost to her beauty and grace and charm, and no woman could and would ever compare to her “Fuck, (name)... I need you, I want you so much…”

Pressure mounted inside him; his hips shuddered, and Mihawk finally reached his climax with the image of (name) sucking him off that filled the space behind his eyelids. He was quick to press a hand to his mouth, but his cry invaded the room - and maybe the space out of it as well? Had someone heard him? One of the servants, who would then happily report the news to the rest of the staff, or, Gods forbid, the lady Veressa? What a man, even a guest, did in his own bedroom was his own affair, but Mihawk wasn’t sure he could bear the shame.

What if (name) had been the one to hear? To hear him scream her name as he climaxed? Who knew, perhaps that would be declaration enough, and in a moment the woman would really come into his room, uncertain but hopeful, and ask whether he felt up to a second round…

The door remained closed; Mihawk sighed before turning to contemplate his body, and the squirts of semen spread on his belly. He fortunately hadn’t stained the sheets, but he had to clean himself immediately, and then make himself decent for dinner; it was getting late, and it would have been discourteous to keep his hosts waiting.

The problem was, even after a nap and what had to be the most intense and at the same time unsatisfying handjob of his life, he didn’t feel any better, at all - nor well rested nor… calm. Rather, he felt horrible, light-headed, his muscles aching, and the recent ejaculation had done nothing to make his desire wither. Far from it.

Gods; his heart was still pounding, and when Mihawk brought a hand to his forehead, he wasn’t surprised to feel himself burning. He must have a fever, he reflected, and he did feel weak, but at the same time he had never felt so aroused in his life, his whole body on fire with need - need for her, for her lovely feminine body, for the way they could give each other enough pleasure to make the world stop around them.   

He was hard again - no, he was still hard, even though he had come violently two minutes ago, as the rapidly drying spurts of semen on his belly could attest. Mihawk clenched his teeth; beyond the malaise, beyond the passing relief he had just felt, his thoughts were still focused on (name), on being close to her, under her, inside her. It would have been perfect; it was natural for Mihawk to assume the dominant role during a rapport, but (name) was not a prostitute or one of the women whose face he could barely remember on the next morning. She was special, she was perfect, the only woman he felt he could share his heart with and in whose company he could show the most intimate and fragile part of him; emotional and physical intimacy between them would only match the empathy and understanding they already shared. Knowing her, loving her, had opened Mihawk’s heart and mind to sensations he never thought he could experience; it was scary, in a way, but also something he knew had made his life better.

Also, he simply liked the idea of having her on top of him, kneeling on his lap after she had impaled herself on his cock, a slow, delicious torture that would bring both of them to scream. Mihawk started working himself again, his body immediately responding to the stimulus, as he imagined it, to have (name), glorious in her nudity, rocking above him, her breasts bouncing, her hips trembling with every push, every jolt of ecstasy he was gifting her.

“Oh, Gods… oh, Gods… (name), my (name), you feel so tight…!”

Simply imagining the bliss on her beautiful face, the awareness that him, and no one else, was responsible for making her feel so good and wanted nothing better than to do that again and again for the rest of their lives, was enough to make him come, and come he did, almost violently, this time not even trying to cover the lurid moan of pleasure that escaped his lips as he climaxed.

And again, it wasn’t enough.

He was still hard; still in pain; and still desperate for a relief, both sexual and -how could he put it?- salutary that he felt was just out of his reach, but close. Very close, in fact, probably sitting at the dinner table on the ground floor together with her mother and her very unpleasant cousin, wondering where the hell he was…

Night had started falling out of his window, sensibly lowering the temperature of the room. It was late. He was late, which was new to him, since Mihawk had always made sure to arrive at his various engagements - unless he wanted to be late, like he sometimes did, for his own amusement, when it was the Marines who were expecting him. He didn’t want to keep (name) waiting, but he felt too weak to stand from the bed, let alone wash, get dressed and walk to the fortress’ dining room - not to mention the fact that his erection showed no signs of sagging.

Finally, a discreet knocking came from the door. “Excuse me, sir. Lady (name) sent me to ask you if you intend to join her for dinner.”

Dammit. Just hearing that anonymous voice say her name was enough to make his loins shudder. He clenched his teeth. “I… don’t think I can manage tonight.” he answered in the end, almost curled in a ball on the bed; every single muscle of his body was hurting, the pain seeping through him “Please make my apologies to the ladies; I’m not feeling very well.”

A moment of hesitation. “Would you like me to call a doctor, sir?”

No. It wasn’t medical care he required; he felt it, despite the excruciating torment he was experiencing. What he needed, what he yearned for and what would make everything right, was her - (name). If she came, if she let him take her in his arms, confess how desperately in love with her he was and then fuck her senseless, everything would be fine, he would be fine - and she as well.

If only. Oh, if only.

“There is no need.” he answered in the end, forcing himself to speak normally and not like a man who was being devoured by his sexual impulses “I just need to rest for a while. Tell the ladies I am sorry I can’t join them, and that I will see the lady (name) tomorrow.”

“Very well, sir.”

Alone once more, Mihawk sighed; he didn’t want his friend to worry for his health, but he really was in no condition to present himself in public. Once again, he allowed himself to imagine what would have happened if (name) herself were to come to check on him; she would insist on coming in, deaf to his begging -yes, he would beg. He never had, not even as a young child when his father used a belt on him for some perceived disobedience, but he would do it for her; it was embarrassing to admit it even in the privacy of his heart, but he would be happy to, he would gladly implore for her touch, for a kiss, for the permission to push his hard cock in her warm, tight little pussy- and see the state he was in, horny and agonising in equal measure. For a moment she would remain speechless; then a small, mischievous smile would appear on her lips as she advanced into the room, already untying the knots of her dress, her eyes focused on his throbbing cock. Do you need help, my poor darling? Let me take care of you, I’ll help you relax… hmmm, you’re even bigger than I imagined…  

If only.

In the next hours, Mihawk kept feeling worse and worse. What had started as a low-grade fever and a slight muscle pain evolved into a complete calvary, every inch of his body screaming in agony; his sweat-soaked skin burned, his stomach clenched, his heart beat fast enough to make him fear it was going to explode. And in the middle of all of that, among the suffering and the ache, one thing was sure, a simple, unexplainable truth Mihawk would bet his life on…

He needed her.

He had never felt like this. Desirous didn’t begin to describe the way he felt; aroused was a gross understatement. His whole being -his body, his mind, his very soul- was being devoured from the inside, a hungry, avid beast that roared demanding satisfaction. Everything he had done, everything he thought and felt and remembered, everything he was, had disappeared, leaving behind only an excruciating, fierce impulse: the need to fuck, to make her his, to hear her scream his name and know no other man could ever compete for her attention. He couldn’t get her pregnant -but how lovely it would have been? To see her already feminine and luscious body swollen with his child, her lovely breast heavy with milk? What a dream it would be, the coronation of their love, a little heir to raise, a child he would teach swordplay and she could groom to become the next lord of the island- but he would give her so much, make her come so hard, that she would be indifferent to any other advance. They were perfect for each other, more compatible than with any other person in the world, each other’s soulmate and destined partner; they were both sexually experienced enough to be prosaic, even jaded about it, but the pleasure they could create together and gift each other would be something too intense and precious to describe it in words. Mihawk was generally satisfied with his life, even bored, nothing having troubled or interested him for years; and then (name) had come into his life and everything had changed, even though it had taken him a while to realise him. He wouldn’t say his life would have no meaning without her by his side, nor that he would never experience satisfaction or joy again; but in the event that she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, Mihawk knew he would feel a tiny part of him missing for the rest of his days.

Nevertheless, at the moment he did feel like he could die if he didn’t fuck (name), hard, long, and soon. He wasn’t the sort of man to easily give in to panic, far from it, but he felt it; he was sure of it, even though he couldn’t begin to comprehend how this was possible, and how he could know since he had never experienced anything of the sort before.

If he didn’t do it… if he didn’t have sex with (name), it would cost him his life; the agony he was experiencing would become more and more intense, sapping his mental and physical strength, until he went insane, and his heart stopped beating. 

It was absurd, completely crazy, because while poems and romance novels were full of lovers who, having lost or been rejected by the object of their affection, died of heartbreak, nostalgia and regret making them waste away faster and more efficiently than any plague or malady could, that was only an overused literary trope, it didn’t happen in real life! Or did it?

No; more probably, he had caught an illness, a particularly virulent form of fever, and his feelings for (name), and the promise he had made to himself to let her know what he felt before the end of his vacation on the island had done the rest. People didn’t die of lack of sex; that sounded like the plot of a particularly tasteless romance novel. After all he was a pirate, he did travel around and came in contact with all sorts of people; it wasn’t unlikely that he had contracted some kind of sickness. 

Right?

That night was the worst of his life. The ache afflicting his body was excruciating, but the desire devouring him without any hope for respite was worse. He masturbated two more times, climaxing every time more violently than the previous one, before his cock finally went limp in his hand; Mihawk choked a sob of relief, but that moment of peace was short-lived. His body could have reached its limits, at least momentarily, but his mind hadn’t, and his passion for (name) was still vivid, the desire to make her his and reach heaven with her lovely body writhing under his unyielding; hour after hour, he started feeling himself suffocating, as if his lungs could not process the pleasantly cool air entering through the window. 

The bed around him was a mess, spots of semen staining the soft linen sheet; disgusted, Mihawk took it off and threw it on the floor. He didn’t even want to know what the maids who would sooner or later enter to clean the room and make his bed would think, and if those voices were to reach (name)’s ear…

Night had fallen on the island, a crescent moon shining in the sky out of his window, and the fortress was immersed in silence. MIhawk forced himself to crawl out of the bed and walk aimlessly around the room, if only because anything would have been better than tossing and turning without any hope for respite; he wished he had something to keep his mind occupied, a book or a newspaper, but he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on reading in any case, and given the state he was in, slipping quietly out of the fortress and tire himself training with Yoru was out of the question. 

