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#maybe something flowery??
flowerygarrland · 1 day
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Well
Im the nervous type of gay so heres eepy under a cut bye
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whiteshipnightjar · 4 months
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Joanna Newsom in 2023
+ a non visual but descriptive bonus
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starrynightarchive · 3 months
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so you're trying to tell me that dazai- "suicide song"- osamu didn't have marina as his top artist on spotify even once. are you hearing yourself.
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kirkwallguy · 3 days
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can i get your mary having Realizations. maybe at the day of her wedding?
omg TY for this prompt i love talking about mary but very rarely actually write about her. this stumped me for a little while because everything that happens at her wedding requires SOO much context that i had no idea how to start, and it felt ooc to just have cullen suddenly do something so terrible. so here's him and mary just kind of sucking in unique and strange ways. this takes place juust before the wedding when everyone is beginning to gather at the winter palace.
mild tw for vomit mention and templar ptsd-esque nightmares (???).
Mary awoke in Cullen's arms. Their bed at the Winter Palace was bigger and softer than any she'd ever slept in - she and Cullen gravitated towards the middle of the feather mattress together, leaving a large indent that would inevitably linger after they crawled out of it in the morning, waiting for their return later that evening.
Cullen never looked more like a Templar than when he was sleeping. It was strange - Mary had heard (and, she was ashamed to admit, read in Varric's romance novels) that people were supposed to look innocent in sleep. Haunted heroes became innocent boys, creased foreheads smoothed, racing thoughts slowed.
But Cullen's brow remained creased as he dreamed. He muttered to himself, kicked, scratched, growled like a dog. Sometimes, he frightened Mary. She'd cling to him in the dark, heart pounding, as he whispered cruel words at some imagined threat that taunted him behind his eyelids.
Were all Templars like this? Were there thousands of people all across Thedas just like her? People who lay awake with their palms flat against their lovers' sweaty backs, thanking the Maker that they weren't born a mage? Was she just unlucky? Or was this, as Hawke had darkly insinuated that final time they'd spoken, exactly what she deserved?
According to Varric's stories, Mary had a duty here. She was Cullen's reward at the end of a difficult road, a symbol of all he had lost and gained. She was supposed to comfort him, to soothe and fix his troubled soul - her arms designed to wrap around him like bandages, her kiss the perfect antivenom.
But on nights like this, when she pressed her lips to his twitching cheek, the taste of stale sweat always made her draw back with disgust.
One night early in their relationship, Cullen had drunk far too much and vomited all down himself. Shuddering and crying, he'd reached out for comfort. The smell of his breath, beer and vomit mingling together, had made Mary turn and run, leaving him alone on the floor in his own filth. The next morning, he'd kissed her chastely on the cheek at breakfast and his breath had smelled of peppermint.
It was easy to resent him for drinking like that. Many women resented their men for drink.
"Drink doesn't make men into beasts," her mother had whispered to her one night before bed, not loud enough to cover her father's heavy snores in the next room, "it just tells us which ones have beasts hiding inside them."
After that, she'd spent years of her childhood trying to see who did and didn't have a beast inside of them. She wasn't sure about her father - if he was a beast, he was nothing but an old bear, loud but too tired and lazy to do any harm. A few of the Chantry Mothers, the ones who would rap her on the knuckles when she giggled during the Chant, seemed to have dragons inside of them. The men who fought outside the taverns late at night were wolves, howling at the moon with their hackles up. And the girl in the portrait that hung above the fireplace in Mary's bedroom stared at her with the eyes of a songbird.
Cullen had something inside of him as well, but Mary wasn't sure if it was a beast. A beast, after all, could be killed.
As his dreams became more violent, so did his body. He writhed in her arms, as if a demon was taking over him. Mary held him tighter.
"She'll regret it," he muttered, "she'll be sorry soon."
Mary shuddered. Trying to distract herself, she traced the muscles in his back with a morbid fascination, feeling as they shifted and bulged unnaturally. If she'd been a healer, she might have understood how muscles worked - the violent snap and pull of them beneath her fingers might have been cause for gentle concern rather than a sensation that revolted her. But the inner workings of the human body were as good as witchcraft.
Cullen groaned, "kill it," he said, so loud that Mary squeezed her eyes shut and prayed that nobody else could hear, "kill it now!"
Whatever he was dreaming of terrified him. He cried out and twitched, kicking Mary hard enough in the shin that she yelped and pushed him away roughly enough to wake him up.
Cullen's eyes flew open. He stared directly at Mary, panting.
"Oh, thank the Maker," he whispered.
Mary stared back at him, keeping her eyes half closed as if she'd just woken up, "hmm?"
He looked like was going to cry. To Mary's horror, his trembling lips embarrassed her; she edged away from him a little, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"I was dreaming," Cullen said, "it was just a dream. A terrible dream."
Mary didn't respond. This was exactly how this scene played out in every single one of Varric's stories. She swallowed her disgust and reached out to brush Cullen's hair from his sweaty forehead, almost gagging as her fingers met his wet skin.
"Just a nightmare." She agreed, hoping Cullen didn't notice how flat her voice was.
Cullen, Maker help him, closed his eyes at Mary's touch. He lay there and shook as she stroked his hair, tense shoulders beginning to relax. That innocence he lacked in sleep was plain on his face now - he looked like someone Mary had never met before, someone she wasn't sure she would ever meet again.
"What was the dream about?" She tried.
Opening his eyes, Cullen stared at her for a long moment. His gaze passed over her face, lingering on each detail for so long that she almost found herself blushing.
Only when Mary was sure that he'd forgotten she'd asked him a question did he answer her:
"You." He said.
It should have been a shock, should have made her blood freeze, but in that moment his answer seemed like the most logical thing in the world.
Mary continued to stroke his hair, "what happened to me?"
"You were possessed," Cullen closed his eyes again, sleepy, "an abomination."
"Did you kill me?"
He was halfway back asleep now. He leaned in closer and wrapped an arm around Mary's waist, "I did," he whispered, "I killed it."
And then he stuck his face into Mary's neck, his hair brushing her collarbone, and fell straight back asleep.
Mary didn't sleep again. She stayed awake, palms against Cullen's sweaty back, and thanked the Maker that she wasn't born a mage until the sun was high in the sky.
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uncanny-tranny · 10 months
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Could you describe your gender using words that are not typically used to describe one's gender?
The wave of exhilaration I got when I finally thought of a story I want to write after being burnt out for over five years, or maybe novels from the romantic movement or the decadent movement, for the latter it would primarily be the manner in which people spoke with each other in The Picture of Dorian Gray
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skyward-floored · 8 months
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For some reason I’m the type of sleepy right now that’s mostly just making me extra verbose
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pantestudines · 1 year
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maybe i’m insane but especially for academic purposes but also just in general... dry, clear, and concise technical writing that presents itself clearly (the ideal here being peer reviewed journal articles, though I recognize there is variability in those) is just so much easier to read and follow along with than news articles or websites made for the public. It takes me longer to understand the point of a national geographic article than it does the nature article it was written about. 
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I love making new blog themes and refusing to change my pfp
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deityofhearts · 1 month
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I literally designed one single cutie mark for my ocs and then never again just gave up
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keeksandgigz · 3 months
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somewhere we can be alone
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stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader
a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3
summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.
word count: 7.7k words
warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot
This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact
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He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.
“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”
He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.
“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.
The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.
He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.
“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”
And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.
“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.
“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.
The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.
Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.
He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.
Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.
“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.
A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”
Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.
He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.
He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.
“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.
“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?
Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.
The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.
“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.
Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.
“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.
You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.
“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”
With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.
Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”
His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.
Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.
Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.
He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.
And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.
Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.
So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.
Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX
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Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.
So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.
“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.
“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.
He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.
Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.
Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.
“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.
“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.
“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.
“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.
Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.
“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.
“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.
“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.
Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.
“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.
So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.
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Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.
But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.
So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.
By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.
“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.
You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.
“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.
Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.
You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.
“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.
“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.
“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.
“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.
“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.
“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.
“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.
“N-No,” you whimper.
“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.
“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.
“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”
You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.
You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”
You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”
Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”
His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.
Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.
He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.
From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.
“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.
“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.
“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.
“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”
“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.
“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.
His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.
“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.
“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.
So close, so close–
He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.
“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.
The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.
You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.
His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.
You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.
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And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.
If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.
Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.
You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.
“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.
“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.
“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”
You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?
“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.
A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.
“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.
“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.
“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.
He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.
“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.
“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”
And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.
That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”
Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.
His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.
He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.
“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.
“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”
He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.
“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”
You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.
“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.
And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.
You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.
“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.
So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?
He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.
Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.
You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.
Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.
He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.
“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.
“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.
Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.
“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.
“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.
“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.
“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.
“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.
“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.
“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.
Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.
“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”
You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.
It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.
“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.
You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.
But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.
“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.
“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.
“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.
You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.
“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.
“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.
You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.
As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.
Just you and him. In his van.
You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.
“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.
Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.
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Opening night. It’s finally here.
You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?
Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.
Break a leg Juliet xx.
You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.
You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.
“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.
You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.
“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.
“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.
“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.
“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.
“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.
“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.
You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”
“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.
“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.
“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.
“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.
You seem unconvinced, still.
“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.
Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.