He thought about (name), about how lovely and sensual she had to look in that moment, lying in her own bed, completely unaware of his predicament. What did she wear at night? A delicate silk nightgown, only reaching down her tights given the relatively warm night, leaving her shapely legs naked and hugging her curves like Mihawk would have given half of his blood to be able to do, or something else? Perhaps she slept in the nude, the soft fabric of the sheets caressing her naked skin, her plush breasts pressed against the mattress, her legs unconsciously spread apart as if to invite a lover -him- to…  

He moaned; he couldn’t help it. He knew where (name) slept; leaving his room, he could reach her door in less than five minutes, slipping unseen along the corridors. He could enter, wake her up gently, hope she would realise he posed no danger before she retrieved her derringer from under her pillow and shot him twice, and confess how much he wanted her. And then -he was sure, sure enough he could bet his life on it- she would immediately reciprocate his feelings, and invite him in her bed; the symphony of their pleasure would fill the air… 

Mihawk sighed, all too aware of the inappropriateness of his thoughts as he walked back to the bed, took a pillow and brought it to the window, hoping the cool air would make him feel better; it placed the pillow against the sill and started rocking against it, one of his hands keeping it in place and the other running over his body, stimulating it where and how he wanted her to do. He knew that coming again would mean staining the pillow, adding fodder to his shame, but he couldn’t help it; his legs felt as if they were about to give way, his heart pounding, his vision swimming. He didn’t care if someone, perhaps a guard patrolling the courtyard or a messenger returning from a late assignment, saw him; he needed her, he needed to mate with her so much it hurt, so much it could kill him, but he didn’t want it to be like this. He wanted to court (name), not to seduce her -she was no naive maiden who could become enamoured with anyone who gifted her a flower and spoke sweet nothings to her ear- but to convince her of the depth and intensity of his feelings, and of the happiness they could find within each other. No matter how amazing the sex between them could be, she was no prostitute willing to bat her eyelashes to any client who could pay for her time, nor a tavern wench who would join the patrons in their rooms for a tip; she deserved better - she deserved the world and Mihawk intended to give it to her, regardless that she was strong and resilient enough to take it for herself, if she so desired. He did want to make love to her, all night long, in any way they could think of; but what he needed, what would make him happier than any man in the world had ever been, would be to have (name) give him her heart, like Mihawk had already given her his. 

He could feel blood burn in his veins; he raised his gaze at the stars filling the dark expanse above him, and thought that none of them was more beautiful than (name), beautiful and unattainable. The night was silent, a pleasant scent arising from the garden under him, the garden that he should have led the woman he loved to for a night stroll after dinner, had he not been incapacitated by…

And then it hit him, sudden and violent like no blow from an opponent had done in decades. 

Garden. Scent. 

Of course.

Flowers. The flower!

That’s what had happened to him; not an illness he could have caught through contact with another sick person. That damn plant that (name) received as a gift from her cousin had spurted its grains in his face in what had appeared to be a defence mechanism against predators; he had felt no pain, even though the episode had been somewhat embarrassing, but he had breathed the pollen which, not unlike a toxin, had poisoned him, attacking his organism and making him fall sick.

Did Theon know the danger that apparently innocuous flower represented? (name) had seemed surprised to receive a gift from him, which could suggest the whole matter had been orchestrated by the man as a cruel prank on her. The more he thought about him, the more sinister the whole matter appeared to his eyes; if the woman was the destined victim, did the man -her own cousin, a blood relative- intend to take advantage of her, given the fact she could be unable to say no? Fortunately no harm had been done, but Mihawk would make sure that idiot would regret the day he was born.

He was hard again; knowing where those impulses came from didn’t help, because while his current inability to keep his erection under control was due to the flower’s poison, Mihawk knew his feelings were genuine, and had been for a long time. Rather, that made things even more complicated, because he couldn’t simply ask for (name)’s help, with the tacit agreement they would both forget about it once he had found his relief and carry on as if nothing had happened. He did want her, desperately; this horrible misadventure changed nothing. And he only needed to survive this night -or not? How long would the effects of the flower’s toxin last? Was he destined to feel like this forever, until his body simply couldn’t bear it and his heart stopped?- and then he would come clean about his feelings, making sure she knew how much he cared for and admired…

A sudden stab of pain darted through his abdomen, forcing the swordsman to his knees; he screamed softly as he felt his body revolting against him, begging for a release his hand couldn’t give it.

“(name)... oh, (name), I need you… please, please make me come… darling, I need you…” he moaned, his cock already clenched in his hand; his balls felt heavy, his hips humping against nothing; when he came for the umpteenth time he felt no pleasure, and he barely had the strength to reach for the discarded sheet and use it to clean himself. The pillow had fortunately survived the ordeal unscathed, but Mihawk left it on the floor as he turned to the chair he had left his coat on; he retrieved his Den Den Mushi from the right pocket and then crawled back to the bed.

Thank all the Gods, the person he needed to contact answered almost immediately. 

“Mihawk?”

 “Shanks. I’m sorry, I know it’s late.”

“Don’t worry about that. Are you alright?” the red-haired pirate asked, immediately tense even though he had to have been fast asleep until a moment before; he knew the swordsman wasn’t the sort of man who made courtesy calls, especially not in the middle of the night. Curled with the Den Den Mushi in his hand close to his mouth, Mihawk hesitated for a moment before eluding the question. 

“I need your help.” he started urgently; normally he would have bitten his own arm off rather than uttering those words, but Shanks was the only man in the world he felt relatively comfortable admitting it to “I don’t have time to explain. The last time we met, there was a book on the table in your cabin; the cover was dark green, it was about medicinal plants.”

“I think I know the one you mean. It’s one of the doctor’s books.”

The doctor -he called her that, but with the sort of voice and smile who made it immediately clear that their relationship went much above and beyond that between a captain and one of his crewmates- was Shanks’ partner, the woman who also acted as a physician on his ship. Mihawk had only met the woman a couple of times and held no particular interest for her, but for a moment he felt a burning envy towards his friend, who could kiss his partner every time he wanted and had no reason to doubt her feelings for him. 

“Why the sudden interest?”

Gods, his stomach felt on fire, the pain so intense he had to actually focus in order to continue the conversation; Mihawk clenched his teeth, ordering himself to carry on.

Mihawk had never intended to share his feelings for (name) with anyone, not even a close and trusted friend like Shanks, but he had just once made the error of mentioning her to him, and the red-haired captain had to have perceived something in his voice, because he had become curious, and insisting relentlessly to know more he had realised something very special existed between the swordsman and the mysterious lady. In the end, thanks to a glass of wine too many, Mihawk had in the end confessed he wanted more than being simply (name)’s friend - he wanted her, to himself, forever.

“There was an illustration I saw; a tall flower with bright pink petals, closed around the centre. Shanks, I-I need you to read all that the book says about the flower.”

“You are so worried about a flower? This late at night?” Shanks asked; he sounded curious, not irritated, but every second they lingered was a torture the swordsman would rather spare himself “Mihawk, what is happening? I thought you’d be with (name), at her island; is this flower something you want to gift her?”

“Not exactly. Shanks, I promise I’ll explain soon. Find that book and read it to me.”

“As you wish. Wait a moment…”

Mihawk did, his heart in his throat. Through the line, he heard the faint rustle of a sheet pushed to the side, and then a hushed conversation; either Shanks was sick as well, and forced to spend the night in the Red Force’s infirmary, or his doctor had gotten lost and ended up sleeping in her captain’s bed. Lucky bastard, Mihawk thought without resentment.

“Alright, I found it. Bright pink, as you said.”

“What does it say?”

“So, the name of the flower is Lily of Twilight… which makes no sense, lilies don’t look like this. In any case they are pretty rare, growing only on a few inhabited islands in the Calm Belt, and… oh…”

Silence fell; Mihawk forced himself to wait while Shanks read to himself, and when he spoke again, the red-haired pirate’s voice was devoid of its usual playful tone. “Mihawk, don’t tell me you, or (name), have breathed the pollen of this flower.”

“I have.”

“... shit.”

Another pause. More than feeling it, Mihawk saw the hand holding the Den Den Mushi begin to shake. “Shanks.” he carefully articulated “What does it say?”

“Well, that this flower sort of spews out its pollen to defend itself against insects, and if a person were to inhale it… it causes fever, vomit, seizures, vertigo, the pain must be excruciating and… it also says here that it has a very intense aphrodisiac effect. Like, err… extremely intense. Unrestrainable, even.”

Silence.

“Are you…?”

“What do you think?” Mihawk asked brusquely “Is there a cure?”

The sound of a page being turned followed. “Just a moment…” 

“Is your doctor listening?”

“No, I came out of the room to let her sleep.” Shanks explained quickly, now as worried as his friend “Here it is. There is no cure for the physical distress, but if the hunger is sated, the other symptoms should disappear quickly. You… well, I think you only have one thing to do.”

Mihawk agreed; there was no other solution, but at the same time, the swordsman felt ready to bear the agony that was devastating his body for the rest of time, rather than asking for the help of the only person who could give it to him.

“At least you are in the right place; I mean, with her there with you. Imagine if you were alone on Kuraigana, or in the middle of the ocean…”

“I’m not going to do it.”

“What?!”

Mihawk tried to answer, but suddenly he found himself unable to see; for a few terrifying seconds, his eyes had simply stopped working. He had time to fear this was his end, that his body had started wasting away and he would spend the rest of his life blind, and then suddenly he could see again, although the world seemed to sway in front of him.

He had little time left; he felt it. He didn’t know how much, but little enough he couldn’t afford to think about feelings and tact. Nonetheless…

“I won’t tell (name) what is happening to me.” he stated as calmly as he could - that is, much less than he would have wanted “Nor will I… ask for her help to solve this little problem.”

The little problem had just raised its head between his legs, proudly hard once more; Mihawk sighed.

“Mihawk… I don’t think you realise the danger you’re in.”

“I know what I’m doing, Shanks.”

Shanks grunted. “Forgive me, but I don’t think you do. The book says that if not stopped in time, the pain could kill you, and there have also been victims who, unable to satisfy their appetites -who the hell wrote this stuff?- ended up losing their mind. Is this what you want? To go insane because you didn’t tell (name) you’re in love with her? After all this is also why you accepted her invitation, did you not? You already planned on doing that.”

He did, which made his friend’s words even more reasonable; Mihawk didn’t answer, too focused on the agony he was going through, and for once unable to.

“Of course, it doesn’t necessarily have to be (name) who helps you… scratch your itch; this is not a true-love-kiss situation. I don’t know if there is a brothel on the island, but…”

“I am not asking (name) to procure me a prostitute!” Mihawk exclaimed. He actually screamed, the words echoing in the room, and the swordsman bit his tongue; this was just what he needed, to make the whole fortress aware of his plight “I would never be able to look at her in the face again, let alone tell her how much I want her.”

It was true, and at the same time not the whole truth, since there was another reason, one Mihawk didn’t dare confess, not even to a loyal friend. Shanks was right, love and even just acquaintance were not necessary to find the relief he craved so much; strictly speaking all he needed was a hole to fill, and (name) was probably pragmatic enough to understand he didn’t mean to disrespect her home bringing a prostitute in it, if he explained the situation to her. 

Still.

It has to be her. Even if it is only meaningless sex, even if it costs me my life. I want no one else; I will have no one else. Only her, because she is the only one I could ever love.