“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.
“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.
His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”
You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.
A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.
He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.
He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.
A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.
A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.
Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.
A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.
“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.
You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.
“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.
“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.
You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.
“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.
A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.
“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.
Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.
“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.
Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.
You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.
You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.
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The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.
You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.
“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.
“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.
“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.
“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.
“So, how about that date?”
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thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski
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sashi-ya · 3 months
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑶𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑼𝑵ㅤㅤ january free requestsㅤ ㅤ trafalgar law x f! reader
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🕊️ request: @leftladyluminary ⋆。˚ Hello ( ^ω^ ) I was wondering if I could request a Law x fem!reader exploring a temple together that turns out to be a uh “procreation” temple the strongly affects those who enter? Please and thank you~ (╹◡╹)♡ 🕊️ tw: mdni. raw, rough sex. vaginal. nipple play. pregnancy ideas implied. cream pie. wc: 1650 🕊️ masterlist
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Zou is a humid place, very muddy as well. Your boots are dirty, and your clothing soaking wet. Those “Eruption Rains” become pretty inconvenient throughout the day, but they are necessary.
“I shouldn’t have worn a white shirt…” you tell Law, crossing your arms over your breasts.
“I would say you shouldn’t have worn it without a bra, (Name)-ya” Law says, squeezing and twisting his hat to drain it from the excess of water.
You sit down on a rock. Was it really necessary to say such thing? At best he should be a little bit happy to see your body through semi see through fabrics. What Law has just said felt painful to you, to say the least.
“You are right, I’m sorry” you mumble, walking away to find a proper place to hide and change your clothes. You are sure the ones in your backpack are as wet as your current ones, but something darker will do to cover up.
When the rivers formed in what are usually trails on top of Zuneesha’s back are finally dried, you find a very interesting construction ahead. Curious, as always, you come closer to discover it is a shrine.
“What a beautiful place” you comment in awe. Law seems to be anywhere else. He is probably near, but not close to you.
Curious, you put a step inside the shrine. It isn’t necessarily different from the rest of the temples you have attended in this long journey of piracy. However, somehow in the aura feels unusual to you.
The scent of incense smells more flowery, sweet, maybe even a little bit spicy. The Vitreaux windows create incredible depictions of Orchids on the ground, as the sun filters its rains through them. And the altar has a very distinctive little statue that calls for your hand to touch.
“I wonder what’s this shrine about? What god is meant to be built for?  In fact, do Minks have gods?” you ask yourself, making mental notes to ask Wanda once you are back from your expedition.
Your eyes scan the golden sculpture, it looks like two creatures tangled into each other. You would lie if you said you didn’t think of them having sex, and in fact you giggle for your “witty” thoughts.
There isn’t much to discover besides what you have just seen, but a little sign engraved in an old piece of wood.
“you shall keep your blood flowing; the warriors of the Sun must never disappear; they will fight for freedom and unity during this dark night”
You smile; and immediately after reading you remember Luffy. Even Law recognizes he is as shiny as the Sun itself. You don’t really think much of the true meaning of the sign, and soon after find Law looking at you from the very entrance.
“I turned around and you were gone, I didn’t know where you were” he asks, still soaking wet like a cat left out in the rain and looking a little bit mad at you for disappearing.
You could have picked a fight; you probably could have just brushed it off. But neither of those were your reaction, and unconsciously you lift your arms to stretch. The white shirt, still soaking wet, kept the transparency and with that the show off of your hard nipples presented to Law in its full beauty.
“I’m sorry, I was looking for a place to change” you tell him, with a rather sexy tone.
Law’s sun burnt cheeks turn red, golden eyes widening, pupils getting bigger. The little hints of black eyeliner smudge on his already dark tinted under eyes, the juicy pale lips of your captain slowly separating.
“You thought of changing on a shrine? Getting naked on a temple, (Name)-ya?” he asks, coming closer to you as he lets his yellow bag fall on the floor. Law walks like a snow leopard, slowly, menacing, sexily…
You swallow. That’s not his usual self, not at least with you. He looks like he is about to fight you, or even hurt you.
“L-Law, I wanted to put on a shirt over this one so that my breasts won-“ you shut up, as he strikes you and pins you against the altar.
You put your arms back to get a grip of something as you lose balance. Your hand reaches something cold and tiny and immediately after, his warm inked hand falls on top of yours.
Both, at the same time, touch the little statue behind and it feels like a new energy begins to run through your veins. It doesn’t take you long to finally succumb into a lustful, inappropriate kiss. His hands, all over your waist, lift the wet shirt that’s begun to get hot and too heavy on your skin.
“I have no idea what force is making me do this, but believe me I am not mad about it, (Name)-ya” Law whispers, in between panting and with his lips grazing yours.
“I have no idea either, but don’t you dare stop…”
The Surgeon of Death attacks your lips once again, this time while freeing you completely from your wet coverings… even if, something else in you was getting wetter by the moment.
Maybe it was the force of doing something so incorrect, so unholy on a sacred place… or maybe it was your love? Or even, both? Who knows, perhaps it was something else but the more you kiss, the more your bodies slide down until your back hits the red carpet covered floor.
Law’s tattooed hands squeeze and play with your breasts, almost like a beast ready to engulf his prey. “You wanted me to do this, don’t you?” he asks, reaching for one of your hard nipples, kissing the erected surface and then trapping it with his lips.
“Honestly, yes. I missed your touch…” you moan, realizing you are finally able to indulge in sex. It’s been long enough since you could touch each other, since you could be this intimate.
“I know, I’m sorry…” he whispers, planting a soft kiss on your chest.
You know there is nothing to forgive, and immediately after you notice his stitched arm holding the weight of his body on top of you.
“Law… can I be on top this time?” you ask, kissing the scar of his biceps.
His golden eyes shine brightly, apparently he loved the question and nods energetically, even if he felt embarrassed seconds after for doing so.
Soon, you take his place, undressing him faster and straddling your hips on his lap. He is hard, and the grey underwear completely soaked let nothing to the imagination. Deliciously tempting, you feel the impulse to your use your mouth before anything else, but the need of having him inside you is stronger… something invisible is making you desire his seed would fill your womb on and on and on.
You lift your ass from his lap, just a little for your hand to pass through your moved to the side panties and his hardness.
Law gasps when he understands you are not there to waist time on any other type of pleasure that his dick deep inside you.
“Now? but I don’t- I don’t have prot-“ he stutters, fighting in between the need of fucking you rough and reproduction health matters.
“You don’t really need it, I want you raw and rough in me…” you purr, guiding his sex towards your dripping entrance.
Your labia devours his tip, engulfing it with a warm slippery sensation. Law’s neck muscles tense, his head gets thrown back, a moan escapes his lips that resonates all over the shrine.
You do the same as you let yourself fall on top of him for his shaft to be finally entirely inside you. A whine so loud that mixes with his, and it becomes never ending as you start to hump on top of him.
Your hips move up and down, back, and forth and also in circles. Law’s fingers carve marks on the side of your hips and sometimes travel to the small of your back to press you against him with divine force. His hips, who up until now where immobile as pleasure struck him harder than he could ever expected, begin to move too.
“Nggh… let me fuck you faster…” he moans, using all of his strength coming from his core to impale you harder and synchronized to the rhythm of your jumps. The sound of wet sweaty skin slapping against the other become a sacred melody all around, while your nails carve marks as you grip from his heart tattooed pecs.
It doesn’t take you longer for your climaxes to arrive, and while your fingers intertwined with Law’s, your spasming walls milk him so violently… so needy, desperate for his release…
His frown intensifies, he even bites his lower lip but his eyes never shut as his pupils only fix into yours. As if his gaze was trying to anticipate something both knew, willingly to do whatever it takes to make his seed plant on you… deep, inside, of you.
“Fill me up…” “Keep it all inside…”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ...
“Wanda, may I ask you something?” you tap on her soft furry shoulder.
“Yes, honey. Tell me, what is it? Are you ok? You look very tired” the mink says, curious and perhaps a little worried about your state… truth Law wasn’t satisfied with just one round.
“So, I found a Shrine on the forest. It had a little statue; I didn’t get exactly what it was representing. But I remember reading a sign that said something about the warriors of the sun should prevail” you explain.
Wanda giggles. “Well, now I know why you are that tired… you went there with Trafalgar, didn’t you? it’s the procreation shrine, ruled by the sun lovers. That’s where we go to pray when we wanna bear children.. it said to be special forces that help us get pregnant”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Oh…”
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gangplanksorenji · 4 months
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Kinknuary Day 1: Breeding
Pairing: aespa Winter x Male Reader
Word Count: 4,471
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
A/N: Happy birthday to Winter!! This will be her birthday fic as it's intentional to put her as the introductory of the series since it's also her day!
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“God, that’s an awful one.”
It definitely wasn’t atrocious in your opinion, but it’s the opposite with her—she barely appreciated something that much about the movie and it’s nothing new, honestly. Minjeong is hard to impress, and it almost feels like a fever dream if she turned around, her interest piqued or even the slightest of a smile induced on that sternly, beautiful face of hers. You know a couple of things to break that attitude down in the slightest but nothing was ever close and you didn’t care about it because you’re treating her, not the other way around. Sure, she appreciates your efforts but you know it was never enough and you hate it.