He didn’t say it, but Shanks seemed to perceive his reasoning all the same, because Mihawk heard him sigh; he imagined his friend was sitting on the floor in the corridor out of his cabin, the book in his lap, since it wouldn’t have been easy for a one-armed man to hold both that and the Den Den Mushi. 

“Listen, I’m not saying I would act differently if I were in your shoes.” the red-haired pirate murmured in the end “I’m just saying that (name) wouldn’t want you to die, or worse, for a matter of honour; and I don’t want it either, if you’re interested. If this woman actually cares for you, and if you explain exactly what happened to her, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Mihawk promised he would remember. “Thank you, Shanks. I’m sorry I brought you into it.”

“Don’t mention it. Call if there is something I can do to help.”

They said good-bye. Mihawk deposed the Den Den Mushi on the bedside table and let himself fall back on the bed, exhausted like no training session had left him in years.

Now he knew what actually awaited him, and he had to admit the consequences of letting his urges get the better of him were even worse than he had imagined; to die before his time was something the swordsman had always known was a possibility, even at least a decade after the last time an opponent had seriously troubled him, but losing his mind was almost too horrible a destiny to consider. A quick, clean death was far preferable, even if he had to give it himself.

A sudden wave of nausea overtook him; a hand pressed to his mouth, Mihawk was able to crawl out of the bed once more and reach the porcelain basin in a corner of the room, full of the still clean water he had used that morning to wash his face. The stomach cramps as he retched were almost unbearable; the swordsman fell to the ground, feeling every ounce of his body beg for mercy.

For the first time, as he waited for his legs to feel steady enough to carry him, Mihawk seriously considered telling (name) the exact nature of his plight, and the only way he had to live to tell the tale; at the very least, he had to warn her of what her cousin might had wanted to do to her.

What would his friend think? Mihawk was confident that, faced with the prospect of having him die under her roof if no one alleviated his suffering, (name) would do everything within her power to help… even though she might not want to do it herself, given the fact there was a house of pleasure on the island and she could easily find him a bedmade.

What if she felt she was taking advantage of him, given the fact Mihawk wasn’t in the condition of saying no, even though and specifically because his life was on the line? What if he couldn’t convince her of how desperately in love with her he already was, and had been for months, and that he wouldn’t want any other woman?

What if she simply wasn’t interested in him, and would therefore rather find him another partner, or worse, what if she would only do it out of an obligation, because she didn’t want him to die, without any emotional involvement? Mihawk wasn’t sure he could bear it. 

What could he do? For the first time since he had been old enough to decide for himself and had taken charge of his own life, Mihawk saw no clear, definite answer.And more importantly, what should he do?

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Dracule Mihawk #Mihawk #Dracule Mihawk x reader #Mihawk x reader #Steven John Ward #Bellona's stuff

[cherie-doll]

A Shining Star Taken From The Sky | Phillip Graves x Reader one-shot |

✧˚domestic fluff

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Phillip had felt something within his heart, like the light flap of a butterfly’s wings when he had seen you play with his nieces and nephews at a family gathering. Now, inside his heart was an overwhelming hurricane of feelings as he observed your gentle nature. He’d always imagined him and his future partner with kids, but he didn’t want this with just anybody.

It was a dream, a fantasy he indulged in and hoped to one day make it come true.

You let your head fall against the soft pillowcase; you were exhausted. Phillip’s family made you feel at home and you cherished them all, but his family was so numerous and loving that it could be overwhelming at times.

Sighing contently, you turned to Phillip, but he wasn’t lying on his side of the bed, instead, he was staring out the window at the darkening sky, his back turned to you.

“Phillip?” You called out to him.

He didn’t stir at first and, like falling out of a trance, he turned to you. A soft smile on his face as he lay in bed and wrapped his arms around your waist, closing the gap between you both. A warm feeling fluttered in your stomach as you felt his affection.

“You ever thought of having a little one of our own?”

The question strung you like a chord.

“A baby? From us?” The question was absurd, nevertheless, you hadn’t expected him to ask anytime soon.

He nods and a grin tugs at the corners of his lips, his mind making him excited at the mere thought of having living evidence of the fruit of your love.

“Yeah, a baby,” His mind had already started with several reasons to convince you. “Our relationship is stable, we are financially secure… I don’t see what’s stopping us.”

You bit your bottom lip nervously. It was easy for him to ask for children, no doubt he would provide all the support he could offer, but the one who would be affected the most would be you. It was difficult to admit that the idea of giving birth to a child was frightening.

“Well, a child is a lot of responsibility.” The unease in your voice is evident.

A deep chuckle comes from Phillip. “I’m aware of that. But, we have each other.” Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he continued speaking. His voice softened, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear. “And don’t think I haven’t seen how caring you are with children. I can already imagine you nurturing our child.” No doubt Phillip had spent a lot of time thinking about this.

You drew in a deep breath.

“I understand, it’s overwhelming for you. But, I think you’re doubting yourself, we’re more than ready.” He said.

It was more than meaningless doubts and hesitance. To make such a significant decision as the existence of someone else’s entire existence was substantial.

At your silence, he raised his head to examine your face.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

You couldn’t repress your thoughts about it anymore when you felt how gentle he was being. He listened and after a moment of silence, he hummed low as he nodded.

“I want to know how you feel.”

“I just told you what I think-” He stopped you there. “No,” he said softly, taking your hands in his. “I want to know what you feel, you already told me your thoughts.”

You took a moment to acknowledge the sentiments buried beneath to override your reasonings.

A firmness was set in your eyes as you glanced into his with a new attitude.

It does not matter how a family comes to be; happiness that comes in any way or form is still considered a blessing.

So, when you held the little girl in your arms, the first thought that came into your and Phillip’s minds wasn’t that biologically she wasn’t yours. The most shining star was taken from the sky and had come to settle on the same stretch of land as you and Phillip to coexist briefly in one another’s world.

#cod fanfic #phillip graves cod #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader

[ivysangel]

Jason Todd has a raging size kink. He tries not to make it too obvious in public, tries to pretend that he doesn't notice how standing next to you really highlights just how large he really is. But it's always on his mind, always front and center, even when he doesn't want it to be.

He'll have a hand on your back as he ushers you through crowded parts of Gotham, trying not to think about how large his hands are and how one of them can cup an entire asscheek when he's fucking you.

He grabs things off of tall shelves at grocery stores when you can't reach them. Comes up behind you and picks them up with ease while he's pressed into you from behind. He's peering down at you, a soft grin on his face as he thinks about you on your knees, struggling to take him in your mouth.

When you're playing twister at a Wayne family function, and you end up falling on each other during a wrong move, he watches you break out into a fit of laughs while he turns red in the face. Not from embarrassment, he couldn't care less about that, but because the first thought that popped into his head as you were pinned under him was how much he wished you could stay there.

For a split second, an image is projected into his mind of you squirming beneath him as he puts all of his weight on you. All 200+ pounds keeping you firmly in place as he fucks you good and deep just how you like.

He's scrambling to get off of you now; a shade of crimson akin to the one he dons at night colors the visible parts of his body, and he clears his throat awkwardly as he helps you to your feet.

"In hindsight, he should've played with one of us," Dick says from the couch. He's gesturing toward you when he continues, "he's just too big in comparison. Throw's everything off."

Jason doesn't hear the second part. His ears start ringing the moment he's reminded that everyone else is aware of how big he is next to you, and he's very quickly calculating how many more rounds of twister he has to go before the two of you can politely duck out and head home for a more...intimate version of the game.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #jason todd drabble #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x gn!reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood smut #red hood imagine #red hood drabble #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x fem!reader

[lale-txt]

❥ falling asleep besides you for the first time ↳ w/ Toji, Naoya, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Higuruma, Sukuna & Choso

a/n: this came over me like a fever dream during another episode of insomnia. some of those drabbles are a little sad, i apologize. it's what you get with all those tragics characters. reader is gn!

word count: 1.4k

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t even want to fall asleep; it’s not like he had a good night of rest ever since… well. He tells himself he’s just gonna close his eyes for a bit, stretched out on the couch next to you, his weary head in your lap. There’s still blood on his hands and on the side of his face, he’s gonna get cleaned up in just a bit, he mumbles, but the words come out heavy and drowsy, and your fingers are tangled in his hair now and your voice is this sweet whisper, baby, I love you anyway, and Toji–Toji just gives in. For the first time, sleep doesn’t come over him as a heavy veil, as if he’s drowning; for once it’s something peaceful, something quiet. Something he welcomes. Next to you, you with your fingers woven between his, you who loves even the broken parts of him, you with quiet love and reassurance that you’re still gonna be there when he wakes up again.

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀 hasn’t had another warm body next to him under the covers in a long time. He doesn’t realize how much he missed this until your body melts into his, one leg swung over his thighs, your arm sneaking around his waist and your head finding its spot in the crook of his neck. His cheek falls softly against your forehead when he pulls you closer, breathing in the scent of you that’s the closest to home he ever felt, pressing kisses on the crown of your head. It’s not just lust–oh, he wants to devour you, but there’ll be time in the morning–it’s the absence of loneliness and unspoken confessions. Higuruma can tell when he’s falling in love and in this moment he’s wading deep, deeper through his feelings for you, biting his tongue so they don’t spill out all over the pillows and into you. You already know anyway, and when the sun comes up again, you’ll lick them from the cave of his mouth like a prayer.

𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀 can’t fall asleep, not on his wedding night, not when your mouth is whispering all those words he’s demanding from you. His cheek is pressed against your palm while he’s pinning you down, almost nuzzling into it like a touch-starved stray, golden eyes lingering on you. Say you’re mine. Again. Say who you belong to. Mine. Mine. All mine. He isn’t aware how pleading he sounds, how raspy his voice gets the more you obey, every time you sigh his name so softly into his open mouth. Naoya doesn’t care if you’re lying, as long as you wear your wedding band on your ring finger for everyone to see. You’re his to keep now, and if he could have it his way, you would be forbidden to leave this bed forever; he wasn’t aware just how much he had craved the presence of another being by his side at night, one who doesn’t leave once he had his share of pleasure. No, you’re his now, and before sleep eventually finds him, he’ll make sure to sink his teeth into you till his name rolls off your tongue like a lullaby. 