“At least you’ve watched the movie I want, Minjeong.”
“But it’s horrible! At least I didn’t get bored by you rubbing my thighs—”
“Minjeong, not here! You damn know we’re still in public, right?”
On how many times you’d told her to calm her nerves down in public is how many times she’d disregarded your scolding, acting like the biggest brat and the most seductive vixen you’ve been with.
Your relationship with Minjeong… isn’t the best but god, it’s always a wild and interesting ride. 
For starters, it’ll be such a nuisance with all of the complaints and random whimpers from her in someone’s perspective and it is true, she’s truly annoying and hard to deal with—almost like a child trapped in a woman’s body. Yet, you got the grip of her and read her like a book, absolutely knowing what she loves and doesn’t but it’s not always the best of things coming to her end. 
She may seem like a douche but honestly, she's thoughtful and the complete opposite of that. It also doesn’t help the fact that she lived most of her life with such luxury that it’s almost peak-sophistication and even with you, she feels the same. 
With the days you're down, she’s there to comfort you as you do with her and that’s why you’ll always cherish every moment with her, even with the most embarrassing and the silliest ones.
Her perfect imperfections, it’s pristine and broken yet so beautiful…
“You can’t stop me, daddy.”
“Yeah, I can’t.” you mutter upon yourself as she’s trying to push your buttons once again. Knowing things may get out of control, you didn’t want to waste some time trying to deal with her and instead, coursed the way towards your vehicle, leading the way. With just mere two minutes of walking, you swiftly approached your vehicle, opening the front passenger door as a gentlemanly act towards Minjeong as she chuckled softly, flustered from your actions as you got onto your seat too in a rush.
“What do you want, Minjeong?”
“I’m just so tired, daddy—let’s just go home to your place. I love it there! It’s so cozy and it smells so fruity and flowery…”
And she’s luring you to fall into her trap again, probably. This wasn’t the plan all along—both of you should part ways after escorting Minjeong on her way home—yet there’s maybe something in her mind that can possibly worsen or make everything better even though it was.
As much as you can read her, she’s an unpredictable woman and that’s what makes her unique—unique enough for you to fall in love.
“Well, I thought you were going home? Isn't this enough?”
“Well—” Minjeong clicks her tongue, smiling not-so-sarcastically as she lets you know how serious she is with her decision. “—your Minjeongie changed her mind—and don’t tell me you don’t want me!”
Minjeong’s minuscule noise and tone of annoyance is as adorable as her pristine beautiful face, and you can’t help but giggle because of her cute act.
“Yah! I never said anything that I don’t want you—” You then kissed her cheek and ran your hands onto her silky dark-brown locks as she blushed from your subtle actions. She finds it endearing with you, reassuring her as she feels the utmost affection that she always loved. “—besides, I even love that idea better…”
“Stop it…” Minjeong lightly punches your shoulder as she feels weakened with your affection towards her. 
“Well, besides—” You adjust your position to further look into her with a better angle, further appreciating her flawless features and for you to have a better conversation with her. “—there’s no one is this world that can stop us, Minjeongie.”
Caress her hair playfully and then run your finger slowly down her cheek as you finish your sentence that implies the utmost adoration—
“I want you for me, tonight, and no else.”
Minjeong inches her face closer towards yours as her eyes scanned your face, her mouth curling up a smirk and her hand cupping your cheek gently, letting you know how she adores you too.
“I feel the same too… I want you and you only.”
Unable to contain the built-up intimacy from earlier, she initiated a torrid kiss in which you were caught off-guard but your instinct made you reciprocate quickly enough before you even truly noticed. Pecks and sounds of little-to-none discomfort, as well as pleasure can be heard resonating around the car. You feel yourself falling down to the deep abyss again, constantly drowning into the sea of intimacy yet you swim away, forcing yourself to pull out not because you’re out of breath but because you wanted to go home with Minjeong as soon as possible.
“But I wanted more!” 
“When we get to your place, we could spend the entire night doing this—or maybe even more, Minjeong…”
As much as wanted to disagree and derive you onto her wants, she can’t blame you with that as you absolutely had a point. Both are deprived of each other’s taste, and both of you want to savor it on full-comfort and ease—at Minjeong’s home.
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Scrambled and scuffed, probably the best way to describe Minjeong’s bedroom right now as the clothing is just everywhere—to god knows where they are and you absolutely didn’t care about it. The two of you didn’t want any foreplay or any teasing involved yet you know that Minjeong isn’t like that, so she herself has something to hold you over while you’re absolutely just with your boxers.
“So needy for me, Minjeongie…”
“Can’t help myself, daddy and besides—” She moans ever-so-slightly as you continue peppering her neck with kisses that makes her world rock on how full of heat and love each peck has. “—I can’t control myself whenever you’re around…”
And the feelings are mutual towards each other. You know how needy and submissive she can get whenever she’s in her vulnerable position and as much as you want her to strip teases you, you can’t help but take a glance and appreciate the beauty behind her glamorous outfit. 
“By the way, Minjeong, I don’t if I said this already but—” Minjeong’s puppy-like eyes was all in your sight, anticipating something that will come out of your mouth as you smile and caressed her hair. “—you look stunning and perfect in this outfit. I love it so much…”
As you were peppering her neck with more kisses of affection, she can’t help but moan and blush with your compliment, knowing how much you adored her look today.
“T-thank you—ahh, daddy. I’ve always wanted to be the most beautiful girl in your eyes whenever we meet. So I—ahh, always put effort on make-up—”
“Minjeong—” You move towards her, your face just inches closer to her as you tilt her chin, making her look up to you, dead in the eyes. “—there’s no other girl that’s more beautiful than you, alright? You’re my everything and everything that I need.”
Minjeong flashes that beautiful grin, her eyes almost half-lidded with the genuine smile she’s emanating, feeling the utmost adoration. She then stole a kiss with your lips and you immediately reciprocate with it, running your hands down her jacket and removing it off her arms as the other palms her stupendous curves of her waist while the kiss gets heated, riling up immediately to the tongue action that the both of you missed. While you were busy with your intimate kiss with Minjeong, she herself already got her dress off in a single, swift motion while you could only feel her dress brushing against your arms. She looked great on it but it would be better with it off her scrumptiously slender body so you didn’t care and continued the heat that was ignited earlier before you even got home.
“Daddy…”
“Yes?”
Minjeong slowly courses her hand on your abdomen and then, near your clothed crotch in which you instantly know what she wants but you still prefer to have it her way—she may want something else or more than what you’re thinking. 
“I need this inside me. Please, daddy…”
The way she pleads with her glistening orbs and her pouty mouth never fails to make you weak, and behind that pure countenance of hers is the lustful and wanton needs that should be attended immediately. You knew that this may happen before you even met her today and whenever she’s horny (especially when she’s with you), her heat can’t be stopped and must be fulfilled immediately or things will break loose. Loose in both ways, can either be good or bad but there’s nothing to worry about as the both of you heated up the atmosphere with another torridly intimate kiss.
While you’re busy pecking her beautiful lips, she swiftly ran her hands onto your stiffened rod and stroked it slowly, earning a subtle moan from your lips in which she smiled knowing how much it turned you on in an instant. She continued doing this for seconds until you stopped her, earning a small whimper and a cute sulk from Minjeong. With her panties now off, down to her ankles, you brushed your tip against her dripping folds, earning the sultriest moans escaping Minjeong’s mouth.
“Please, d-daddy—ahh! Fuck me like how I deserve it—”
“How do you think you deserve it, Minjeong, hm?”
She just whimpers uncontrollably within every oscillation your hips do, brushing so gently on her folds as she can’t think straight or anything articulate. Within every tease earns the mellowest of pleas that can absolutely make you give in to your deepest carnal desires but you resist, your iron will holding yourself up, dealing with your own dominant trait against Minjeong.
“L-like—daddy, ahh—uhm, l-like a g-good girl?”
You continue with your teases until you had enough and plunged your whole length immediately without even warning her—
“We’ll see about that, baby—but for now, you better take me like a good girl and I’ll—” You bring in a spank that marks an imprint onto that porcelain skin, making her cry and groan from the pain and from your leisure pace of thrusts. “—fill you up, okay? My poor little Minjeongie… So needy…”
Of course, you aren't just going to fuck her slow without doing anything more than that, so without wasting any time, you pull her into another hot kiss as immediately reciprocates. You’ll never get tired of tasting the succulent flavor of her lips as you were addicted to it right away—the feelings are mutual so it wasn’t really hard for Minjeong to comply and get into the same boat as you. Pulling out of the embrace of her lips on yours, she breathes heavily right after and so do you, catching air as your eyes wander around her smooth, pristine skin of her collarbones and neck. You didn’t hold back on your temptation as you immediately latched onto it, peppering it with multiple kisses that elevates the urge inside you on increasing the pace of your thrusts but you maintained your earlier composure, giving her your utmost intimacy with maximum pleasure and moderation. 
Minjeong’s moans are so heavenly, encapsulated with its own primal call and utmost adoration with how you’re treating her as it pumps the fuel of animalistic urges. It’s hard to maintain such a moderate pace whenever Minjeong pleads with her soft-toned voice and the lewdest sounds possible—you eventually feel yourself giving in, slowly intensifying your thrusts and you don't bother to slow it down.
 “Look at me, baby.” You said with all-seriousness and a demanding tone yet you know how Minjeong can’t really focus because of the peak pleasure she’s been experiencing that’s completely a sight to see, for you, at least. “Minjeong, look at me!” Another call and she responded yet without her eyes being full of tense and her breaths ragged as each thrusts is too much to take yet so enchanting to feel. 
And then, she slowly averted her glistening orbs, pupils dilating from anticipation as you muttered: “I’ll definitely fill you up to the hilt, okay?”
Your eyes ignite with lust as you groan in pain yet pleasure drives you onto your craziest cravings of desire, as you quickly follow up what you’ve said: “You like the thought of me painting your walls white, hm, Minjeong?”
She whimpers, biting her lip as she’s starting to lose herself because of so much pleasure. “I l-love—gahh-ahh—it, daddy! Please c-cum—gahh—inside m-me!”
Minjeong’s moans orchestrate such melodies that pleases your ears and further fuels your arousal, skyrocketing it up to the point every thrust you do inside her, you groan in tempo with it (your thrusts) and with how much her tight cunt clenches around your shaft just puts gasoline on the flames of lust. You didn’t let her catch a break as your pace finally wildens after like three minutes of a slow and steady one and you could feel the sudden spike of pleasure coursing down your veins. The view of Minjeong was the most erotic you’ve ever seen since earlier: her eyes alternating on being half-open to a full-closed one as you know how much those orbs anticipates and dilate in every thrust you do, her mouth in a shape of ‘O’ as she stick out her tongue, her face ahegao from the reckless treatments you’ve been doing to her, sweat dousing down her neck and onto the back, also down to her toned midriff and the cherry on top, her scrumptiously small mounds with her taut buds that further turns you on.
With a relentless pace being ensued by your hips, an ear-screeching sound escapes her lips as you pound her like an animal, chasing your very own high. With just the tip inside, almost withdrawing your whole length up to filling her up to the hilt is an exhilarating experience and this is probably the hottest sessions you’ve been in with her—maybe, you’re a bit biased now since you only think of just plowing her tight cunt until she see stars and the overstimulation from both parties doesn’t help with your articulate judgment.
“God—you’re tightness, baby—fuck… Since when did you get so tight?”
Of course, she can’t answer just immediately but rather, taking seconds because of the pleasure she’s experiencing. She doesn’t know if it’s a rhetorical or a genuine question but she didn’t care because she wanted to answer anyway.
“I don’t k-know, daddy—ahh! I’m j-just so—gahh, daddy! Just s-so tight ar—around you!”
Well, the feelings are just mutual—you can’t help yourself but get too hard whenever she seduces you and she knows it because she’s one of the multiple weaknesses you possess. Between the rapid movements of your hips, you take some time to look at her pristine features and run your hands to caress it while still maintaining your ruthless pace. She screamed followed by hurried moans that further ignited your animalistic spirit and permeated a blessing to this filthy atmosphere that is probably a nightmare for the neighbors to hear upon—and the last thing you want to hear knocking at your doorstep is a noise complaint from them.
Hearing Minjeong’s moans is angelic and erotic, and it’s even going to get hotter considering how she mewling about reaching her high sooner and you know that she can’t do anything about it, even if you commanded her to hold on and not to cum yet. You know that your princess requires her needs to be attended whenever possible, and you’ll treat her as one and a ear-deafening scream pursuits you to go faster and harder in her tight, little heated cavern as she pulls you into an embrace, her nails gripping your shoulders and almost leaving your skin scratched but you didn’t mind it.
She needs to cum and you’ll give it to her because she means everything to you and you’ll make her world rock with it. She deserves it, like the good, little servant she is for your cock and it’s just obvious because of how much her walls grip and hug around your stiffened member.
“Daddy, I’m g-going to c-cum…” Minjeong whines audibly between your thrusts and with the sight of this, you fuck her like an animal, helping to chase her orgasm sooner and to make her achieve the utmost bliss.
“I know, baby. Now cum.”
She doesn't hold back anything, screaming in delight as she lets out everything while still gripping you tightly with her hands as a leverage from the mind-boggling orgasm she’s having. With how much she creamed all over your raging length—her juices forming like a rivulet around your cock that it stained the bed sheets and god, you’re damn sure you need a new one after you’re done with her—you could tell how euphoric her orgasm was as you still fuck her through it, but with a moderate pace, you wanting to get onto your high too, and not just hers.
“You good, baby?”
“Y-yeah…” Minjeong weakly responded, her eyes a bit drowsy from the earlier orgasmic earthquake as she tries to recover from it. “Please c-cum inside me. Breed m-me—spill it all out i-inside my tight cunt…”
You’re fulfilling that, of course.
Even with her enervated state, she still looks hot as fuck and you can’t help but get more aroused with her ruined look. With your pace building up again, you grab onto her hips for an outlet of your own pleasure as her moans encourage you to get onto your high much faster. With tight feelings on your loins getting out of hand, you know it’s going to be achieved soon so you hammer her pussy with deep thrusts that rocks her world ultimately. 
Her wanton face never fails to make you on your knees and it’s about time to let it all out inside her. 
A wild groan and the burying of your whole length up to the hilt is just a signal of achieving paramount pleasure. She can feel it and lets out a faint moan and a whimper as you deposit all of your seed inside her, not wasting a single drop not buried deep in her cunt.With still the mere adequate will in your body, you thrust your hips, fucking your semen deeper in her and to chase your still orgasmic state. Minjeong’s sultry cadence brushes off your ears, finding a way to force you into oblivion yet you can’t take such more because of your sensitivity. Giving both of yourselves some space to recover and breathe, you slowly pulled out of her tightness, causing Minjeong to cry in need and satisfaction.
“God, daddy—y-you came in me… A l-lot—o-oh…” Minjeong smiles with the oozing semen coming out of her hole, grabbing a small sample and then tasting it, humming in satisfaction as she’s delighted to taste your delicious product.
“What c-can I say—you’re goddamn hot, Minjeong.”
It was never enough and you know it to yourself she deserves more. You’re still sensitive but the urge of ruining her pristine and god-like image is more than the definition of arousing—it’s monumental and probably an experience of a lifetime. Still with your unrivaled hardness, you can’t tell how you will not ruin her again with your cock as she senses it, smirking and luring you to another round of filthiness and she’s not far with that. 
“Such a slut for my cock, huh, baby?”
“You k-know me, daddy…”
Yes, you know her well and so are her limits. This was just the beginning of a spectacular show that you’re about to be into and it will be one hell of a night between the both of you. It’ll be a euphoric one, to that extent.
Being creative is a blessing in disguise, even in times like this even with your primal desires taking over you. You wanted variety as there’s more room to discover and to feel with her—experiment with her. Well, this wasn’t an experiment, but rather, you wanted to feel a different side of intercourse. As much as you want to see her beautiful face whenever you’re fucking her like an animal, you wanted it from behind, where you can achieve a different kind of pleasure and deeper penetration, which Minjeong utterly likes. You then commanded her to spin her figure around, get herself on all fours. She’s not naïve in these kinds of situation, being clever enough to do the rest—her ass up, face buried down the pillows
“Such a good girl for daddy, huh?” An obligatory spank on her bubble butt spices the atmosphere in the room, heat permeating the air as Minjeong’s moans add up to the concoction.
“I know you like it from behind—well now, you’ll get what you want, baby.”
This new profound position is a sensational experience and it’s literally everything you can dream of. Plunging your length deep inside her again, you groan with her tightness that rivaled any hole that she has—maybe even her walls gripping tighter than her ass, but that’s saved for another day. You painfully thrust inside her, moaning in unison as the pleasure is suddenly coursing down your veins, and hers and it’s hard to think straight with it. 
Clouded with the filthiest thoughts possible and the urge of bypassing the sensitivity you’re feeling, you didn’t start off slow but did the opposite—ensuing such a reckless pace like earlier. In each thrust you do, a spanks comes in every divisible of twos as Minjeong lets out a cry and a moan that further ignites the lust in you. Knowing you need an outlet to further have a greater grip in fucking her, your other hand reaches for her hair, making a makeshift ponytails and pull her head up, her back arched in order for those muffled moans be unshackled, letting your ears be blessed with those sinful moans escaping her beautiful lips.
“Daddy, y-you’re—ahh—t-too deep!!”
“And y-you’re too tight, baby—but I fucking love it!”
It’s not a complaint but rather a call of pleasure as the penetration was euphorically insane to take, for her, yet she loves it. You notice how much she’s spilling out her juices around your cock—and maybe even some of your semen leaking out—and by the sight of it, she’s definitely enjoying it as you continue fucking her cunt mercilessly.
She’s sensitive and vulnerable, bound to be broken and ruined within just merely a reasonable fraction of the power your hips ensues and yes, she’ll be a sullied mess after you’re done with her. She faintly moans after every spank you do, and a shrill from time to time, between your thrusts. You could tell that she’s about to reach her high again with the tight clenching of her pussy around your length, almost suffocating the life of it and the stream of her juices being the cherry on top.
“Daddy—I’m g-gonna cum ag—again—gahh!”