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 doesn’t let go of your hand; he’s afraid it’ll go cold if he allows himself to let his guard down even for one second. This isn’t how he had imagined spending the first night with you. Not under the fluorescent lights of the infirmary, not with your body wrapped in gauze and machinery monitoring your heart rate. It dawns on him as he’s sitting on your bedside–how attached he’s gotten to you, then: How he had almost lost you today. He squeezes your hand tighter and sighs, his weary head sinking down on the mattress. Your fingers twitch and find their way into his hair, combing through it weakly. As if they say, it’s okay, I’m alive, you’re not to blame. So please don’t leave and take all your love with you. And Nanami takes your hand once again and kisses your fingertips, pressing promises against your skin, promises of a future where you and him can just be, one where he can finally put all of these feelings down, down in your open and gentle palms for you to keep.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 is clingy throughout the day, but even more so at night. He doesn’t like the eerie quiet that settles in once the sun has sunken, not when he can listen to your steady breathing next to him instead, so naturally he feels a rush of joy when you push your futons together for the first time. His heart is beating way too fast to find sleep now, his eyes taking in everything about your sleeping figure, from the way your chest rises and falls to how your nose scrunches slightly for a moment. Choso wants to know what you’re dreaming about, what colors your dreams are, and if he’s ever in them. He wants to engrave himself into your being, wants to keep you wrapped in his arms forever. His kisses feel light against your skin, careful not to wake you but enough to fill his desire. Choso loves you with his entire being, and sleep is merely an obstacle, cutting away from your time spent together–though he must admit, his eyes flutter shut quite easily in your embrace.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 realizes that his idea of ‘sweets in bed’ now has a double meaning, seeing you sprawled out in his sheets with candy wrapping paper clenched between your fist and more of it lying on the floor. Cute, he can’t help but murmur as he lays down next to you on his side, mustering you with an amused smile on his lips. When he told you to knock yourself out on the sweet souvenirs he brought, he didn’t assume you would take it that literally. His thumb brushes over the corner of your mouth, collecting some of the powdered sugar that’s still stuck there, and Gojo could swear he never tasted anything sweeter than this when he brings it to his tongue. He gently replaces the trash you hold onto in your sleep with his fingers, woven between yours, and pulls you close to him, his tall figure embracing you; and for the first time in a long time, Gojo feels a wave of calm wash over him, allowing him to exhale and sink into a dream almost as sweet as you.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 doesn’t know why he keeps entertaining your antics. Sharing a bed, sleeping together side by side? How utterly foolish, but as to be expected from a mere human; they’ve always been like this, seeking comfort and warmth when they’re the most vulnerable. Of course a predator like Sukuna wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping safe and sound. Yet still; he can’t help but let his gaze linger on you, wrapped up in his embrace, four arms holding you in place on top of him. Everyone else would freeze in fear, but you? You snore quietly without a single worry in the world, knowing you have a king watching over you in your slumber. Sukuna huffs but still brushes a strand of hair out of your face. Maybe he’ll tell Uraume that you’re off the menu, for now. As long as you know your place–in his embrace, wearing his marks with pride, providing a sense of comfort Sukuna had never known before. Fool, he mutters and rests his chin on top of your head, not sure if those words were for him or you. 

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 doesn’t question when you knock on the door of his dorm room, asking for shelter after a particular nightmare. He hasn’t found any sleep yet anyway. When he lifts up the covers for you to slip under, he’s surprised that you don’t even hesitate to do so, wrapping yourself around his body as if it was molded for that only. Geto can tell that you’re trying not to tremble, but the nightmare still lingers. He knows it all too well. His fingers brush through your hair when he pulls you closer to his chest, as if this could prevent you from falling apart–though deep down he’s aware that he might be the one on the verge of breaking. You know it too, don’t you? Geto is tired, oh, so tired. The kind of tired sleep can’t fix, and he can’t help but wonder if this would also be the last time that you’re in his arms, clinging onto someone who is long gone; a version of him that he shed together with his dream of letting himself love you.

#jjk x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #naoya x reader #higuruma x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #naoya zenin #gojo satoru #geto suguru #choso kamo #ryomen sukuna #higuruma hiromi #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 7th

miguel o’hara x breaking the bed

miguel often forgot how ginormous he was. forgot to be careful.

you’d seen the serious and brooding man nearly smack his head on low doorways, and have to catch himself from falling through glass panels of rooftops that couldn’t hold his weight. you both should have guessed this would happen at some point.

honestly, you can’t believe you didn’t see it coming. the bed was creaking louder than ever from the sheer force it was rocking, the wooden headboard repeatedly slamming against the wall in quick successions— but you weren’t listening to that, all you could focus on was miguel’s quiet groans and pants in your ear.

you were sobbing and drooling into the soft pink pillow you usually slept soundly on, your ass thrust obscenely into the air and back arch held firmly down by his strong hands. he frees one to bring it round to your chin, lifting it so that he could speak lowly into your ear again, strong chest pressed to your bare back. “you’re breathing, yeah?” it came out rough, strained like he was holding back. almost like he didn’t care much for the answer? his pelvis clapped against your ass each time he pounded into you and it took you a few seconds to formulate an answer.

“y-yeah! yes!” you cry out, though you weren’t sure if you were breathing, just hyper aware of the drool clinging to your chin. as if reading your mind miguel swipes at it with his thumb briefly before shoving your head back down. he winces, chin to his chest as he presses down harder on your back, really nestling himself up against your cervix for a moment as he relishes in the way your cunt clamps down on him. “está apretadito, mami” he groans, more to himself before continuing on with his rapid pace.

until of course, there was a splitting sound — like wood cracking, and then the mattress suddenly sunk a few inches. he stills, and you gasp. he really broke the fucking bed.

“god, m-mig—” you try and push yourself up on shaky elbows, because it feels like the right thing to do — but he pushes you back down, panting.

“shh, shh. quédate quieto, hm?” he rasps, his hips starting to move again.

“my bed—”

“can buy a new one for you. whatever you want.”

with that, you were satisfied. plus, you couldn’t will yourself to actually care — not when he was this deep inside you.

#apologies if the translation is not so good #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel smut #miguel o’hara drabble

[bountycancelled]

OPLA characters reacting to a sweet, girly reader who turns out to be a a ruthless fighter

genre: headcanons, fem! reader, kinda suggestive??, idfk just read it bro

requested: nope, but reqs are open! pls, for the love of god, request for the opla♡

feat: zoro, sanji

a/n: reader's feminine but not female if that makes sense, only witting again because I'm obsessed with the one piece live action. also, this may be a little ooc, since I haven't watched the anime/read the manga, sorry about that! also, if you wanna be added to my perm taglist, pls feel free to ask!

☆ZORO☆

when you first joined the crew, zoro was immediately unsure of what exactly you brought to the table. I mean, they already had a swordsman, a sharp shooter, a navigator, a dumb cook and a captain/motivational speaker. so what were you doing here?

from luffy's explanation of you, he was aware that you were a good fighter, but he had never seen you in action.

the only things he had seen from you were stuffed animals laying around the ship, pastel outfits he could spot for miles, and bows that had been put in his hair while he slept.

he was tolerant of you at best, and straight up apathetic at worst, but finally, there came a time where someone tried picking a fight with you since you seemed like an easy target while you were walking with him and nami.

although he wasn't particularly fond of you (lies), he still felt the need to defend you as a crewmate, but the ass whooping you gave the stranger made him freeze in place.

there was blood splatter on your pretty face, deep red sploches of your cute clothes, and a look of pure hatred in your eyes. and you had never looked more beautiful in zoros eyes.

that was the first time zoro had ever smiled at you. sure, he had slightly smirked at your cuter tendencies, but in that moment he was truly smitten with you.

from that day, zoro wanted to train with you. what you lacked that he had in experience, you made up for in absolute cruelty when fighting. you were quick, agile and you weren't afraid to make zoro hurt, and he loved every second of it.

zoro would sometimes smile when he saw bruising on his body from his time training with you but catch himself and go stone faced immediately. no, he was not falling for you, absolutely not.

except he was, and the next time you showed up by his side with a slight limp, some tears in your cotton candy coloured clothes, blood all over you, and a sadistic smile on your face, he would tell you as much.

SANJI♡

sanji is unsurprisingly, enamoured by you the second you join the straw hats.

I'm talking, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, cheesy and constant compliments like "you're cuter than any of your stuffed animals, yn-swan~" and even brushing up on his baking skills to bake you aesthetically pleasing sweet treats that always put a smile on your face.

if I'm being completely honest, it doesn't bother him that he doesn't know exactly what your strengths are, you could be amazing at everything like barbie or you could literally not know night from day and he'd still admire you all the same.

one day, you're wearing bottoms that are on the shorter side not that sanji minds at all and you're out exploring the island you're at with him by your side, holding all your bags because in his words "angels don't do hard labour when he's around" when someone decides to hit on you.

you reject them politely, but when they make a less than appropriate comment about your outfit, you click your tongue and shake your head, readying yourself to hospitalise someone.

sanji's mood switches to one of being happy because he's around you to one of murderous intent the second this rando tries you, but you already have them wheezing on the floor with broken nose before sanji can even lift his leg off of the ground.

you're back to usual self, fixing the bow on your hair while complaining about how fucking hard it is to get blood stains off of your clothes, while sanji is thinking about how fucking hard he is

safe to say that this heartless, terrifying side of you makes sanji fall even harder and question whether or not he's a masochist.

he'll still insist on doing things like carrying you anywhere (most of your shoes you impractical as fuck, but style>functionality always) lifting things for you and treating you like a piece of fine china because that's exactly what you deserve, no matter how badass you are.

only difference is, now he'll never come to aid when it comes to kicking ass, because he enjoys seeing you take people to heaven and back more than anything.

he compliments now range from "omg you are the most adorable, lovable, doll-like angel I've ever seen" to "please punch me, step on me, make my nose bleed, choke me-" and he's now ten times more annoying about you than he was before, which no one thought was possible.

believe me when I say that images of you in frilly outfits with your eyes gleaming like diamonds eveytime you make someone bleed occupy 90% of his thoughts. (the other 10% is all things cooking, of course.)

#opla #one piece x reader #one piece live action #x reader #reader insert #roronoa zoro #zoro live action #zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji live action #sanji x reader #one piece #one piece headcanons

[kosije]

sins in silk

c/w ★ ׂ duke!miguel ohara x princess!reader, they are from different kingdoms, mentioned age-gap, forbidden love aspect, pregnancy kink, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual head, fingering, size kink, art cred: kammie_arts1903

"Princess, the Grand Duke is here. May I bring him in?"

"Show him to the study for now. Tell him I will be right out. Be sure to thank the Grand Duke for his patience."

"Yes, Princess."

"Oh, Will?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"After you inform the Duke, please excuse everyone to their chambers, yes?"

"But princess, you know if the king found out we had left your side, even with the Grand Duke we could lose our-"

"I will not let that happen. So please, Will, do this for me."

All though apprehensive, your servant bows and disappears from your room, in long strides to the Duke.