You lower down your head as your mouth is now inches away from her ears, whispering the words that breaks the reservoir inside her—“Cum for me, darling.”
And she didn’t hold back, again. It feels like she’s in an override as her thighs quiver from another mind-blowing orgasm that she’s letting out, streams and streams of her juices gushing out of her emanating heat and around your throbbing length. You kiss her nape and her shoulders while achieving her high, letting her know how much you love her and how much you’ll cherish every moment with her.
“I love you baby—yes, let it all out…”
“Gahh—uh-uh, daddy! Aren’t you g-gonna cum too?”
“Well, you don’t need to say that anymore, baby.”
Chasing your own orgasm too, you pick up the pace you’ve left earlier, bringing in the harshness of thrust as every oscillation brings in maximum pleasure on both parties. You’re too aroused to see her in this state, so you thought of venting every horny detail that you’ve been battling around your head to her.
“Damn, Minjeong—this pussy really deserves to be bred and used, isn’t it? You like milking my cock until my balls feel like raisins, hm? ‘Cause gosh—it’s really working and I’m going to breed this pussy until you’re leaking with my cum, do you under—stand?”
“Y-yes, daddy—breed y-your beautiful slut! Bree—”
With your energy invigorated and so is the serotonin running down your body, you shoot another thick load inside her, painting every inch of her walls full of your warm seed. With your unparalleled carnal desires, you still fuck yourself hard enough for her butt to jiggle as it resonates even up to her thighs. With multiple pecks and suckling onto the porcelain skin of her neck, you fuel your orgasmic state, wishing your orgasm to last longer but not all things are everlasting, hence, they all end in a good note.
With your high depleting down, off to a cliff, you pull out of her with a satisfied groan, admiring the mess you’ve made between her legs as your cock twitches on the arousing sight of her full-creamed pussy. You exchange arduous breaths to each other, exhausted from the steamy session you’ve been into. She turned around, her body laying flat on the bed as your sweaty bodies collide, inviting her into an embrace and for a warm cuddle that you always loved.
“Daddy, y-you came so m-much, again…” 
 “You know I can’t waste not even a single drop with you, baby.” You peck her forehead with a n affectionate kiss, making her hum in delight as she appreciates your little actions.
With all of the filthiness that had made the room a big mess, you invite her to clean up with her in the bathroom as she struggles a little, concern feigning all over your face.
“You good, Minjeong?”
“Y-yeah, I guess y-you wrecked my pussy too hard…”
“I’m sorry about that—” Minjeong quickly lays a finger on your mouth, silencing you from your continuous apology. She reassures you that everything’s fine as she wanted this anyway, to be totally sullied and ruined by you.
But sometimes, people love to risk going over the limit…
“Probably a round three in the shower, daddy?”
And there she goes, again…
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harryspet · 5 months
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bambi eyes (2) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
word count: 4.7k
In which you've been a good girl and your Daddy Rafe can't get enough of you.
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When you opened your eyes the following day, you could still feel Rafe all over you. All at the same time, you felt him inside of you, his mouth kissing your lips, and the bed dipping beside you when he pressed his weight into you. When you slowly realized he wasn’t in bed with you anymore, part of you felt you might have imagined last night. You’d never truly enjoyed being with men, and last night, you felt closeness for the first time. Perhaps it was the combination of all the gifts and the attention he had provided you yesterday. 
You still couldn’t quite rap the idea around your head that you were the first and maybe only girl he had done this with. How long was he planning on keeping you here?
The digital clock sitting on the nightstand read exactly 8:00, and you took it as a cue to get out of bed. As you made up the bed, your mind again wandered back to last night. You imagined he left as soon as you fell asleep, and you’d let yourself get so comfortable that you hadn’t even noticed. 
You stared at the doorknob for a short while. It would be locked, you knew that, but what if it wasn’t — it didn’t matter. 
Before he left, you noticed he left you an outfit hanging on the armoire. He’d picked out a matching set of light pink leggings and a matching top. He also picked out a pair of socks that had little, tiny bunnies on them and lacy, white underwear. You brought the clothes with you to the bathroom, your fingers caressing the soft fabric of the clothing. You didn’t recognize brand, sure that it was popular with American girls.
You went through your morning routine, one that Rafe had laid out yesterday, and you found yourself having fun. You brushed your teeth as you ran your bath. There were a million bath products, and you spent a few minutes opening and smelling all of them. You settled on something sweet and flowery, and soon the aroma was spreading throughout the entire bathroom. 
You settled in the water with the bubbles enveloping you. 
You almost settled into a moment of peacefulness until you heard your bedroom door unlock. Wearing a nice plaid shirt and khaki pants, Rafe entered your small sanctuary. You sat up in the water, worried that you’d been taking too long. His eyes were soft and unthreatening, and you let yourself rest again. He took a seat on the edge of the tub, looking down at you, “Enjoying yourself?”
You nodded, “It’s nice. Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, princess,” He smiled, “You did good. Last night, I mean.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I have some exciting plans for us,” He stated before he reached into his pocket, “Here, I need you to take this.”
He placed a small white pill in your hand. You watched as he made his way over to the sink, filling up a cup of water and bringing it to you.
“What is it for?” 
“It’s, uhm, so you don’t get pregnant,” Oh. You placed the pill on your tongue, washing it down with the liquid, “I got a little ahead of myself last night. That’s why I’m going to have a doctor check you out today.”
“I’m going to the hospital?”
“No. Dr. Watts makes house calls. And he’ll be here in thirty minutes. I’ll come back and get ya’, yeah?”
“Okay,” You agreed, slightly worried that Rafe thought you needed to be seen by a doctor. 
Rafe moved to leave but stopped in the doorway, “Don’t worry, there will be time for little Rafe’s and Bambi’s. Just not yet.” 
You nodded, conveying your understanding, but in reality, you didn’t understand how he could know he wanted that with you, even in the future. After he left the room, you realized your fingers were beginning to wrinkle. You reached down to drain the water from the tub, deciding your next pressing issue was how you’d do your hair. 
There was a vanity made into the sink countertop with a place underneath for a chair to fit. You pulled it out and made yourself comfortable, looking closely through all of the drawers. You find lots of hair accessories, makeup, and other beauty products. You picked some things out that wouldn’t require a full tutorial for you to use. You also chose two pink bows to tie to the ends of your braids, taking a guess that Rafe might like that you match your outfit. 
According to Rafe, Figure 8 had a lot of these places called country clubs, and you wondered what sort of things people wore to places like that. Surely, Rafe would make sure you wouldn’t feel out of place there. If you fully earned his trust, if you continued to be good, you could probably have a normal life here. People were happy here, especially the ones that called themselves Kooks. 
The leggings fit you well, grabbing onto your curves, and the cropped pink top also fit you snuggly. 
Outside the window, you could see boats riding by in the distance and large birds that stood by the water, wading and looking for fish. You could already tell his home was large, just from the view from your room, making you curious about the rest of the house. As if he was able to read your mind, Rafe appeared again, holding the door propped open, “Let me show you the rest of Tannyhill, Bambi.”
You straightened, trying not to seem too eager as you approached the door. As you grazed past you, he rested a hand on your hip, rubbing his palm against your bottom. You looked down a long hallway with lots of old paintings and elegant-looking fixtures. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway, “This is my room,” Rafe opened double doors, and you peeked inside to see a large dark wood canopy bed.
He didn’t show you every room; in fact, he seemed to ignore one specifically. Your eyes widened when he brought you out onto a huge patio that overlooked an even more ginormous green lawn. 
“All of this is–”
“Yeah,” He finished your sentence for you, “Anyone would be happy here, right?”
“Yes,” You agreed quickly, which seemed to please him. He grabbed your hand in response, holding it and caressing your thumb with his own larger one. Although you could tell the seasons were changing, the weather felt nice, and there was a constant breeze flowing and relieving you from the heat of the sun. 
He gave you time to take in the scenery but five minutes later, you both could see a car coming down the horseshoe-shaped driveway, “That’s Dr. Watts. You ready?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
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You didn’t have much of experience with doctors but you knew already you must not be a good patient. You struggled with almost every answer that Dr. Watts asked you and, at some point, he started directing all of his questions towards Rafe. 
When was your last period? What kinds of birth control have you used? Have you ever had something called a pap smear? Do you have any allergies? What’s your family’s medical history? 
“I gave her a Plan B this morning, just to be safe.”
You found yourself just trying to keep up with the conversation they were having. At some points, you found the view outside more interesting, “There are small procedures we can do. An IUD can be placed inside the uterus, an implant can be placed inside the arm, or there is the traditional birth control pill. Right now, I can give her a shot that will prevent pregnancy for the next 3 months.”
You were sat where Rafe had placed you, on a stool in the middle of the massive kitchen. 
Dr. Watts didn’t look like what you imagined a doctor would look like. He didn’t wear a white coat; in fact, he was dressed very casually in shorts and a button-up. He also brought all the things he needed in a briefcase. 
“That’s fine,” Rafe agreed, his arms crossed. 
“Alright, so after that shot, we’ll do a couple of vaccination shots. And then I’ll take some blood for testing.”