It's the 5th time this month he has come to the estate. Always with the intention to see the King and ruminate. And despite him being so much older than you, your father's closest friend and strongest connection to the 2099 kingdom, and is only to wed a woman from his territory, each time he has come has left you tangling a hand in your silk sheets, hushed cries of the Duke's name left to fall from your wet lips in a silent plea.

Every time he drops by unannounced, talks to your father, and leaves. Every time he has his salt and pepper sprinkled brown hair combed back away from his face, showing the wrinkles on his forehead. Every time his eyes have focused on you, running over you like the pretty oil portrait that hangs above the study's mantle as his jaw flexes brows furrow, something in you ignites and the yearning becomes almost palpable.

Never does he say more to you than a few words, only acknowledging you after with how his body tenses when you're around. He runs as cold as the marble under your feet as you move to your vanity to reapply your perfume and shift your dress to expose enough of your collarbone without looking intentional. You're buzzing at the thought of seeing him, taking the rollers out of your hair with bubbling anticipation. This is the first time he's come amidst nightfall and the first time you two will be alone. With your hands resting to your front, you walk to the study well aware of how low your neckline is dipping while high pillared walls with paintings of cherubs and past battles trail you illuminated by ivory candles.

When you push past tall burgundy doors, you're greeted by the sight of Grand Duke of 2099, Miguel O'hara, who's stretching his back with two large hands on his hips. The deep groan he lets out makes your skin flush, and when his cold gaze meets yours you almost shiver. His eyes drift from your face to just right where your dress exposes a bit of the fat on your breast, and you smile when you hear him suck in a breath.

"What do I owe the pleasure, Your Grace?" His eyes tear from your chest as he focuses on the crackling fireplace.

"Just here to see your father, is he near?" He asks, brown eyes fixing back onto yours. Your smile only widens.

"I'm afraid the King is away, but he should be returning soon, you are more than welcome to stay 'till his return."

"I shouldn't-"

"Humor me, Your Grace. After all, I am a bit lonely without my father to talk to." you say, batting your eyelashes at him bashfully.

Apprehension is so clear on his face, but still he nods, straightening his white button up and waiting for you to go on.

"Follow me," you say, walking back down the hall until you reach your room.

"Princessa, I will not go further, this is inappropriate. A young lady shouldn-"

"'M not as young as I was before. Surely you can agree, no?"

"Even so," He coughs. "That is not the point-"

"You should have no trouble entering. I have already given my permission."

He doesn't look convinced.

"Do you not trust me? Have I done wrong by you?"

"That is not it, Princessa-"

"Then please, my duke, time is slipping right past us." you whisper, slipping through the doors, intentionally brushing your hand across his thigh. You grin when you hear his shaky breath, and hear your door not only close, but lock.

"What is it that you have here that we couldn't be anywhere else for?"

"Are you putting on an act," you ask him, turning around to face him still at a distance. "Or are you truly this aloof, Your Grace?'

"I’m sorry?-"

"I have a confession," you say. walking closer and closer until his breath is caught in his throat, and your lips are just a nudge away from his.

"My father won't be returning anytime soon." And suddenly, it seems it has clicked in his head, as his eyes darken.

"This can not happen."

"You're right," your hand is pressed up against his chest.

"Someone could hear us," He whispers, making no effort to push you away.

"I've already dismissed everyone to their chambers."

"If your father ever found out there could be a war," he tries to argue, but his head is still dipping down, ghosting over your lips.

"We have all night to just the two of us."

And just a second after saying that, he kisses you. His lips are hot, hungry, and experienced in the way they move against yours, swallowing your every breath. His hands find your waist, but he hesitates and you can tell he hasn't given in completely. And something about that excites you.

You pull away from his lips, leaving him noticeably confused until your hand reaches down and palms his cock, happy at the way he's already hard.

"Do you know just how long I've been wanting this?" You ask shifting him around you.

He doesn't say anything, only shakes his head "No."

"Ever since the day you came back to visit, I haven't been able to think of anything else." When you push him down on the edge of your bed, he shivers when you drop to your knees and play with the button on his slacks.

"Every night, I touch myself on these sheets to the thought of you." You confess, finally free him from his pants, leaving him in the thin fabric of his underwear, painfully soaking up the front of them with his pre.

"Princessa," He finally says in almost a whine. "If you say things like that I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back."

And dipping your hand under his waistband to grip his cock, you savor how thick and heavy he feels and the groan he lets out with a kiss to his base. You can't deny the bit of worry that flushes through you when you see just how big he is. Thick beads of cum pulse out of him that you lick up hungrily, humming at how you can feel hus veins on your tongue.

"Then please, Your Grace. Give me everything."

That seems to shatter his self control, because suddenly he has a hand in your hair and a hand on his cock as he forces your lips over his angry brown head.

"You're such a damn tease, you know that?" He gritts out, bullying his cock all the way to the back of your throat and then some. You gag and choke around him, already feeling your throat burn and eyes well up.

"Always coming around me with your father with your body on display in those cute little gowns, batting those pretty little eyes at me when you talk. What would your father think if he knew all of that was because you were trying to get my attention?" He coos between groans while using your face like just a vessel to get off, and your cunt starts dripping. "Just so I could fuck your pretty mouth like this?"

You can't do anything but moan around him, croaking out gasp when he finally lets you catch your breath before immediately pulling you back down onto his dick rapidly as snot mixes in with tears, spit, and cum starts to drip down your jaw and onto your floor. He begins to unbutton his shirt, before tearing it off completely, leaving buttons to fly across your room. Looking up through teary eyes you take in the way his usually combed back hair sticks to his sweaty forehead messily, as his abs tense and relax with every rapid breath as his mouth lulls open with lidded eyes, moaning when he sees just how well you swallow him.

Swiftly, you run your tongue over the slit of his cock, hearing him whine, and feeling the grip on your hair tighten enough to burn your scalp. Your throat aches with every heavy thrust that only spurs on the throbbing between your thighs as your hands play with his balls and he stutters in your mouth, shooting his seed down your throat, midst mumbling praises.

Without word or warning, he flips you over, effectively pinning you down to your bed once he's come down from his high. His large calloused hand runs up and down your thigh before tossing your nightgown up, and he groans at the sigh.

"You needed me so bad you didn't wear anything under this frilly thing? What a filthy girl." He grins, slapping your dripping cunt and drinking up your moan in a kiss.

"Your Grace,"

"That's not what you should be calling me." He grits, crouching down to his knees to lick a stripe up your throbbing pussy.

"M-miguel,"

"Yes, Princessa?"

"Please."

"Please what, Princessa?" He says, licking another stripe, but slower.

"Please...don't tease me." You whimper, muffling your moans with the back of your hand.

"And what shall I do instead?"

"Kiss me harder, please. I need it, Mig-" and your sentence is cut off by the feeling of his nose kissing your clit as he buries his face into your sopping heat, groaning at the way you suck his tongue in. You're writhing at the feeling, but when you feel one of his calloused fingers push through you, you lose your vision for a second.

"Fuck- you're even tighter than I thought you were," he groans, and you feel your body ignite at his admission.

"You'd think of me?" You ask with such a worn out voice, Miguel's hips buck up in search of any friction at all.

"All the damn time. Would fuck my hand everyday over those pretty eyes and lips, imagine how pretty you'd look all happy and spent, with the image of my love spilling out of you." He confesses, speeding his assault on your hole, hitting spots with his fingers you could only dream of, before latching his mouth back on and fucking you with his tongue and fingers. The arousal in you was rushing through you like a wave and just after a strangled moan it blows out of you in pleasurable burst that leave you flushed. He hungrily drinks you up like a starved man until you're whining from the sensation.

When he rises from the floor he doesn't bother wiping your slick from his mouth, only laughs at your fucked out expression, and runs his lips over yours, amused by how you trail after him. Annoyed, you wrap your hands around his collar and pull his lips onto yours, gasping and licking into his mouth. Between the taste of you on his tongue, his rock-hard cock rubbing against your puffy folds as your hands run through his sweaty hair.

"Gonna give me one more?" He asks, voice low like gravel.

"I'll do anything for you, Miguel. Anything you want."

He kisses you again, a passionate thing as you both whine at the feeling of him bullying into you.

"'Ts too big, Mig- oh! S-slow down!" You cry, but his hand slaps the fat of your thigh and grips it, hitting you even deeper at a fast pace. The pain is still there, but feeling of pleasure is much more intense. And it only skyrockets when you hear his voice.

"Sshhh sweetheart. You're-fuck-already taking me so well. so damn tight around me. Be good and take what I give you. So I c-can tell your father what a nice cunt his perfect little girl has." He rasps, pounding you even deeper than before, and your nails dig up the fabric of your sheets, leaving fabric frayed in long scratches. One hand grips your thigh as the other moves up your dress to tweak and grope your breast, making you clench down around him. He drawls out a curse as his head falls into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of your sweat and perfume that makes him impossibly more needy to where he's plowing through you in quick hard strokes that move your bed to knock against your walls, shaking the shelf above you.

His teeth sink into your neck, almost as a mark of ownership, before sucking a bruise into your skin, continuing his markings lower and lower to focus them on your breast. Your back arches at the sting and you cry out at the imposing feeling building up inside you.

"Such a pretty girl," he says, leaning over to look you in your eyes, studying the gaping of your mouth and tugging on your brows as your orgasm builds up. His eyes are trained on you, as he throbs inside you, stimulating you further.

"I'm close-" you whimper, voice cracking as he licks a stripe up your neck.

"Yeah?" He asks, smirk practically audible as he hums in your ear. "Do it. Squeeze me, sweetheart."

It only takes a few heavy strokes to hit your sweet spot before you are gushing around him, making his thrust sporadic and moans louder.

"Yes-shit- let me fill you up. I'll give you an heir, and then I'll-hah- fuck you again, and again, and again."

"Yesyesyes, please." You think you exclaim, but can't tell if you said it out loud or just in your head because of how overestimated you are. His hand rubs circles on your clit, and your toes curl as your heels dig into the muscle of his back.

"Fuck- I'm gonna-" He spits out, just before spilling his seed into your cunt, carefully riding out his orgasm inside you while pushing his cum deeper into your womb. His palm stretches over the expanse of your chest as he leans down to kiss just above your belly button. The room is quiet now that he is still inside you, and you watch Miguel lean down to kiss you once more, in the form of a soft peck to your swollen lips. Once he pulls back, he leaves you briefly before returning with a warm damp cloth that he wipes you down with. Once he is done, he discards it into a bucket and lies himself down next to you.

"If we continue to do this," he says, carefully pulling out of you. "We will eventually have to tell your father."

"You're right," you whisper scared, but when you feel his strong arm pull you flush against his chest, hope surges through you and you bury your face into his warm body.

"We'll need to get up early, the maids would appreciate finding us like this."

"We'll be fine. After all, a pregnancy will shock them far more than this."

"I'm sure it will," he laughs, kissing your forehead.

Since envelops the two of you, as you notice his breathing deepen.

"Your, Grace-"

"Miguel," he corrects, eyes dancing across your face with a small smile.

"Miguel, my father will be gone on the next full moon."

"The next full moon, huh?" He asks no one at all, pushing your hair behind your ear.

It’s bittersweet asking him to sneak around with you again. And yet, all he says is a simple "Okay," placing a kiss to the palm of your hand, and you understand what the gesture is:

A promise.

#( ☆ ) spiderman: atsv #( ☆ ) smuts #( ☆ ) fluff #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel ohara #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o’hara fluff #sins in silk #duke!ohara

[hoseoksluna]

ROSÉ | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 5.7k

summary: on your first dinner date, your boyfriend brings you a small gift—too bad you're too horny to appreciate it.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: a bit of drunkenness, a mention of inner child healing, oc teases jungkook and oc is horny as fuck, dom/sub dynamics, wine!jk, provider jk..., daddy issues, punishment, spanking, food used during intercourse, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, a mention of a sex toy & a mention of a plushie in a sexual context, raw sex, brattiness, jk and oc smoke together

note: OH GOD—IT'S FINALLY HERE. SLFJSLDFJS. A REQUESTED DRABBLE about wine!oc and jungkook. this was so fucking fun to write and i was so hot and bothered from this that i had to take a break............ yeah uhm anyways, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. ENJOY READING AND LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ANONYMOUSLY IN MY INBOX. I NEED YOUR THOUGHTS. PLS AND THANK YOU. ₊˚⊹♡

side note: jk in the first pic made me fucking die. and other things....

The rosy pink nectar has, undeniably, gone to your head. 

Your empty wine glass is illuminated by the setting sunlight spilling past your shoulder, reaching its yellow, warm fingers to the tips of your boyfriend’s that rest lazily on the white cloth of the table. You’re woozy, in a lighthearted mood—so much that even the world has lost its heft and all you can sense is the sluggish process of your absorption. You’re engrossed in the way the spring coalesces with the beginning of summer—in the warm evening wind ruffling your curls, tickling your bare shoulders, in the darkening hues of the sky, pinks and violets, in the gray smoke of Jungkook’s cigarette interlacing with the slightly sultry air. You can see it in his eyes, the unfolding of it all. And perhaps you’re tipsy or perhaps you’re just brazenly and foolishly falling in love, because you’re aware that if the man weren’t sitting in front of you, none of these things wouldn’t have caught your attention in such a devastatingly profound way. 

He has made you feel so safe. By simply and beautifully laying his feelings bare. To you and for you. Created a haven for you to dwell in, for you to grow in and explore all the dark and light corners of you that have merely seldom seen the face of the sun. How could you not indulge in a little bit of alcohol, when you’re protected in that place of security? Let your girlishness swim a little, refresh herself, enjoy herself?

You’re glowing. You always had been, but your shimmers have gained a new intensity to their twinkles, keeping Jungkook’s liquid stars warm and taken care of inside of you. Their blunt points have carved you into someone else entirely, too. Joyous, cool-headed and absolutely and irrevocably self-assured. Fearless. And his hands have reached deep within and caressed the head of your inner child, healing her and washing her clean, giving her everything she ever lacked. Love, attention, care and validation. Whenever you remember that you never wanted him to get a glimpse of your soul, bile rises in your throat and your stomach hurts.

He saved you. Healed you. Through and through. Gave you his control.

It stirs your never-ending awe that he has managed to do this in a month, and you want to celebrate it. You think now is quite the perfect occasion for it as it’s your first dinner date since you’ve become exclusive. Having spent most of your time at each other’s places fucking, partying and fucking some more, it’s nice to be out, alone with him, that is—and it’s nice as fuck to be out with your boyfriend. The sex has become so different with the label and the rawness of his feelings. And the thing about Jungkook that gets you the most, that strengthens the realm he invented for you, is that once his emotions overflow, the stream of its wine doesn’t stop pouring. The moment he confessed his love for you, ever since then you sense it expressed in everything he does—in the way he greets you in the day, in his tight, burning embrace, in the tenderness with which he holds your hand or kisses it, the relentless, great thought and consideration he puts in the choices he makes for you on the daily. Whether it’s the fatuous things he buys you that mean the world to you, the way he never neglects bunny and incorporates her in everything you do together or… the sex. 

Fuck, the sex alone has taken over your life so vividly and drastically that it consumes your brain. There, in that environment, is where the wine of his emotions is the raciest. He’s not ashamed to cry, letting those liquid pearls trickle down your collarbones, quenching the thirst of his liquid stars as he fucks you dumb and enjoys every second of it. He’s not afraid to be loud either. To talk you through your orgasm with even more care and detail than you were accustomed to in the past. 

He’s become boundless. And it’s the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 

God, you’d be crazy not to let yourself fall for him—

“I got you dessert,” Jungkook husks, digging his fingers into the pocket of his pants while his other digits draw close to his mouth. He takes a drag of his cigarette, crinkling his eyes so the smoke wouldn’t get into them and you beam at him with a fire that’s more scorching than the sun’s ever been in centuries, heart doing somersaults at the thought of him thinking of you and spending money on you again. And, also, at how hot he looks while he smokes.

Your love language must be gift-giving. You don’t know what else to connect it to, the joy that envelops your entire being whenever he gives you something. It doesn’t even have to be expensive, nor does he have to pay for it at all. Drawings have become your favorite keepsakes—drawings of his Miffy bunny, drawings of flowers, of you. You’ve hidden them away in a box along with everything he’s ever brought you, except the white bunny ring because you wear it daily and one small, particular drawing that you’ve put inside your glittery phone case. 

A cutesy marker sketch of him and you. His arm around your shoulders. Bunny sitting on your laps in the middle, as if she were your own child. Cheeks big and bubbly, pink and twinkling. Your curls the way you wear them; his mullet. A perfect depiction of the pair of you. You gaze at it every single day—prefer to now put your phone face down because of it. 

You’re tracing it now with the pad of your finger as you wait for him to reveal your mystery gift to you. The bulby heads, the cheeks, Miffy’s ears. Jungkook puts out his cigarette, puffing out the smoke, away from you, and once he’s done, he taps the back of your hand. Turns it over and spreads out your fingers, inserting, at a snail's pace, something round but slender at the same time, smiling adoringly at you. 

What a sight to behold. It steals, fleetingly, your attention away from his hand. 

Slicked back mullet, twinkles taking laps in his soft eyes, blushed cheekbones and stretched, pouty mouth, shiny with his liquid love. Long neck that you’d like to devour now, the broadness of his shoulders and chest that could come second as a plain, dark beige shirt accentuates his hard work at the gym. 

Oh, fuck. Your nipples pebble against your carmine tube top. 

Jungkook withdraws his hand and with blurry eyes, you look at the thing he placed in your palm. 

Chupa Chups. Strawberry and cream. 

Your mouth parts and it’s a concoction of a gasp and a sound of endearment when the realization that he got you a lollipop sinks in. Your heart flips and does a head stand. Lips round into a pout, drunk eyes softening, its twinkles growing in size and light. It’s like he gave you something golden, when in fact it costs a few wons, but to you it’s exactly that. Something so precious. 

You give him an air kiss, bouncing in your seat in joy, fingers already destroying the wrapper. “Thank you so…”

Your brows furrow as the wrapper remains intact. You do a bad, bad job of picking at the tape around the slender stick, your long manicured hands absolutely useless—and the cause of your frustration. You puff out an angry gust of breath, trying harder to get to the sweet delight and it’s at that moment that your boyfriend takes it from your hands with a deep chuckle. 

“You silly boo, this is how you do it.” Jungkook pinches the wrapper around the stick and he merely, in a few swift motions, twists the ball until it lets go. He scrunches it in his fists and throws it away in the ashtray. Smirks smugly, leans his elbows on the table, draws close to you. You mirror his position, get to him almost nose to nose, and his smirk deepens, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. You do the same, eyeing the round pinkness in his hand, the sexual attraction and its tension soaring high between you.

Without your hands, you could put it in your mouth, mimic the way you do it on his own tip and make him lose his mind a little bit. It’s right here, an inch away and you dip your head towards it, a magnetic pulling drawing you naturally to it. Sense his gaze on you, sense his delight, sense the flashback glimmering across the wholeness of him. But before you could wrap your lips around it, he moves it out of your reach. 

“No,” Jungkook murmurs, breath slightly ragged, holds it up in front of your face, watches as you go cross-eyed a little bit. Hums at the sight, quietly enough for only you to hear. “If you want it, ask for it nicely.” 

His puffy lips being so close to you, you desire to kiss him—cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink, his oh-so-loved dominance fucking with your drunkenness and your brain, body altogether. You tip your head to the side, flutter your lashes, make your eyes big and smile at him as sweetly as you can. 

He coos, validating you, and it is a force that makes you feel safe enough to submit to him like a small animal to its father. Safe enough to want to get under the table and make him feel really, really good, too. 

“Can I have the lollipop, please?” 

He groans, still quietly, and your panties drench immediately. You widen your eyes at him, feeling your slick, pursing your lips to scold him silently. He just laughs, amused by it all, and the sound of his joy fills you with elation.

One that darkens, when he asks, “Where?” 

You lick your lips, taking in the question, struck by it. Letting your mind wander, the places where you want it, except your mouth, is on your nipples and your clit. Nicely sweet and sticky—for him to clean up, for him to enjoy. Your dewiness soaks the material of your panties and your body begins to yearn for any kind of friction. You’re not sure whether you’re able to stick around in your chair, acting as if nothing’s wrong—acting as if you’re not stupendously horny. 

“In my mouth.” 

Jungkook makes a noise of appreciation and you’re so frustrated by all those sounds he makes that you want to dig your nails in his arms and make him pay for it. Even more so, when he plunges the lollipop into his mouth and his lips pucker around it, inciting the butterflies in your tummy to go absolutely fucking berserk. You place your hand on his bicep, nails ready to attack, but then he pulls out the treat with a pop, angling it at your mouth. 

“Open.” 

You thought he stole it from you, but he did no such thing. He wetted it for you, like a father for its child. You’re stupefied to the point that you don't even realize that you’re leaving a mark on the linen material of your seat. 

You do open your mouth for him, however. 

He twists the ball on your tongue, expecting you to close your mouth around the stick, but you don’t. No, you swirl that muscle around the candy, deepening your gaze, smirking. Jungkook stills, clenches his strong jaw. Darkness flicks across his eyes and he narrows them. First warning. 