Dr. Watts had several syringes laid out on the kitchen island, picking up the first one after washing his hands and putting on some gloves. Rafe grabbed ahold of your hand again, his eyes commanding you to look at him, “This is just to make sure you’re healthy. It won’t feel good, but it’s not a punishment.”
“Okay,” You said, although your heart was pounding, and you already felt tears in your eyes. 
“I’m right here; squeeze my hand,” He said, pushing your hair back as he gazed over your face. On your other side, Dr. Watts lifted the sleeve of your shirt. The first shot was to your upper arm, and the pinch made you squeeze your eyes tight, but it was over relatively quickly, “You’re doing so good, sweet girl. What do you think about ice cream for breakfast?”
You opened your eyes, and the calmness in his eyes was a signal to you that everything was okay, “Lana has the day off, but I can make an ice cream sundae. We’ve got everything, whip cream, cherries, chocolate sprinkles. What do you think?”
Rafe made you talk through the next few shots and when the doctor had to draw your blood, and he wiped your tears when you were all done. 
“That wasn’t so bad. I’ll walk Dr. Watts out, and we’ll make some ice cream.”
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Rafe noticed you seemed almost disappointed when he led you back to your room after your ice cream feast. He liked showing you around your new home and the place he grew up, but he wasn’t quite ready to unhook your leash. You were safest in his home and even safer within these four walls. 
Rafe took a seat at the edge of the bed, his hand still intertwined with yours, “How does your arm feel, Bambi?” 
“A little sore,” You answered, although Rafe could tell by your eyes that it was worse than what you were portraying. He pulled you gently forward, encouraging you to straddle his lap. 
“Poor thing,” Rafe said, his voice becoming even more raspy as he felt your closeness, “But hey, you did so well. You know, I’m really happy with you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’re a good little girl. I can tell that you appreciate everything that I’ve done.”
“I-I do,” You replied quickly, making Rafe smirk. 
“And you understand that I’m in control … I mean, it’s only fair. Who knows what would have happened if I left you with that man, with those people,” You nodded at his words, and negative thoughts of his father, Sarah, and his evil stepmother started to enter his thoughts, “I’m giving you the perfect life, the happy home that I never got. Whatever, I won’t get fucking mopey, but just know after all that I’ve been through, I know how to lead a family properly.”
He stopped his mind from wandering to darker places and grabbed ahold of your hips, “Thank you for … taking me away.”
“I had to,” Rafe leaned in to kiss your neck, “You’re mine now. Only mine.”
He loved that he could smell the perfume he picked out for you and feel you in the clothes he bought for you. He took so much care in creating this paradise for you. 
“Daddy’s going to make you feel better,” Rafe said in your ear, “I have to taste you. You want Daddy to taste your pretty pussy?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Tell me,” Rafe commanded, squeezing your ass with his large hands. 
“I want you to taste me, Daddy.”
“Good girl, don’t be nervous,” Rafe praised, wrapping an arm around your lower back before he swiftly turned you over, placing you gently against the bed, “I’ll be gentle, just how I was last night. Not going to fill you up, just want to taste you.”
You were quite helpless with your arm being so sore, Rafe could tell you were struggling to move it. He thought of tying you down, of course, when you felt better. He took his time with your leggings, still excited as ever to see more of you. He spread your legs, kissing your center through the fabric of your panties. Wrapping his arms underneath you, he pulled you into him, letting your thighs warm his face. He kissed you like this for a while, teasing you, making you squirm when he kissed your inner thigh. Not able to wait any longer, Rafe pulled your thin panties to the side, “There’s Daddy’s pretty little pussy,” He kissed your clit first, and the next sounds out of his mouth were guttural as he took you into his mouth. 
You tasted divine, sweet like he always called you. Rafe became relentless, waiting until you were close to your peak before he pulled away. Heavy breaths fanned over your sensitive area, and you whined because of the lack of friction, “You liked that, didn’t you, Bambi?”
“Yes, i-it feels good, Daddy,” You responded, slightly embarrassed by how quickly you got worked up. 
“Should I keep going? Does my little girl want to cum? Go ahead and ask Daddy. Tell me what you want.”
“Can you please make me cum, Daddy?” Rafe could tell in your tone of voice that maybe you weren’t sure what you asking. He hadn’t considered that you might not know what an orgasm felt like. 
“Yes, Bambi, of course. Talk through it; tell me what it feels like, sweet girl,” After those words, Rafe held you even tighter and dipped his head down again. He pressed his tongue into you, waiting to find that spot that seemed to make you cry out before he focused all the pressure there. 
“It feels …it feels–” You gasped, “It’s too much, it’s too much–” Rafe took your scattered words and cries of pleasure as a good sign to keep adding pressure. When you tried to pull away from him, Rafe knew you were having an orgasm, but he kept you there, “It’s too much, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled away, giving your clit a short break, but soon he was replacing his mouth with his fingers. Rafe shushed you, “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” He pushed two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to find the right spot. For Rafe, the best thing about being with a woman was being able to watch them have multiple orgasms in a row. This time, he’d only make you have two, but he’d soon find out what your limit was, “One more. Just give me one more.”
Rafe started sucking your clit as he moved his fingers, “Please, please,” You wouldn’t beg him to stop; you were too much of a good girl. He knew what you needed and wouldn’t let you run from it. 
He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. Rafe entangled himself from your legs, needing to see your face. You looked so cute trying to catch your breath and with your face scrunched up. Rafe brought his hands over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, “That’s my girl.”
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A few days passed in your new room. Sometimes it crossed your mind to ask Rafe when you’d be able to walk around the house or when you’d get to go outside, but you stopped yourself every time. You thought you should be more grateful towards him, he’d provided you with so many things, and he was much kinder than any man you’d ever met. He was handsome, too, with blue eyes that often made it hard for you to think when you looked into them. 
Every day was similar; there were no more visitors like Dr. Watts, and you completed your routine exactly like Rafe had instructed. Usually, you’d share all of your meals, and Rafe would leave in between for work. You got more comfortable in your own company. At first, playing with the toys felt silly, like the activities were meant for someone much younger. Slowly, it started to feel like satisfying a part of you that hadn’t existed in a long while. 
Today, you had several coloring books laid out on the ground in front of your bed, and you’d spent most of the day coloring. You liked having your dolls set up nearby so, of course, they could see your work, “What do you think, Molly?” You’d spend hours by yourself, and it started feeling natural to talk to them, “Red or blue for the spots … Blue? You’re right; blue would be perfect.”
Rafe returned to you before dinner but you noticed he hadn’t brought a tray of food like he usually did. Instead, he was carrying a large cardboard box, “I’ve got a surprise for you,” He set it down on the carpet nearby you, his face lit up with excitement. You set down your marker, crawling on your knees towards the box. Rafe kneeled down with you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a soft kiss, “You’ve been so damn good your first week; something came for you in the mail.”
You looked at him, baffled, “I don’t know what it could be.”
“Open it,” He winked at you. 
Cautiously, you pulled open the flaps of the cardboard and then reached into the mountain of packing peanuts. You pulled out a long box, immediately recognizing a doll's face, but one that looked very similar to you. It was the right skin tone and had the same curls that you did, “Really? For me?” You placed the box on the ground, just admiring her face. 
“Yeah, why should you have to play with my sister’s old things?” Rafe opened up the box even further, and you could see she was dressed in a beautiful floral gown. It was a cream color with pretty blue flowers, puffy sleeves, and an even flouncier skirt. 
“She’s so pretty … and the dress is…,” You said, unable to take your eyes off of her, “You didn’t have to; I really do like the other dolls–”
“I wanted to,” Rafe insisted, “And that’s not it. There’s something else.”
When you reached back inside the box, you felt the top of a hanger. You pulled out a clear garment bag and inside was the exact replica of the dress your new doll was wearing, and it looked your size, “For you to wear to dinner,” Rafe explained after you stared speechless, “Which, for tonight, will be served in the dining room.”
“We’ll be matching,” You thought out loud, next picking up the doll from the packaging. 
“She’s welcome to dinner if you want to bring her. She’s completely yours. You can name her and everything,” Rafe said, gently grabbing ahold of your chin, “I want to see you in your new dress, though.”
“Yes, Daddy,” You agreed, standing with both the doll and dress in hand, “If I’m Bambi, maybe she can be …Bunny?”
“That’s a cute name, sweet girl,” Rafe agreed, clapping his hands together, “Run along, I want to be surprised.”
Excitetely, you padded over to the bathroom. When you put the dress on, you were surprised by how similar they were, down to the placement of the flowers, although yours fit much shorter than your dolls. When you stepped back into the room with Bunny in your hands, you smoothed down the back of your dress so it would fully cover your bottom. Rafe’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight, and you did a small spin for him. 
“Wow, don’t you two look precious.”
His eyes looked hungry, although you could tell he wasn’t thinking about tonight’s dinner. 
For the first time in several days, you left your room, one hand tucking Bunny close to your body and your other hand intertwined with Rafe’s. The lights around the house were dim and Rafe led you to down a long hallway to a candlelit room. Although the long dining room had twelve chairs, only two places were set. Rafe pulled back the chair right next to the head of the table, and you initially missed his cue for you to sit as your eyes looked all over the room until he tapped your bottom. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but you still took your seat. 
In front of you was a delicious-smelling plate of steak with a red sauce, small potatoes, and carrots. There was also a beautiful flower arrangement on the table, one made of cream and light purple flowers, “You look fucking beautiful, princess,” Rafe whistled, taking his place at the head of the table, “Like a fucking painting or something.”
Rafe’s words made you smile, and his compliments often made you feel overwhelmed. You weren’t used to someone taking notice of your appearance outside of sex, and when he looked at you, he looked at you as a whole, “Thank you, Daddy,” The words were starting to feel natural on your tongue, “It looks very nice in here, and the food looks delicious.”
“You ever been on a date before?” Rafe asked, pouring something fizzy into your wine glass. You shook your head in response, “Usually, you share a meal or do an activity together; meanwhile, you’re getting to know the other person. You’re lucky you don’t have to go on a million bad dates before you’ve found the right person.”
“What makes a date bad?” You asked. 
You moved to pick up your knife but paused when Rafe grabbed ahold of it first. He took you for as well and began cutting your steak into smaller pieces, “For me, girls have always wanted … things from me. Superficial things. You think they’re listening to you when you’re pouring your heart out …but really just thinking about how they’re gonna get what they want from you.”
You frowned, squeezing Bunny closer to your stomach, “That sounds horrible.”
When Rafe handed you your fork, you assumed you could begin to eat. 
Rafe nodded his head, taking a swig of brown liquor from his glass, “I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“Will your sister ever come to visit?” If the purpose of a date was to get to know the other person, you thought you could get some curiosities you had off your mind. 
“I have two sisters. Wheezie, she’ll probably come visit at some point, uhm but my other sister probably won’t. She’s not really welcome, anyways,” Rafe answered, poking at food on his plate, “Wheezie, though, I’m sure she’ll like you.”
Your lips pulled into a small smile, “I’ve always wanted siblings. I had some friends in the other girls, but Mas-” You stopped yourself, “We weren’t really supposed to like each other.”
“Blood doesn’t really mean anything. You should be able to choose your family,” Rafe said, “What matters is who’s loyal to you, you know?
You agreed, although you weren’t sure you really knew what loyalty felt like. As you were finishing up dinner, a loud knocking interrupted one of Rafe’s stories. Rafe seemed more caught off guard than even you were, fumbling to pull out his phone and check something, “Shit,” he cursed, “C’mon, Daddy’s got to handle some business.”
Rafe grabbed your arm as he pulled you from the dining room. He brought you to the stairs, “Go upstairs, close your door, and wait for me,” You tried to glance out the window panes by the front door but couldn’t get a glimpse of who was there, “Go.”
The strict tone in his voice made you hurry up the stairs, although once you were at the top, you ducked down and crouched behind the banister. You watched Rafe open the door, and a shorter, dark-haired man pushed his way inside, “What’s so fucking urgent that you’re showing up without calling?” You heard Rafe ask. 
“Don’t you look fancy,” The other man commented, “Having a dinner party without me?”
“Dude, what is it?” Rafe sounded impatient. 
“It’s Maybank. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have some important shit to tell you.”
“Fine, come to my office.”
Their voices faded away as they moved further into the house. You debated sneaking back down and eavesdropping, but you looked down at Bunny, her face reminding you to be good. You wandered back to your room, and like Rafe told you to, you closed the door behind you. 
He was occupied for an hour before he returned to your room. Running a hand through his hair, he breathed out a sigh, “Sorry about that,” Rafe said, taking a spot next to you on the bed. 
“Who was it?” You asked quietly. 
Rafe hesitated, “... a business associate of mine. I got some bad news. I’ll probably be gone most of the day tomorrow.”
“Can’t I go with you?”
“You still need time to adjust,” He looked down at you, “It isn’t something you’ll want to see anyways. My work is nothing a little girl like you should be involved in. I won’t let you worry your pretty little head.”
“I’m sorry …”
“I’m not mad at you,” Rafe grabbed ahold of your chin, “Before if I had gotten news like that …man, I would’ve lost my shit. But I have you, and just looking at you makes me feel better.”
His hand moved to your throat, squeezing as he kissed your lips, “I want to fuck you so bad in that cute little dress.”
You struggled to get a breath, his tongue exploring your mouth as he tightened his grip around your neck. Instinctively, you grabbed ahold of his wrist, and he pushed you back onto the bed. Just as he released his grip and you were able to take in a full breath, Rafe grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. His movements didn’t feel like they usually did; he was rough and desperate. 
“Up on your knees,” He lifted up your waist and then lifted up the skirt of your dress, your face pressed into the bed, “Good girl, stay like that, spread open for me.”
You heard him spit before you felt him press a wet hand against your clit, rubbing, before coating your entrance. He was already hard, and he wasted no time pressing his length against your entrance. In this position, you felt him even deeper as he pushed inside of you, “Daddy,” You whimpered. 
“You’re doing so good for me,” Rafe cooed, “I know you can take more. I know you can handle it.”
You squeezed the bed tightly as he moved faster and went just as deep. Rafe kept you from pulling away, holding your hips so tight you were sure they might bruise. Unmercifully, he rocked into you, only going harder when you felt yourself reaching your peak, “I’m cumming, Daddy,” You told him, your voice muffled by the fabric of the comforter, “I’m cumming.”
Rafe grabbed the back of your throat, pushing into you harder, “Cum baby, you’re squeezing me so fucking good,” Rafe panted, “Oh, Daddy’s gonna fill you up, sweet girl.”
You felt tears begin to fall, a swirl of emotions inside you. It hurt, him stretching you over and over, and yet you felt good at the same time. You were so happy to have a home with a new Master who actually cared for you and wanted to take care of you. You were still scared that you’d wake up tomorrow and you’d be back sleeping on cold, cement floors. 
After Rafe finished, the tight grip he had changed to soft caresses. He softly rubbed your bottom before slowly pulling up the skirt of your dress, “Lay down, Bambi,” Although your muscles were sore, you crawled further onto the bed, laying down on your stomach. Rafe fell beside you, caressing your hair and then your tear-stained cheeks, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
You wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you into a deep hug. Rafe rubbed your back until you thought you might fall asleep until you heard him say, “You won’t like it if you wake up in your dress. Let’s go brush our teeth and change into our jammies. Then Daddy will tuck you in, okay?”
Weakly, you nodded against his hard chest, “Okay, Daddy.”
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part 3
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teamatsumu · 5 months
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Gojo has a thing for biting.
He didn’t think he did. He has explored every kink known to man but biting just felt weird in the past. It never did anything for him, he just did it if a past partner asked.
That’s why he does it to you. He’s balls deep in your pussy, biting his lip at the feel of your warm, tight walls, when he sees your hazy eyes flash down to his lips. You lick your own and moan breathlessly before pulling him closer by his shoulders.
“Satoru,” you sound so sweet. “Bite me.”
He doesn’t think much of it, eyes moving down to your neck. But then, when you arch your torso and throw your head back, he is greeted with the sight of the corded, sweaty muscle in your neck, taut and defined. He eyes the graceful slope of your collarbone, is hit with the lovely scent of your flowery perfume, and he feels his mouth water.
It is on instinct, something primal that he can’t hold back, and his face is buried into your neck, teeth sinking into the flesh, soft at first, then harder when he hears your broken moan. He feels the way your cunt tightens around him, makes his hips stutter, and he speeds up, feeling his dick throb even harder. He moans into your neck, releasing the skin to look down at the red teeth marks freshly engraved into you, his own spit mingling with your sweat, and then he is surging forward again, right next to the previous bite, and biting down even harder.
He knows the marks are red only now, and that they will grow into a darker blue, maybe even purple, as time passes.
He cums harder than he has in his entire life, his teeth still digging hard into your flesh, and judging by how loud you wailed, and how you thrashed in his arms, and how your sweet cunt gushed all over his cock and his pelvis, he was willing to guarantee it was the same for you.
Good luck trying to keep his teeth off you from now on. Oh, and get some really good concealer.
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popponn · 5 months
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here and there, about him.
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summary: is he perfect? no, just like anyone else. but there will always be something about him. (aka a snippets of one of many, many things he will do for you.)
notes: missing lovesick bllk boys trope for a hot minute while doing other stuffs. short and light stuffs to scratch the itch. was about to isagi and nagi, but turns out self control is still a thing for me. warning: none, just minor swearing + fluffs capital f of smitten boys, chigiri is ready to fight for you. reader's gender unspecified.
characters: rin, chigiri, kaiser.
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itoshi rin is very, very much very obvious in his favoritism to you. so obvious that both his teammates and his brother told him to tone it down a little bit. of course, rin only scoffs and tells them to mind their own business (actually he said it more as ’fuck off, cretins’, but details). but, really, no one could exactly blame them. this guy could be in an ongoing tirade about how person a is an utterly pathetic soggy wet trash, then you greet him with a smile and he turns into a cold, suave, rich boyfriend on a snowy winter day. drape his jacket on you, hold your hand, and ’let you hug him from behind while discreetly intertwining your finger with his’ type of stuff. it’s a bit disgusting, honestly. and no one wants to start commenting on how he immediately looks in your direction after scoring a goal. also if he buys something, the only one who has the slightest bit of hope of ever receiving anything is his brother here—and that chance is very miniscule on its own since none of them are you. put simply, it’s a bit infuriating, yet undeniably infuriatingly cute in its own way to watch. especially when there is a very high chance you will be the one and only romance this anti-social guy will ever have. everyone in the team supports the two of you, but by gods maybe please do something about him a little bit?
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chigiri hyoma will never let anyone hurt you. it’s common knowledge already that he takes no shit from anyone and ever since he has seen you as ‘the one’, he pretty much already thinks of you as an inseparable part of his life already. so, in other words, that means you have gotten yourself a boyfriend who is ready to become a biting guard dog at a moment's notice. someone insults you? tries to physically harm you? oh, baby, hold your boyfriend back because he is also known to get angry real quick. save his reputation and hold himself back from spouting words that would make someone’s ancestors cry or, worse, from beating someone up. this is a speedster athlete trained by ego jinpachi himself—no one could escape unscathed from something like that. but hey, this is someone who naturally turns into a shoujo manga male lead with soft gazes and flowery smiles the moment you put a hand on his cheek. this is, in a way, just another way for him to protect and make sure of your comfort. also, he needs to have an outlet for the less soft part somewhere other than soccer.
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michael kaiser is very reliable and observant, despite whatever persona or deflection he will give you even in the ‘official already’ part of your relationship. this guy has a high ego and puts on an air of someone high and mighty, beyond your league. but everyone all knows if you get to the part where he proudly lets you wear his clothes or makes sure you stay pressed to his side during walks, he is down bad. still, for his sake and maybe everyone else’s, let him take care of you and act casually about it. don’t point it out when he suddenly crouches down and ties your untied shoelaces, keep talking as if nothing happened when he puts a hand in the small of your back, and just act as if nothing happened when he gives someone a ferocious glare while making sure you cling unto his arm. don’t praise or, god forbid, swoon at those. it will only make him get flustered and lose his composure or, worse, get real annoying. he is indeed good at the whole act of service thing, surprisingly, but please do remember his attitude is indeed also in the ‘piece of shit’ category most of the time. just let the yellow and blue betta fish swim at his own pace and let what means to happen in the future, happen at its own time, including giving praises to him without him reacting like a lovesick brat.
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undiscovered-horizon · 7 months
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4 A.M. - Sanji x Reader
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SUMMARY: Sanji's doing prep for the next day and you can't sleep which leads to a heartfelt and intimate encounter.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k
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It's around 4 A.M. when you get up from your hammock-turned-cot and decide to find something to do. Sleep clearly isn't coming. The past two hours of staring at the ceiling and swaying with the boat filled you with annoyance at your sudden case of insomnia.
Walking down the narrow corridor of the lower deck, you can hear the tiniest of creaks as the caravel floats along the waves. The night is so quiet, you can almost hear Luffy's snoring from his room. Usopp is mumbling in his sleep. Something about a pirate crew, carrots and onions. Nami and Zoro seem to be peaceful sleepers although with time you've learned that it's only a game of appearances - the thief and the hunter sleep with one eye open.
With each step, you can hear the repetitive sound more clearly. It's quick, separated by scraping.
The low light of the kitchen makes Sanji look almost inhuman, like the spirit of a chief cook who can't let go of the ship he had spent his entire life on. He's still in the same clothes, although the double-breasted jacket is nowhere in sight. The sleeves of his striped shirt are rolled halfway up his forearms. Where he's standing, the lonely lightbulb illuminates only half of his silhouette. The blond man toes the line of visibility as though he might disappear when you blink.
He looks almost divine.
"Can't sleep?" Sanji asks without looking away from the cutting board.
Only then, when he lets you know he's aware of your presence, do you realize you've been leaning against the doorframe and watching him for a good few minutes. Knowing Sanji, he won't think you odd but you're still a little flustered.
"Yeah. You?" you answer. In a few slow steps you're standing next to him, leaning your lower back against the kitchen counter.
For a moment, Sanji looks away from the cutting board and chopped carrots. His eyes stare into yours for a moment. It's nearly an inborn reflex that a wide smile curves his lips when he sees you.
"Not a fan of sleeping alone," he says and winks at you before going back to cutting vegetables.
The blush on your cheeks darkens a few shades (maybe he won't notice in the kitchen's twilight?). Truthfully, you have entertained that thought more than once and wondered whether similar fantasies kept him awake at night too. But you always dismissed them, thinking it wrong to have such intimate dreams regarding someone who might not even reciprocate your fondness. Sanji is, after all, a ladies' man - flowery words leave his mouth whenever a woman is around, no matter if she's taken or not interested.
Still, you believe there is something more between you and Sanji. Sometimes you think you've deluded yourself into believing this but it's moments like these, like the fond silence you're sharing now, that convince you it's not just your imagination:
Most of the time, the conversation between you and Sanji flows like a swift stream. But now, when the two of you are too tired to sleep, the silence is just as good. Even if you're not exchanging words and ambiguous comments, you feel understood. Like he knows you well enough to be able to guess what's on your mind. And you know what he might say in return, all the advice and wax poetic he revels in telling you. It's perfectly strange to converse with someone without saying a single word.
"Wanna see a trick?" you ask, breaking the silence.
Sanji is putting his chopped vegetables into large bowls. The movement of his hands is both careless and calculated as though he's letting his muscle memory take over the very last step of prepping ingredients for the next day's cooking. He's done this so many times, it's useless to think about the action too much.
"You trying to impress me, princess?" he asks in a low voice with a half-grin plastered on his face. The mischievous glint in his eye never quite seems to go away, especially when you're around.
"Nah," you answer, shaking your head, "just practising to show off in front of Zoro."
Sanji tries to pout but a genuine smile is tugging at the corners of his lips. "Cold."
Still, his eyes are glued to you. Though part of you is convinced it's not because you're about to show him a cheap fair trick. You take one of the teaspoons lying around and lift it in front of your face.
"You better not blink," you warn him.
He gives you a strange look.
"And lose precious few seconds of admiring you? Never."
Like most times, you're not sure how much of his sweet words you can believe.
With a quick move of wrists and fingers, you make the teaspoon disappear. After practising for a few days, the sleight of hand is almost flawless.
Sanji nods with appreciation.
“So you’re a magician, eh?” A low chuckle rumbles in his throat. “This explains how come you’ve bewitched me entirely.”
He leans on his arm against the edge of the counter. His head is slightly tilted as he's looking down at you. The lack of space between your bodies wouldn't raise an eyebrow in any other circumstances but now, when the night is dark and silent, the close proximity makes it hard to breathe. Your chests nervously rise and fall as you're breathing in each other's air.
“Truth be told," you begin in a slightly shaky voice, "I don’t know how to reverse the spell I put on you.”
But it seems as though Sanji has seen through your facade of humour and banter. The playful glint in his eyes mellows, becoming something more heartfelt. Your breath gets stuck in your throat and you must remind yourself to breathe.
“I’m quite content doting on you for the rest of my life."
You clench your jaw and look away for a moment. Flirty banter with Sanji is meant to remain just that - half-hearted comments with no strings attached. The problem is that, against your better judgement, you've been letting his wax poetic weigh down heavy on you, savouring each compliment and ambiguous remark like a soft river wearing down an unmovable boulder over time.
“Sanji," you whisper, "you need to stop saying all those nice things.”
“Why?” His voice is just as breathy and quiet.
“Because I’m starting to believe you.”
Something about his expression changes. You can't quite put a finger on it but Sanji's face looks softer, almost somber. His shoulders become tense as he wipes his hands on the dishrag hanging over his shoulder and tosses it on the countertop.
"Would that be so terrible, love?" Sanji drones his words. Part of you is convinced that he already knows the answer. "To believe that my every thought belongs to you?" His eyelids flutter as his gaze falls to your lips. "That I would tear out my own heart and bring it to you in my teeth if you asked for it?"
The short silence feels unbearable. You can hear your own heart thundering in your chest, beating at your ribcage to finally be freed. To let it make the decision this time.
“Alright, you’ve done it," you whisper more to yourself than to him.
You can hear Sanji sharply inhaling when you grab the collar of his elegant shirt and pull him into a feverish kiss. He tastes like cigarettes and spearmint chewing gum. His shirt is imbued with the smell of cooking oil. All of those strong aromas you've learned to associate with comfort and security.
His lips move against yours with passion and desperation known only to those who made friends with longing. Sanji places his hands around your waist, pulling you even closer to his body. If he could pull you just a little more, merge the two of you into one union, he wouldn't have to go a second without you.
Then, Sanji pulls just an inch away. His hot, heavy breath brushes against your cheeks. Swollen, red lips look even more enticing than they did before.
"Are you really going to woo Zoro with a magic trick?" he asks, somewhat tense.
Your laughter brightens up the dead of night. Sanji feels like his chest is about to burst open with flowers blooming inside his ribcage where his heart should be. And it would have been if he hadn't given it to you the moment you met.
"Just shut up."
Shaking your head, you kiss him again. Still holding you close, Sanji pushes you against the kitchen counter. One of his hands leaves your waist only to rest against the side of your head to deepen the kiss.
It's around 4 A.M. when you wonder whether being in love is like having a song stuck in your head. Or like an echo that forever repeats a single name.
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