You pretend you don’t see it. 

Closing your mouth and encasing your hand around his, you move the lollipop to the side of your cheek, acting as if it were his dick. And when you bob your head once, Jungkook tugs on the stick, wanting to pull it out, but you don’t let him, keeping it caged between your teeth. It only drives you to bob your head again.  

“Stop,” he says, voice calm, deep and serious—terribly deadly. Withdraws his hand and leans back, watching you with a predatory gaze, one that makes you even wetter. “Or we’re going home.” 

That’s exactly what you want. Instructions clear. 

You open your mouth and do a show of swirling your tongue around the ball, only this time you flick the muscle against it. Jungkook grips the table, knuckles white, and you laugh, which you soon realize was a grave mistake. 

“You think it’s funny?” he questions you, staring you down with a look that should frighten you, but it merely turns you on. You suck on the lollipop, the dulciness of strawberries suffusing your senses. “I’ll bend you over this fucking table, lift up that slutty little skirt and spank you in front of everyone.” 

You pull out the candy with an exaggerated pop. Scowl at him. As though his words didn’t affect you the way that they did—as though you’re not squeezing your thighs together, trying to gain that friction you so desperately need. “Why are you so angry?” 

He looks away for a moment, laughing silently. Nods his head at your wine glass. “You finished with your wine, baby?” 

It’s this pleasantness that you hear in this voice that spreads goosebumps across your skin. Feigned sugariness—the sunlight right before the clouds come in and thunder strikes; the calm before the storm. 

Good thing you’re dressed for the rain and ready to sing in it. 

You nod your head and Jungkook clicks his tongue, grabs you by your hand whilst he pulls out his wallet. You accompany him as he walks over to the bar, black card ready between his fingers. Waits to be noticed. Gives you a look over and fixes your skirt, pulling the hem down. 

Pays for you. Smiles down at you as he pockets his wallet. 

And then, he drags you to his car. 

Perhaps it’s the fresh air, perhaps it’s the briskness in his walk and the tight hold around your hand, but all intoxication evaporates from your body, leaving only your stained elation and neediness. You can’t help your smile. Think it must be sewn in at this point. By his own diligent fingers. 

A wind blows in, pulling your hair to your front and Jungkook pins you against his car. Tits squished against the passenger side, elbows pressed together. Eyes wide, you check your surroundings and find no one in sight. Only swaying trees, buildings of apartments, lamps illuminating the dark street. You relax right away, trusting Jungkook that he’s on the lookout and knows what he’s doing. 

He grinds his hips against your backside and you moan at the feeling of his hard length. With his free hand, he brushes your hair to one side and begins to pepper kisses along the curve of your neck, nuzzling his face in. Hovers his lips above your ear when he says, “You feel how hard you made me with your little show?” You nod, quickly, wanting more of him, wanting him inside of you. Push your hips back; twirl them in slow circles. Jungkook hisses. “I guess you really do want that spanking. Where’s your lollipop?” You show him your hand, where your treat remains uneaten and dry. He takes it from you and you turn your head in time to see him sink it into his mouth, placing it on the side of his mouth like you did. “Get inside the car.” 

Jungkook opens the door for you and forces you in, closing it with a harsh thud. As he rounds the vehicle, he makes eye contact with you and your tummy flips in response. 

Fuck. 

Nothing happens in a millisecond once he’s seated, but then he grabs your cheeks, squishing them in the way he likes, and kisses you hard, lollipop in hand. Moving his mouth against yours, his tongue only briefly greets you before he pulls away. “Naughty fucking girl. You’re lucky that I love you because otherwise…” He doesn’t finish his sentence with words, but with another kiss, breathing against you, grunting when it’s you this time that slips the tongue inside, playing with him the same way you played with the dessert he got you. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me. I’m gonna put you in your fucking place, make you remember how to behave in public. You’ve forgotten, haven't you?” 

You don’t have time to react, you merely bite your lip so hard that it aches. Jungkook pushes you back and yanks your leg between his, lifting your skirt. Then, he hovers his palm above your ass, the other forearm resting on the top of the seat, lollipop dangling near your head. He hides his smirk behind his effort to flatten his lips. 

And when he spanks you, you don’t roll your eyes back and rasp like your body naturally wants you to. No, you hold the eye contact and you take the pain, letting it course through your body, reveling in it. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps going, alternating between slapping your now reddened cheeks and the back of your thigh. Doesn’t even stroke the skin to alleviate the burn. He solely bores his gaze into yours, his cock rock hard against your leg. Another set of words are exchanged, silently, deeply, teaching you your lesson in tandem with the hits, burying it to a great depth inside you. 

And then he finishes with a nasty kiss, but his hand resumes causing you pain. You’ve lost count of how many spanks you’ve taken. 

It’s like you’ve woken up from a trance. It reverberates throughout your entire body and it’s now that you allow your body to vocally react. You whine, rounding your mouth in a pout, so different from the one on the dinner date. And you remember your manners—perceive how wrong it was to tease him, even though a good half of you still takes delight in it. 

“It hurts,” you whisper, nudging your lips against him and he gives you your last spank—the hardest of them all. The infliction makes you flutter your eyes shut and Jungkook brings them back to him by caressing his knuckles down your flushed cheek. 

“Good, you remember how to behave now?” he asks, halting his movement, such piercing intensity in his irises that drive you to nod your head. “That’s my good little girl.” Taps the side of your thigh. “Let Daddy make it better now.” 

You open your legs for him and Jungkook pushes your soaked panties to the side, revealing your little bedewed seashell. He hums at the sight of her, pops the lollipop back inside his mouth. Collects your arousal by swirling the pads of his middle and ring finger around your hole, eyes flicking from your pussy to your own, groaning when he comes into contact with your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles. You whimper, bucking your hips, needing him to go faster, needing to come. 

Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. “You take what I give you or I’ll stop.” Lifts his hand to express the gravity of his threat and you help, wrapping both hands around his and putting it back on your bundle of nerves. He chuckles at your desperation, giving you the same circles, though now firmer. 

Waves the lollipop near your lips. You open your mouth, instinctively, and he plunges it into your mouth for a mere second before he pulls away, growling at the sound that comes out. He does it again, fucking you with it in a way, just to hear that pop and he’s so pleased with it that he sinks those two fingers inside your heat, fully, in one ego. Keeps them there. Teases you. Hovers the lollipop out of your reach and you decide to fuck with him back. Darting out your tongue, you whirl it around the flat side and he swears, moaning, giving to you at last. 

He latches his mouth onto your neck, starting the drill of his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” 

He picks up the speed so rapidly that you scream, squeezing your eyes shut, the pleasure permeating your body so vastly that you quiver all over. Grab a hold of his hair, pulling on it and then—

Then, he withdraws his fingers. Ruins your orgasm. 

You pant, trying to catch your breath. “Please, Jungkook, please—”

He nudges his nose against yours. “What, baby?” 

“I need to come, please.” 

Jungkook tuts, kissing you once. “I thought we could play.” Plunges the lollipop into your mouth to wet it. Shows it to you, just to see you go cross-eyed again. Moans. “Where do you want it, hm?” 

Ever the angel that makes your fantasies come to life. You wrap your fingers around his hand, butterflies swarming in your tummy. Lead him towards your still clothed breasts. “Here.” Take him to your drooling pussy. “And here.” 

Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Descends his fingers a little lower, to your other hole, circles it. “What about here?” 

You giggle, but you shake your head. The idea may be intoxicating, however reality is much different. There’s a risk to putting any sweetened food inside, one you don’t want to deal with. 

Jungkook smiles at you, pushes your seat back and slides it in the same direction. Crawls over you and you feel so feminine, so sexy underneath him. Nipples perked under your top, breasts full and spilling. You arch your back towards him and Jungkook drags his thumb from your bottom lip, to your chin, neck, the dip of your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your Tom and he tugs it down so harshly that you can’t contain your very own concoction of a gasp and moan. 

Lollipop in mouth, one hand propped by your head, the other squeezes your breast hard, nearing it, fingers pinching your nipple. Makes the flesh as red as your ass. You can tell he likes the view by the way he coos, but then he wipes all your thoughts away, when he sucks hard on the candy and swirls it around your stiffened nub, gaze flicked to yours to watch your reaction. 

The pleasure is so vivid, so dizzying—and for him, you let it paint your face in all its colors. Brows scrunched, bedroom eyes, mouth parted, puffing out desperate breaths. Jungkook sucks it again and smears his saliva around your other nipple, taking his time, slapping the ball once against it, making you hiss. 

“It feels so good,” you murmur, sinking your fingers into the longer length on the back of his hair, bringing his mouth to yours. You kiss him with a verve that causes him to groan. You swallow that sound, satisfied. 

He grins at you. “I bet.” 

Dips his head and envelops that sugar-coated nub with his warm lips, sucking it hard. His groan spreads there, deepens there and you arch your back even more, pulling his head to your other nipple so he can do the same thing. Join your other hand to his hair and do whatever you please—turn his head side to side, from one nub to the other—and he lets you, giving you, momentarily, his control. You feel your essence soaking the seat beneath you and you thank the heavens that the fabric is one of leather. You lift his head and try to push it down, but he won’t budge. Stares you down instead, lustfully. 

“Where do you want me?” he asks, a wrinkle between brows. “Be a good girl and tell me.” Pops the lollipop back in his mouth.

You sigh, kissing him once on the side of his neck, using your tongue. Make sure you’re looking at him as you reply, “On my clit.” 

He moans, eyes woozy, finger on the stick as he sucks the candy, clefts of dimples on either side of his cheeks. You palm his length, your own digits rounding across his tight balls and he whisks his irises back, grinding into your hand. “You want a lickie?” 

“Yes, so bad, please.” 

He hums and kneels before you, kissing your clit once in greeting. Then, he flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe across your whole femininity—from your slit, to your swollenness. Hands on your hips, index curled around the lollipop, he holds you steady, prevents you from meeting him, as he stimulates you like this. Up and down, tongue rolling, eyes fixed on you, devouring you. And when he stops to suck your clit, he taps your mouth once with the ball of the lollipop. The act of sucking on something while you’re getting pleasured like this almost throws you over the edge, your body coated in a layer of sweat, but Jungkook withdraws in time. Presses the delight in the middle and rubs small circles, just to prepare you for the big thing. You become so whiny, so loud that his eyes grow in size, watching you in awe. 

To reward you for such beauty, he rapidly strums it from side to side, causing you to nearly levitate, but he pins you down. Wetting it and placing it back down, grunting at the aftertaste of you mixed with the sweetness. 

And he can’t resist. Can’t hold back. The wrinkle between his brows deepens when he tastes you, licking you all over, tongue stopping occasionally its feast to flick at your clit before he swallows you whole. Grunts, sucks, licks. Eyes closed to savor the taste. The pressure in your core heightens, even more so when he lifts your legs, greedy for the side dish in the form of your other hole. You’re so close that you might burst. 

“You taste so fucking good, baby. So sweet. Come on my tongue, please, I want more of you.” 

He wants more of your taste. 

You come so hard that your orgasm takes you to an open sea, your body floating on calm waves, to and fro, eyes rolled to the sky—to the sunroof—seeing nothing but the elegance of the twinkling stars and deep purple clouds. 

“That’s it, baby, so good. That’s my little girl.” He slaps the side of your thigh, bringing you back to him. “Listening so well, learning her lesson, coming so hard. I’m proud.” 

His words alone could make you come again, but you’re distracted.

Jungkook unbuttons his pants and pulls out his manhood. Stroking himself, he lines his tip at your mouth. He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up—you do it yourself. Holding it at the base, he stuffs your throat right away, a guttural chuckle emitting out of his mouth when you gag. He pulls out to where you’re comfortable having him and you begin to bob your head, like you did with the lollipop. 

“Yes, suck it like that, my love. Daddy loves it when you do that.” 

His precum on your tongue, the way he’s holding himself, the position and his words—you moan around him, so out of your mind, so fucked out. And when he fucks your mouth, it turns you on so much that you go cross-eyed. 

Jungkook pulls out quickly, as if the sight of it alone was about to make him come. A string of your saliva from his tip drips onto your chest and he slides into your mouth again just to poke your cheek, just to mimic what you did with the lollipop. You whine, liking it so much, to the point that he drills this tender place of yours until he can’t take it enough. 

“Turn around.” You try to, but your legs are jelly. He manhandles you to the position he wants—on your knees, tits against the leather, arms around the headrest, the formerly abused cheek against it. “Hold onto it. Too bad we left bunny at home, huh?” 

Jungkook runs his cock across your pussy and you grind against it, needing the friction after the way he used you. You whimper for him. “She’s probably wondering where we are right now and why we’re taking so long.” 

“I’ll make it up to her.” He presses his length against your clit, encouraging you to use him back. “Rub your pussy like that on me, fuck.” He moves so it’s his tip that stimulates you. You ride him harder, moaning loudly against the leather. “You can make it up to her, too. Can ride her like I know you can. With a vibrator between your legs and hers, hm? How you like the sound of that?” 

You’re so close you could come in a second, but you don’t want it like this. You need him inside of you. “Shut up, I’m literally gonna come like this. Fuck me.” 

He fists your hair. Pain shoots up your scalp and he ruts into your heat. Fully. Until his pelvis collides with your ass. You scream. 

Lips by your ear. “Is this how you talk to your Daddy?” He begins to pump into your little tight hole. Mercilessly. The leather squeaks, a horrible, rapid sound that you can only faintly hear because all that your senses can focus on is his cock. “Your Daddy that loves you so much?” 

You come, pathetically. Sea and waves, palm trees that sway. Your legs tremble, but he keeps going, mouthing the shape of your ear. 

He tsks. “I’m gonna tell bunny on you. Maybe I’ll be the one who gets to fuck her while you watch.” He gives you a hard stroke, one that is followed by rapid thrusts that scramble your brain. “She’ll be so disappointed to hear how bad you’ve been, but I’ll make sure to tell her how hard I fucked it out of you.” 

Lifting you from the leather, he kneads your breasts, placing the lollipop in between and holding it up by squishing them. 

“Come on, get your lollipop.” He bounces your tits in his hands, signalizing you that he wants you to do it with your mouth. 

But you can’t do it. You come, majestically, your senses leaving you and wafting in the stuffed air of the car. Boneless, you sag in his arms. 

Jungkook coos. “You come so well around me that I’ll be good to you. You’re just a cockslut, aren’t you, baby? You just can’t help it, hm?” He puts the lollipop inside your mouth, chasing his so-needed release. 

It doesn’t take long for him to find the footsteps into that bliss that you left in your wake. He holds you like this, against him, tits spilling over his forearms as he jackhammers into you so hard that your whole body bounces, shakes and reacts to each grunt, to each whimper, to each kiss he presses onto your skin. 

With the little of the brain you have left, you decide to talk him through it—because he fucks you so good. 

“Come for me, Daddy, yes, please, fuck. Fill me up with your cum. I want it so bad, I want to feel you—” His cock twitches in you, but he continues, sloppily. “Yes, so good. That’s it. Come for your little girl, Jungkook.” A loud groan. A tight hold. A spurt of his cum inside your walls. You whimper and he fucks it deeper into you, giving you more of his liquid stars. “Jungkook, oh fuck, Jungkook, oh yes.” 

And it’s that never-ending litany of his name that helps him chase his high to the fullest. He kisses your neck hard in gratitude for helping him come, marking you, marking this memory. 

You stay like this for a little while. Sweaty, sticky, spent, breathing hard—lungs synced. 

A warm announcement sneaks to your heart, one that screams it into the drowsy skies once Jungkook pulls out of you, turns you around and, stealing your candy, kisses you. 

An announcement that you’re deeply and irrevocably in love with him. 

“You sounded just like me.” He finishes your lollipop for you, chewing the small bulby head as he dresses you and his cum spills onto your panties. 

Your smile is dopey, satisfied and you’re ready for sleep to take you, but Jungkook gets out of the car for a smoke. You think you need one, too, after what you’ve experienced together, and so you follow him out into the night on wobbly legs. 

He leans against his car, a cigarette in his mouth, one hand cupping the fire as he flicks his lighter to life. You wait until he puffs out the smoke into the air before you fold into the side of his body, stealing his cigarette and inhaling it, giving it back to him. 

Jungkook pats your head, rubbing your scalp, chin propped on it. “I didn’t mean what I said. You were perfect. I’m not telling shit to bunny, I promise.” 

You smile, fondly. Didn’t take his words seriously, not at all, but you’re grateful for the reassurement regardless. It’s just role-play, nothing else. 

“I know, baby,” you say, softly, massaging his stomach, going as far as under his shirt to feel his bare skin—ever so innocently. 

“I wanted to fuck you the moment you sat down. You’re just my little helper and because of that I’m glad we’re going home with my cum in your panties,” he whispers, placing the cigarette on your lips, so you can take a drag. “You deserve every drop.” 

You feel that familiar ache rooting in your core again, but you don’t think you can take another round. Jungkook lifts your chin, making you look at him. Twinkles, bigger than the ones of the stars up above, living in his soft eyes. That cute nose. Those pouty lips. His silky, dreamy heart that looks out for you and puts you first. 

The three words that you’ve never told him before rise up your body and you think now is the perfect occasion to say them. 

“I love you.” 

Wetness coats his eyes and the twinkles broaden, saturating them with an unfathomable, fulging light. He flicks his cigarette away, presses you closer to him and with his now free hand, he cups your face. Kisses you. For a long, long time. 

“I love you.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

[paperultra]

hammock.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 866 words Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive

“You’re blushing.”

“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”

You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.

“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.

His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”

“Not even if you hated me?”

“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”

“That’s awful.”

“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”

(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)

Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.

Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”

He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”

The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.

“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”

The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.

You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.

“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”

“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”

“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”

“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”

He visibly droops. “I know.”

“Good.”

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”

The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.

You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.

“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”

“Is that what you really want to do?”

“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)

“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.

With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.

“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”

“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”

Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."

“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”

“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”

The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.

“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”

#one piece #opla #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #slightly suggestive bc of the comment sanji makes at the end haha #sorry for the delay in requests i was in an accident yesterday and life things are happening so !! #i am posting this which has been in my drafts for a little bit

[anantaru]

i haven’t stopped thinking abt wrio like,,, bodyguard wrio,,, underground fighter wrio,,, hate sex wrio,,, god help me

cw. bodyguard wriothesley, overprotective, possessive & dom, fem! reader

bodyguard wriothesley who likes to leave you staggering on the edge of a spinning insanity when he intentionally addresses you as "sweetheart", "princess" or "my lady" whenever he follows your orders, and it really doesn't matter to him where the both of you would currently be— if, lets assume, a quick shopping spree around fontaine or something more to his own liking, such as having you pushed down on a bed by your hips, parting your legs with his knee as large hands easily slide and secure around your waist.

bodyguard wriothesley who makes your mouth fall open on a hard, broken gasp when he swiftly traps you in place right under his strong frame, spurring you into immediate action by a dirty comment such as, "you're so sensitive, my lady." was in fact, a deep sort of satisfaction that gets you to ease up and forget yourself for a second, or the obvious fact that you're currently fucking your own personal bodyguard and that it might not be the best out of all your ideas, yet it still feels so fucking fine when he does it.

and archons, does he know what to do to keep you spiraling into euphoric bliss.

bodyguard wriothesley who adores whenever you tumble over your little, pathetic mewls when he pushes his fat tip inside of you for the very first time this night, and he notices how you're tightening up a bit when he adds another inch and spits on your cunt to have you all wet and nice, deep drags penetrating your most delicious spots while you're still loose enough that wriothesley can rub over your pulsating walls splendidly, tasting the soft clench of a warm, sore pussy on his throbbing girth.

bodyguard wriothesley who hooks up a smile at you, pearly whites grabbing your attention, admiring just how unbelievably cute you were— his boss, his princess and he could spend his entire day fucking you just the way you wanted it, with his dripping dick shafting through your pussy, manhandling you while plunging his lips against your tits to attach his hungry mouth to your nipples.

and how good you were, ah what a sight, able to swallow his cock, despite its size, working your sopping insides into the vast shape of his length so you're all marked up for him, because do keep in mind for a second— he was the one protecting you, and he would lie to himself if he'd say he couldn't become a little too possessive every now and then, while watching out that no one would bother you, no guy talk to you and wriothesley loved taking care of your needs, in many more ways than an outside person would assume— whilst all the others who even dared to look your precious, enticing way?

they aren't even half as tall as him, half as strong as him or most importantly, half as good in bed as him— the man was confident that no other was able to make you scream and enjoy yourself just the way he did.

and you were aware of that, sometimes cursing yourself as to why you let it go on for so long and be that unprofessional— but then he's here to quickly make you regret nothing at all— with your mind hanging in the clouds, still blank and the loud blows of gluttonous moans and your sexes bumping against each other, that you'd never ever feel more protected by any other individual, only him, your hands swiftly finding flaming solace in his soft locks when you hide yourself in his warm neck, pressing frenzied smooches around his defined shoulder as wriothesley groans out deep, "fuck— princess!", sensing how you're about to lose yourself to a high.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut