#and a glass (well several) full of wine

[scarlettriot]

I’m thinking a lot about Eiji’s dark happy trail and that squishy layer of fat that protects his hard earned muscles. That teasing trail that disappears beneath his grey sweats and how I just wanna slip my fingers into his waistband and pull ‘em down so I can wrap my— the rest of this post has been redacted due to horny brain short circuiting.

#scarlett's not sober 🍷 #I wanna rest my forehead on his soft tummy #while my lips are wrapped around his cock #and my nose is pressed right up to that neatly trimmed dark patch of hair #fuck it snuck into the tags #oh well #I have a head full of filthy thoughts #and a glass (well several) full of wine #scarishima♡ #Kiri #Kirishima #best red rock shark ♥️🦈

[whateveriwant]

might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;

Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader

Price

Three words: full body massage

That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)

He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his

He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin

Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted

Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)

By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut

Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone

Ghost

We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in

…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is

Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)

You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work

He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home

He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name

I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses

Gaz

He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening

First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining

Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off

The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes

When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet

He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it

Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion

Soap

‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck

However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up

He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you

Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)

He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting

And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there

By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…

#wiw asks #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price #simon riley #kyle garrick #john mactavish #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2

[austinbutlerslovers]

Mr. Butlers Babysitter 2

Label Mature 18+

🔗 Part 1 Link

Summary

After working professionally with Mr. Butler for two months you developed a lovely bond with his two wonderful children. You were highly satisfied with your salary and with your kind new boss.

Everything seemed to be going perfectly until one night Austin tricks you in to being alone with him and admits he has extremely obsessive feelings for you.

To make matters worse he claims you’ve avoided all his advances and now he must take drastic measures. What he does to black mail you is so earth shattering you give into his wishes immediately becoming even more compromised.

The next morning after he fulfills his lustful wish of dominating you he holds you hostage withholding personal items and revealing he has even more disturbing evidence to ruin you if you leave him.

His control over you is so manipulative as he switches between loving and cruelty that it breaks your naive mind and you actually begin to fall for him.

🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨

dubcon•sex act on camera • oral sex while inebriated •ejaculated on while inebriated • humiliation kink •manipulation into oral sex •forced oral sex• forced fingering •spankings •dirty talk•name calling •degradation •orgasm denial • slight sadism •forced penetration •size kink •P in V•cum eating•kiss it better •love bombing•mental fragmentation of a female• Stockholm syndrome • yandere

🥀 Corrupt Austin Series 🥀

✍🏼 Co-writer @burnthheparaphilia

Master List ••• Upcoming List

Mr. Butlers Babysitter 2

You awaken in the morning with a pounding headache in a blackened room. You groan the headache is so intense it feels like your head is splitting.

Your hand fumbles around in dark next to the bed until you feel the base of an advanced lamp. “Shit” you say frustrated as you slip you fingers over it trying to find the on switch. You fail several times pressing it slapping it twisting it.

Suddenly all the automatic shades begin to lift slowly flooding the room with light. You are in a huge modern bedroom…. Your face goes blank you are still at Austin’s. He is in the door way eating an apple as he watches you figure it out.

He grins as you lock eyes with him “Good morning” he says slyly. Wearing a white tee and black jeans he looks handsome and ready for the day.

You sheild your eyes from the blinding light as the shades go all the way up “Hi.” you say weakly and sit up in his bed trying to piece together what happened last night.

You remember he clearly admitted to drugging your wine with ecstasy but the sex was so euphoric after that your body and mind are still in constant conflict. What he did was wrong but when he had his way with your body it felt so right.

The physical after math however is awful. Never having ecstasy or a drink before he made sure to give you ample glasses until you lost the ability to function.

Your lips are cracked and dry, your jaw is sore, and you feel like your body has been thrown down two flights of stairs. You shakily get up and feel the dizziness adding to your woes .

When you finally become aware of your surroundings you look out at his gorgeous cliff side view of the infinite ocean, and it stuns you, his bedroom is floor to ceiling wall to wall glass. It momentarily snaps you out of your discomfort as you get up and make your way to his master bathroom. You close the door behind you and lock your self inside trying to collect your thoughts with your head pounding.

There is a full glass wall window with an ocean view inside as well. His bathroom is enormous and completely gray marble. The room is centered around a massive rectangle temper glass shower with more nozzles than you can count. He has every modern amenity possible.

You look to the counter and see there is already a tooth brush, washcloth and facial soap for you.

As you wash your face and brush your teeth you look at your reflection in the giant counter to ceiling mirror. You are sweaty and queasy from the aftermath of your first time drinking you feel like hell.

You have a flash back of Austin clinking shot glasses and drinking more dark liquor with you last night… bourbon? You try to remember but it all goes fuzzy. You try to figure out his shower but it’s so advanced you take your wash cloth to the sink.

Austin waits until you exit the bathroom you are wearing one of his favorite shirts with nothing on underneath. By the way you stare down at his shirt like it’s a foreign object he knows you don’t remember a thing from last night.

“Austin where is my phone” your voice cracks as you look around his spacious master bedroom. “It’s charging downstairs.“ he replies taking another bite of his apple. He is in no rush to have you leave. “Well can I have it?“ you ask him flatly feeling agitated from your physical discomfort.

“If you say please” he says flashing you a grin. He remembers over hearing you correct his daughter in the same manner. Your brain isn’t fully functioning yet so you stare at him with pleading eyes “Austin please.”

He grins loving the way you say his name. The words giving him a memory of last night when they were coming out of your mouth in a desperate manner.

He turns from the doorway and you instinctively follow him as he leads you through his massive estate into the kitchen.

Once there you look across all the countertops until you see your phone. It is hooked to a cable in a cubby space made for charging electronics.

“Oh my god!” you exclaim once you reach it and read the time. “My classes!” you whine unlocking your phone. You begin to panic going through your course links to find the class emails. You quickly message your most important professor apologizing you missed the group protect because you are sick.

Austin hovers next to you resting his hip to the counter still eating his apple. “Austin where are my clothes?” You ask not looking up preparing to leave as soon as you type your message. He smirks “In the laundry to clean the cum out of them.” he answers. You look straight ahead thinking why would he say that?

Austin eyes your screen and takes note of your professors email it’s so simple he easily memorizes it. “What is the last thing you remember from last night?”he asks deliberately. When you turn to him he eyes you with a naughty grin as he finishes his apple.

You close your eyes and let out a breath in concentration trying to remember as you speak aloud. “Classes, gym, movie theater ..uh with you, then trying to leave and you telling me I’m too drunk? It all gets fuzzy after that I can’t remember.” You admit opening your eyes.

He is still making direct eye contact and smiles as he speaks “Should I tell you what you did, or would you like to see my security footage?” He asks darkly.

Your eyes go wide as your stomach tightens from the way he says it “Show me the footage.” you confirm beginning to have a minor panic attack.

He turns from you walking across the kitchen pulling ingredients and a pan. “First I’m going to feed you. Scrambled eggs and avocado toast right? strawberries and blueberries on the side” he asks shooting you a knowing look as he presses the gas ignition for the range top stove.

You nod yes, feeling awkward because he’s getting all the information from your application to work for him. You slowly approach the large countertop sitting to watch him cook for you.

After a few moments he plates perfect scrambled eggs with avocado toast and sliced fruit in front of you on the counter space. You devour it feeling famished, It is one of the best meals you’ve had in a while.

Once you clear your plate he collects it and gives you a glass of water. “Thank you Austin” you say smiling up at him after you’ve have a drink. “You’re quite welcome” He says in a kind voice “but you have to take this with it” he says holding your hand out and placing a tiny blue pill in your palm.

You become nervous. “Austin what is this?” You question thinking he’s going to drug you again. His eyes wander over you affectionately. “Your birth control “ he says. “Oh.” You respond realizing what he wants. You place it in your mouth and swallow it down with water. “Good girl” compliments admiring your obedience.

Security Footage

He takes you to a new wing of the estate you haven’t been to before. As he walks you down a long hall to the end he stops at a large door with a security pad. He presses his thumb and opens the door allowing you both inside.

You enter his grandiose office. In the center is his desk which is conjoined by two upright office chairs . Two large low armchairs are spaced a few feet back from them with a coffee table in between. He has another ocean view from a giant glass window behind his desk. It is so bright out you can see it through the sliver of his open black out curtains.

His wall to your left is covered with a decorated book shelf and the wall on your right is covered with his movie memorabilia and awards.

He is a validated actor and it shows. You walk to take a closer look at an encased leather vest which reads “Benny, The Bikeriders 2024” then wander over to a case with two elborate blades crossed which reads “Feyd Rautha Dune Part Two 2024”, before finally looking into his awards shelf. There over 100 trophies spaced across twelve rows.

Your eyes grow wide unable to count them all before finally settling on reading his BAFTA from 2023 “ Best Male Lead Elvis.” You smile feeling proud of him. You have never met someone like Austin before. He is truly one of a kind and from the looks of it he worked hard to become as insanely rich as he is.

Austin takes his seat at the desk and opens his laptop. You know he is going to pull up the footage to watch and you apprehensively join him standing off to his side to view it.

He logs into his security system and you can see from the amount of cameras that he has every inch of the estate perimeter under surveillance.

The footage is live and you can see the movements of his gardener on one screen and look to another to see the movements of his maintenance man cleaning the pool.

Austin clicks his fingers on the keyboard pulling one section of time to take over the entire screen.

You lean closer to him at the desk to get a better look. It is night in the footage but his camera is equipped with low level lighting and you clearly see two figures walk out the back of the estate near the pool.

You recognize yourself with Austin. Your breathing increases as you watch how you drunkenly pull him under the awning of his out door bar.

He brings a bottle from behind the counter pouring you both shots, you cheers and drink them down before he pours another set and you do the same.

You watch yourself smiling and speaking to him before he pulls you close and begins kissing you heavily. His hands roam all over your body and take a firm squeeze of your ass.

He stops the kiss and you exchange a few words gazing into each others eyes until you stop talking and suddenly kneel down in front of him pulling his cock out of his sweat pants. In the footage you lower your head on his cock obscuring the view but Austin’s face can clearly be enjoying the blow job.

In his office you are shocked covering your mouth.

Austin peeks over and sees your surprised expression “This was your idea” he says with a naughty smirk. He looks back to the footage and watches you suck his cock with pure devotion on screen. It makes him hard all over again.

The footage seems to go on forever until he pulls his cock from your mouth and places his hand on your head. He ejaculates all over your mouth and chest, with his cum running down, it ruins your outfit.

He takes a deep breath in his office enjoying watching it happen again as he palms himself under the desk. “..That was my idea “ he says squeezing his tip trying to contain his arousal.

He watches next how he pushes your head back on his cock making you suck and swallow the last of his cum out. “Fuck you are such a slut for me” he says pausing the video. He already wants you again and downloads the segment of video to his phone before deleting it from the main stored footage.

He looks back to see your stunned expression.

"A-Austin this is so bad... In so many ways this is so ba-" he cuts you off as he stands and walks toward you "Why would you call it bad hm? I think you’re very attracted to your new boss" he admits looking over you as he smiles.

Now in your proximity he lowers his forehead to yours taking his hand to brush your hair away. He holds the back of your neck keeping you confined in the intimate space with him.

He smiles staring down at your lips “Your mouth felt so good sucking on my cock..... feeling your tongue licking all the mess you caused.” He confesses trailing his hands down your shoulders.

He hovers his lips just shy of yours “If you beg me again like a good slut…” He says bringing your hand to touch the hard bulge in his jeans. “I’ll let you suck my cock again right now.” He confesses grasping his hand on yours making you squeeze the enormity of his caged cock.

You let out a whimper as your knees go weak. Your heart begins pounding as you look into his eyes fighting yourself to be good.

He brings his firm chest to yours and cups his hands on your jaw slowly pulling your face to his. When he presses his soft lips on yours and erotically kisses all over your parted lips it ignites the spark in your core for him.

He licks his tongue across your lower lip coaxing you to open your mouth wider. When you allow him access he plunges his full tongue inside and swirls it around with yours. His lips begin heavily overlapping with you and he holds your jaw steady to take his mouth.

Your fingertips reach his firm biceps and begin to dig into the fabric of his sleeves trying to calm your rising urges for him but it is out of your control.

He grips your neck and pulls you into an even deeper kiss heavily flicking his tongue with yours making you so wet you remember you don’t have panties on. He pulls the kiss staying close with his mouth just inches from you as he speaks.

“Beg me” he says with a rasp in his voice as he presses his hard cock against the front of your pussy. You squirm from arousal and a light moan escapes your lips. He knows you need him just as much as he needs you.

“Please Austin” you beg with pleading eyes. He tucks his hand under your chin and smiles knowing you are desperate enough for his cock. “Beg me like a good slut and get on your knees.”He directs.

Any pride you had left is already gone after seeing yourself satisfy him on video. You immediately lower down on your knees for of him.

“You’re such a good girl for me” he says complimenting your obedience. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans with his restrained cock bulging directly in your face.

He lowers his hand into the band of his black boxers and pulls out his thick veiny cock. His size is so large you go weak from intimidation.“Open your mouth for me” he says placing his hand on your head.

You open your mouth and look up into his eyes as he places his cock head on your wet tongue. He groans at the soft warmth of your mouth and pushes his cock inside giving as much you can take until your mouth is stuffed full to your throat. You close your eyes and whimper around his cock as he rests it still. He guides your head back and forth on his length as you begin to suck his thick cock.

“Thats it baby girl……your doing so good for me…don’t choke” he says with his voice full of arousal. His phone begins to vibrate and he pulls it out of his back pocket answering it on speaker. He sets it on the desk. “Yea…” He says strained. You slide your head back to stop and he pushes your mouth back on him making you stay in place. A female voice comes through the speaker.

“Austin I would only call you if it was difficult and today Alisa is level ten. She wants to come to your house after school today can you pick her up and bring her to your place? ”

It’s Austin’s ex wife on the phone. You want to release his cock from your mouth immediately. You grab his thighs to push off but he holds your head firm on him. He begins gently thrusting into your mouth as you make small whimpers.

”Mmm” he sounds out from the pleasure of feeling his cock glide in and out. “Austin what are you doing? ”His ex wife questions “No no I cant pick her up ….today…. I’m busy” he gets out.

Because he won’t stop thrusting you give in and begin to suck his cock again. “MMM!” He moans louder over the phone as you slowly bob your head along his length. His ex wife gets angry “Look Austin we both know she is only coming over there because of the new girl you have.

She is non stop crying and asking for her and it’s driving me up the wall! I don’t want to do nails I don’t want to braid her hair and I definitely don’t have time for bed time stories!” She admits frustrated.

Austin’s breaths are huffing into the phone from your skill at this point “ Hire …-a nanny ….-then, unless you don’t trust …-Andy around …-her.” he finally struggles out.

“Austin you are such a prick, Andy is not the pervert you are the pervert. Who uploads pics like that to the cloud? Are you dumb? I forgot we even shared that account until the pictures popped up in our shared folder! You’ve been removed by the way. Also knowing you it was probably on purpose!” she snaps. Austin stills your head on his cock clearly engaged in the phone call now.

“Yea you’re right maybe I want you to see the one who pleases me better than you ever could. The way our kids beg for her makes me want her even more. How is Andy in the cock department by the way do you even finish?” There’s a long pause before her voice answers broken “Everything everyone has told be about you is true, you will never change ” the phone clicks.

Austin is enraged after the phone call with his ex. He grips his hand around your hair and pulls you from his cock standing you up and bending you over his office desk. He pins your hands behind you and lifts your shirt over your lower back completely exposing your bare ass for his disposal. "Let me go!! Austin this isn't funny!" you plead trying to release his grip on your wrists.

“C’mon slut stop moving or I will fucking send the videos to Mr.Milano and make him see what a needy whore he recommended." he threatens. You stop your movements after hearing those words. He has even more secret videos of you. "I'm not a slut!!" you say gritting your teeth finally outraged from the way he tricks and mistreats you.

“Oh so now you're not a slut? Then why are you so fucking wet hm?” He says pressing his fingertips to your pussy making a moan escape your lips. “You are nothing more than a filthy slut begging to suck my cock... Or I am wrong?" He leans over you awaiting your obvious response but instead you turn your head to the side not wanting to face him.

Tired of your bratty attitude he leans up without warning and sinks his fingers deep inside of your pussy "A-Ah Austin!!" you accidentally moan out from the pleasurable feeling. "Moaning like a good slut for me now huh?” He says pumping his fingers in and out of you. “Just say it tell me your my slut and I’ll let you cum” he says reaching a brutal pace that makes it impossible for you not to moan and whimper for him.

"N-No, I'm not... I-I'm not your..--..slut" you say breathless from his skill. Your cunt begins making squishing noises from being so wet "What a shame... I thought we had an understanding" he says ramming his knuckles against your wet pussy as his fingers glide in and out. You begin moaning on the desk as your coil tightens and you clench ready to cum. He quickly slips his fingers out leaving you with a desperate empty feeling.

"N-No!!.....please A-Austin!" You beg and jiggle your ass searching for any kind of friction. The only friction you get is a firm clap of his hand spanking your ass. You mewl at how hard he slapped your cheeks. "Uh-uh babe, this is what you're gonna get from me for being such a brat now.....take these spankings until your ass is red or accept you are my slut, only for me.”

You feel the resentment rising in your chest with his two options: either feel him punish you or feel him pleasure you.

“I'm.... I'm your slut.... Only for you A-Austin" you quickly tell him desperate for his pleasure again you are shocked with how fast your said it. For Austin it is music to his ears hearing those pretty words coming from your lips.

"Good girl" he says pushing his fingers deeply in your throbbing cunt again. You moan as he works them in and out at a feverish pace making the squishing noises return in your pussy until you clench on his fingers as you cum. You cry out his name and orgasm feeling the rush of endorphins flood your body as your pussy throbs on his fingers.

He releases your hands and his fingers from you and begins to take off all of his clothing. You turn to watch him undress finally seeing his stunning body. “Oh my god..” you let out looking over his defined chest and abs.

He looks in your eyes smiling as lowers his jeans to stand up revealing the large erect cock extended between his muscular thighs. You begin breathing deeper as a wave of arousal washes over you.

Your eyes are fixated between his legs on his size. His testis and tip are pink in color and his body is perfection matching his stunning face.

He smiles watching how aroused you are and comes closer. He slowly pulls the hem of your shirt lifting it up and over your head to have you naked. His eyes wander your curves with lust and he takes your hands luring you from his desk across the room.

You watch the way his cock sways from one thigh to the other until he rests back onto the large armchair. With his legs apart his cock stands firm and upright in his lap.

“Come fuck me” he commands staring into your eyes. You readily climb onto his lap with one knee on either side of his thighs.

He holds the base of his cock and places his hand on your waist slowly sinking you onto him pushing his large tip through your tight entrance. You try to take him all the way inside of you but stop halfway.

"S'too big A-aus" you pant out. You haven't been accustomed to his size and the overstimulation caused by being stretched makes it difficult for you to relax. "it's okay" he says caressing your arms gazing up into your eyes.

You wonder how he can spank you and call you a filthy slut one moment then be so caring and affectionate the next. It’s almost as if it never happened.

He pulls your body against his chest embracing you as his hands roam your back slowly trailing down and grabbing around your ass cheeks "We gotta make it hurt to make it fit inside." he says and grips your ass forcing you down making you take every inch of his cock.

“Oh f-fuck Austin!” You cry out wrapping your arms around his neck. You mute you whimpers onto his shoulder until the pain becomes to great. "A-Austin!! I don't think I can... T-Take more of i-it" you wail but your cries are like music to his ears, as you beg for him to stop he keeps thrusting into you.

He doesn’t slow his pace, this time he wants to hear you moan his name as you cry out in pain from him stretching your little tight pussy "You're doing so well babe... T-Taking me so..-fucking-... good" he says starting to grind your body against him to get you fitted to his cock.

You move from his chest and place your hands on his shoulders for more stability. You start to ride him knowing the pain will turn into pleasure as he told you before.

The room begins to fill with your moans as his cock starts to satisfy your core and you feel the euphoria from his size ."Oh h-honey, do I really make you feel this good?.... Do you like the feeling of my cock stretching your poor little..-fucking-.. pussy babe?" his voice sounds so raspy and desperate it makes you moan for more of him "mhmm!!" you sound as you nod.

He doesn’t like your stifled answer and corrects you with a harsh spank on your ass making you yelp "Use your words babe... Does your boss make your pussy wet?" He asks never breaking his gaze from your eyes.

You can’t even form words due to the overstimulation. He starts to thrust back into you with more intensity almost making you see stars "F-Fuck!! Yes Austin you do! I need y-you... P-Please Austin" you finally say as tears prick the corners of your eyes awaiting the sweet release of your imminent orgasm.

"Please what babe" He commands as his pace turns erratic, bouncing you on his cock and holding your waist . "m-Make me... Make me cum Austin!!" You shout. The coil already tight in your core gets even tighter as you loudly moan ."Cum babe... S-show me how..-fucking-.. much you-love my cock" he pants out.

You clench on him and cry out in pleasure as your orgasm hits you in powerful waves. Austin thrusts into your walls as they flutter against his cock loving every second of the way your walls squeeze him to try and drain his cum.

Once the fluttering subsides he slows his thrusts to a stop restraining his orgasm. “I can’t cum in you yet babe” he pants out looking into or eyes.

You instinctively slide off of his hard cock climbing down from his lap and kneeling infront of him. He makes a deep groan as you take his cock in your mouth.

You bob your head in a rhythm with your suction and he immediately squirts his cum down your throat.“UUHNNN” he yells gripping your hair as his head falls back. “Fuck!” He yells squeezing his eyes shut “Take all of my cum baby” He begs as he pants out of breath becoming weaker.

You slurp and suck his cock drinking it as he tilts his head down to look at you “fuck baby!” He says making you open your eyes to look up at him as you swallow. His eyes are lidded filled with immeasurable satisfation. “You’re so fucking good” he says breathless as you release his empty cock from your mouth.

He rests his head back onto the armchair again releasing your head and you lift from his cock. He stays lost in thought until he notices you trying to leave and locks eyes with you. “C’mere“ he says making you crawl up his body into his arms. He cuddles you naked on his chest with your ear resting in his shoulder as he brushes your hair back with his fingertips.

“Did you really send those pictures to your ex on purpose?” You ask with the only burning question on your mind” he smiles as he answers “yes.”

“Wont she tell people about us? She sounded really hurt Austin.” You admit. He smiles trailing his hand down your shoulder. “She signed an iron clad NDA she’s not saying shit.” He asserts. “Austin can I get dressed in my clothing now ?” You ask wanting to get on with your day.

“Mmm your yoga outfit belongs to me now baby, I can’t give it back. But I’ll let you wear it and take you shopping at a place I like in town to replace it” he says affectionately. You look up to him smiling that he calls you baby now.

He catches the glimmer of your crush on him in your eyes and he slowly smiles. “Would you like me to take you shopping now?” He asks with a grin and you nod knowing he will spend to spoil you. “Okay let’s get you showered and ready. With the dress you choose I want to take you on a date tonight.” He says watching your eyes light up.

He holds your chin and plants a kiss on your lips before he playfully spanks your ass to get up making you smile against each other. You both redress in his office together and he takes your hand leading you to the master bedroom. You wonder if he’ll ever allow you to go back to your apartment as you think of a way to ask him if you can check in for school tomorrow.

Next Chapter TBA

🥀 Tag list 🥀

@burnthheparaphilia @abswifey @faegoddessog @lindszeppelin @purejasmine @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @fallofthedamned @strangeninjaturtle @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austinbutler #austin butler x reader #fanfic #austin butler smut fic #austin butler fic #smut #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x #austin butler fandom #austin butler imagine #austinbutler x #austin butler reader #yandere #austin butler one shot #yande.re #shameless smut

[wonusite]

Hate to Love You (Not Really)

❝ The only thing worse than spending Valentine’s Day alone is spending it with someone you hate. ❞

PAIRING: lee seokmin x female reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers, coworkers au, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT: 3k

WARNINGS: coworker!seokmin, one sided enemies to lovers, pining, drinking, being forced to share a room, only one bed trope, seokmin is a HUGE simp, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, cockwarming, pussy drunk!seokmin, cock drunk!reader

A/N: this is for the lovely @drunk-on-dk as part of @svthub’s cupid for you collab! i really hope you like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

“We only have one room available.”

Those six words are the worst you’ve heard all day. If it weren’t for the heavy snow falling outside, you would immediately grab your things to try to find any other accommodation for the night. Not that you would have any luck since every other decent hotel you’ve been to is already full.

Seokmin glances over at you, nearly wincing at your dissatisfied expression. He clears his throat and fakes a smile as he looks back at the desk clerk. “We’ll take it. Thank you.”

The walk to your suite is silent and tense. In any other situation, you would’ve loved to stay in a luxury hotel, but being forced to share a room with your insufferable coworker isn’t how you pictured that happening. At least Seokmin isn’t stupid enough to crack one of his unfunny jokes as you two get inside the suite.

As if things weren’t already miserable, you find out that there’s only one large bed and a nice but uncomfortable looking couch. You let out a long, tired sigh. Just your luck. As if your day couldn’t get any worse.

“I’ll take the couch.” Seokmin’s voice is soft. “I don’t mind.”

You whip your head to look at him in surprise. His gaze seems shy, but he maintains eye contact. For some reason, you’re hyper aware of your heartbeat and how it’s slowly increasing. You clear your throat nervously and give him a single nod.

“Cool. Thanks.”

Silence falls over you two again. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward. Mostly on your part because you hadn’t expected Seokmin to act so kindly towards you. After spending the entire day disagreeing about which manufacturer would be the best fit to produce the new wine bottles for the company, you thought he’d keep up his pettiness up to this point.

You tentatively sit on the edge of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. Ideally, you’d like to shower and order room service, but you can’t very well do it comfortably when you’re sharing a room with your coworker who you also happen to dislike a lot.

“Y/N?”

Seokmin’s voice is hesitant, as he inches toward you. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him so nervous. For some sick reason, you feel endeared by the sight.

“Did you want to get dinner? I saw they’re having a special wine tasting event since it’s Valentine’s Day.”

It would be so easy to turn him down, not to mention satisfying. But he’s looking at you so earnestly that you can’t let yourself be the one to crush the hope swimming in his eyes. And you are pretty hungry since you didn’t get to have lunch. Also, having a glass of wine (or several) sounds way too appealing to turn down.

“Okay.”

You’re not sure what demon has possessed you, but it’s one that’s messing with your mind because there’s no way you’re finding your mortal enemy hot right now. Objectively, you know Seokmin is good looking. It’s undeniable, however, you’ve never been able to perceive him as attractive because of how much you dislike him.

Although, right now, in his nice dress shirt that hugs his broad chest just right, you can’t think of him as the same guy who constantly tries to undermine you.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Seokmin says as you two sit down at the table. “I should’ve said something sooner, but when I saw you my brain just short-circuited.”

It’s true. When you stepped out of the bathroom in a slip dress that fit you just right, Seokmin just about died. He knew he must’ve looked like a complete fool just gawking at you without saying anything, but it was just a natural reaction.

Meanwhile, you have to force your expression to stay neutral as the waiter brings out the first wine you two are meant to taste. You’re not sure why Seokmin is suddenly acting so out of character, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling flattered and shy about his behavior.

“Thank you.” The words come out neutral (luckily for you). “You look good too.”

When he smiles at you brightly, you wonder if this is what all the other women in the office feel at the pretty sight. Seokmin has an infectious smile that’s too bright not to reciprocate. You hide most of it through a large gulp of wine, the bittersweet taste quickly marring your expression into one of neutrality again.

“Like it?” There’s a teasing lilt to the question.

You hum against the rim of the crystal glass. “Try it. Tell me what you think.”

It’s hard to control your expression when Seokmin listens to you. He never does, and the fact that he did it so easily is jarring. Also, it doesn’t help that he looks damn good while doing so.

Seokmin lets out a noise of approval. He licks his lips and maintains eye contact with you. “Sweet.”

The smirk he directs at you when you awkwardly cough is infuriatingly attractive. It feels like you’re potentially reading too much into his actions, and before you can really begin to question anything, the next bottle of wine is brought out for you to taste.

You attempt to distract yourself with the wine, but you can feel Seokmin’s eyes on you. There’s something heated about his gaze, and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into him. Still, you can’t bring yourself to outright ask even though you can feel the wine beginning to give you a nice little buzz.

“You must like this one.” Seokmin says, pretty smile still in place.

He says it because you gulped down what was in your glass. What he doesn’t know is that it’s because of him that you feel the need to finish the wine quickly so you can silence all these inappropriate thoughts you’re having.

“You must not.” Comes your rebuttal when you see that he’s barely taken a sip.

Seokmin doesn’t say anything at first. You can see him thinking, almost like he’s contemplating on how to answer you. Finally, he flashes another one of his annoyingly cute smiles at you. “It’s not bad, but seeing you like it so much is better than the taste.”

“What’s your problem?” You demand abruptly, not caring that the waiters who brought out your food are looking like they just walked into the crossfire.

That heart-stopping smile drops off his face, and his expression falls into the familiar cold one you’re used to receiving. Finally, the uncomfortable knot in your chest comes undone, but it’s replaced by a different discomfort.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You scoff, annoyed that he’s not willing to acknowledge his odd behavior. “Yes, you do. Why are you acting like you don’t hate me all of a sudden?”

His gaze becomes hard, but you swear you see a tinge of sadness somewhere in that cold look. “I don’t hate you.”

You can’t understand why he’s lying, and so blatantly at that. It’s obvious that he’s hated you since you inadvertently picked holes in his first major presentation. He’s been out to get you ever since, and you’re not sure why he’s trying to act like you don’t know exactly how he feels about you.

“Right.” You scoff incredulously. “You telling the entire office that you’re capable of doing this project without my help was out of fondness.”

A blush slowly crawls up Seokmin’s neck and spreads across his face. “That—!”

“Oh, and I guess you did me a favor by telling our boss that ‘no woman should spend Valentine’s Day working!’”

Seokmin feels himself start to panic because he had said that, but it’s really not what you think. And he has to clear that up. Like now.

“Will you please just let me explain?”

You’re thrown off because the wine is slowly easing your nerves and because Seokmin looks like a kicked puppy. With a quiet huff, you nod stiffly, not wanting to make a scene even though some of the people at the surrounding tables are already looking at you funny.

“I just– I didn’t want you to have to spend today with me.”

Everything just seems to stop. Seokmin looks so remorseful and like he’s about to cry that you can’t think of his explanation as anything other than the truth. But then there’s the big question looming on your mind: Why would someone who hates you try to do something so kind for you? Unfortunately, you’re so thrown off that you can’t form a coherent response.

“You– What?”

Seokmin lets out a forced laugh. Your dumbfounded expression is adorable and makes him think that maybe he hadn’t entirely screwed up.

“Last month, I overheard you telling Josh that you had big plans today. When we were put on the project together and found out we had to work today, I tried everything so you wouldn’t be forced to spend the day with me. I’m an idiot for not realizing how you would feel about the things I said and I’m sorry.”

If only this sweet, silly man knew the big plans you mentioned involved five of your favorite romcoms and a bottle of wine. You can’t fully process the onslaught of emotions hitting you with full force, and you wish you had the capacity to answer him intelligently.

“But… why? Why would you do that for me?”

Seokmin can feel the heat coming from his face, but he soldiers on with what he hopes is anything but an embarrassed expression. “Like I said. I don’t hate you.”

You just blink at him, and he has to laugh.

“It’s true. And I’ll prove it to you.”

Just when you think he can’t surprise you anymore, he signals over a worker you hadn’t noticed before. The lovely woman had been handing out single pink roses, and now she was giving Seokmin the remaining ones after he slipped her several bills. You gape at him as he boldly hands them to you with that dumb, endearing smile.

“For you.” He nudges them toward you. “I know you would’ve preferred red or white roses, but I’ll get them for you some other time.”

Now his words are making your brain short circuit because what the fuck? How could he know your preferences and what did he mean that he would get you your favorite flowers next time?

All your rationality has gone out the window, and so have your inhibitions. It’s why you don’t care to cut the dinner short while telling Seokmin to follow you upstairs. He’s so obedient that you eat it all up. That and his needy kisses are too addicting for you to think about how wrong you’d been this entire time.

“You feel good, pretty girl?” Seokmin wonders from between your thighs.

His entire body burns with desire when you give him a heated look as you slowly roll your hips, grinding your soaking cunt down on his awaiting mouth. You do it with a neediness that has his eyes rolling and his cock twitching. Seokmin has never looked hotter to you than he does with your arousal covering his mouth and chin. You’re so turned on that your juices are slowly dripping down into a mess on the sheets bellow you.

“Amazing.” You breathe out through a whine as Seokmin dives back in, flicking his tongue on your throbbing clit before fucking it into your needy hole.

His cock is leaking and twitching as he drinks up every last bit of your arousal. Seokmin moans and groans into your cunt as you eagerly meet every movement of his tongue with an enthusiastic grind of your hips.

“Fuck, baby. Wanna make you come.”

You clench around his tongue at hearing the earnest words. It makes you arch into him more, loving how his tongue is splitting though your folds and slurping up all your arousal eagerly. He drags his wet muscle over your clit before sucking and rolling it like he would do to an addicting candy.

He’s so into eating you out, so fucked out by your taste alone that you can’t stop your quickly approaching orgasm. Seokmin’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head, moaning and whimpering about how you taste like absolute heaven. There’s even a moment where he lets it slip about how long he’s longed to have a taste of you, and that just does it for you.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and you two moan in pleasure together. Seokmin’s cock throbs wildly at the sweet taste of your cream. He licks every inch of your pretty pussy, not wanting to waste even a single drop of what you’re giving him.

“God.” You breathe out, legs trembling around his head. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

Expectedly, Seokmin does exactly as you want. You don’t care that you might need some time to adjust to his cock’s impressive size, you just need him.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this, angel.” Seokmin hums against your jaw as his fat tip teases your entrance. “All needy and wet, just for me.”

“Please.” You whine into his cheek as he laces your hands together. “Want you so bad, baby.”

Your moans are loud and downright pornographic when Seokmin finally eases his throbbing cock into your cunt. You’re so warm and wet and tight that he already feels addicted. He could come just from bottoming out, but he won’t. Not before he feels you come on his cock.

You arch your back, mouth dropped open in pleasure. “Fuck me!”

And he does, nice and deep. Your legs hook around Seokmin’s slim waist to push him in deeper. His cock is ramming against a spot no one else came close to touching, and you’re sm quickly starting to lose yourself to the pleasure consuming you. His big cock smoothes along your velvety walls with every rough snap of his hips, and you don’t even try to contain your cries of pleasure.

“Feels so good.” You whimper into Seokmin’s mouth when he turn to plant a messy kiss to your lips.

Your eyes roll back as his tongue forces it’s way into your mouth. His thumb brushes the back of your hand gently, the tender action only spurring you on as you try to meet the wet connection of his hips with needy grinds of your own.

Seokmin’s cock throbs inside you, seeming to swell at your words. He reluctantly pulls way from your lips, hips not stopping for a second. Every thrusts feels like the air is lowly being forced out of your lungs. But you love every second. All you can do is moan out his name with ravenous desire as he fucks his cock into you.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight.” Seokmin groans as his free hand trails down to your swollen nub. It’s so cute to hear you moan out for him as he starts to rub gentle yet fast circles into your clit. “Feels so good around me. Sh-Shit, Y/N. Never wanna stop fucking you. Want to be inside this pretty pussy all the time!”

You’re so turned on by his need for you and your pussy that you can feel yourself on the verge of coming. Especially with the way his fingers twist around your messy clit. Your inside are fluttering as his leaking tip rams into your soft spot over and over again.

“G-Gonna come!” You cry out and you squeeze the hand that is still wrapped around yours.

You focus on his rough thrusts and how his hips dig into yours as his big cock stretches your little pussy open to fit him inside. The restless flicks to your puffy nub push you over the edge as Seokmin urges you to come for him. He licks and sucks on your pulse point just to drive you more insane than you already feel.

“Seokmin!”

Your orgasm tips through you intensely as you crema all over his aching cock. Seokmin curls his body over yours, wrapping his brawny arm around you back to press himself against you. Now you’re stuck in his strong yet gentle embrace, bodies practically molded into one as he continues to split you open.

His thrusts become sloppy as he keeps on fanning the flames of your orgasm. “Need to fill you up, angel. Want to see your pretty pussy dripping with my cum.”

“Come inside me!” You beg, eyes rolling back. “Stuff me full!”

Seokmin smashes his lips on yours, greedily swallowing your moans as he empties himself inside your hot cunt. His entire body shudders in pleasure as he fucks his cum deeper into you.

“Fuck, baby. Take it all. It’s just yours, angel.”

You’re slowly coming down from you high when you feel Seokmin’s lip brush against your ear. “I’m not done yet.”

That’s when you find out he’s just as insatiable as you are.

“Fuck.” Seokmin moans against your neck as his thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier.

He’s so drunk on the feeling of your hot cunt that he feels any coherent thoughts start to get hazy. “So fucking pretty. Always so fucking pretty.”

Seokmin pulls you in for another kiss, hips still grinding into yours with a need that turns you on beyond belief. You’ve already came on his cock two more times, and he’s mad with clear that he won’t stop until he stuffs your pussy one more time. Which he does. Thick ropes of his cum spill into you, adding to the mess on his heavy balls and the sheets bellow you.

His next kiss is gentle yet passionate. Seokmin hums into your mouth, still making no move to pull out. His cock acts as a plug for all his cum, and when you shift he groans against your lips.

“Let me stay inside you, baby.” He pleads with shining eyes. “Please.”

“Okay.” You sigh as he rolls you over so your weight is on top of him now.

And it’s only when your on the cusp of sleep that you realize Seokmin still hasn’t let go of your hand.

#lee seokmin smut #seokmin smut #svt smut #svthub #svthub.collab #seokmin x reader #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seokmin x you #lee seokmin x you #svt x you #seokmin imagines #lee seokmin imagines

[whathorselegs]

I think the main part of my Chuuya overworks himself and is a chronic people pleaser headcanon comes from the fact actual Nakahara Chuuya's poem 'The Village Clock' is imprinted on my brain.

'The big village clock was working day and night. The clockface's paint had already lost it's shine. When I drew near, there were lots of tiny cracks.'

Not the full poem, but the lines that really stick for me. This is just Chuuya to me. Keeping going, keeping working, not smiling as much as he used to. Keeping up appearances. Keeping even his friends at a distance so they don't see he's not as happy as he used to be.

I agree in the latest chapters Chuuya looks tired as hell, but his eyes have always read as tired to me. He's always looked like he needed a nap (It took a moment to find a mostly neutral expression in his introduction because, well, the Dazai effect). The straight across upper eyelids and the rounded lower eyelids just scream "I'm too tired for this" to me

It's quotes from the Mayoi 'Joyous night' cards.

Kouyou: "Chuuya are you saying you can't have what I'm drinking? There's no need to worry so long as you drink in moderation. Surely you can afford a glass at a banquet." Chuuya: "What are you drinking Ane-san? Wine, is it? Interesting... No, I couldn't. I'm you're escort. If something were to happen while I was drunk, well... *sigh* Alright, maybe just a glass. This is a banquet, after all."

Like, yes, I'm fairly certain these are in reference to Chuuya being a lightweight and not wanting to get drunk at a fancy party. But it's also Chuuya not allowing himself to have fun. Kouyou realistically doesn't need escort, Chuuya was likely asked along because she enjoys his company.

It's wine. He collects wine and he won't even allow himself to indulge in his own interests because he's too busy unnecessarily worrying about Kouyou and how people will perceive him at the banquet.

It's the fact despite there being several high ranking mafia members introduced by the time of the three way conflict, Mori always uses Chuuya for his plans. There's really no need for an executive to be the one to check up on the hired assassins, or deliver information to the ADA.

Chuuya even remarks upon it himself, saying he didn't think himself fit for the role of envoy. But he does it because the boss ordered him to. He won't say no.

I don't think Chuuya is the same type of overworker Kunikida is. Kunikida has to have everything done right, he needs it done on time. He has a set of meticulous rules and practices to ensure it gets done correctly.

I doubt Chuuya is the type to be worried over his reports being perfect or "in on time" because he's part of the mafia. This isn't a day job. Sure, there probably deadlines where stuff is time sensitive, but again, Chuuya is an executive. He can delegate such work to subordinates if needs be. I definitely don't think he's above coasting his work and putting in minimum effort as long as the job gets done.

I think Chuuya is an over worker in the sense, that even if he's exhausted, even if he wants to go home and collapse, if Mori handed him another job, he'd do it. He has a hard time saying no to people and it carries over into his work.

And he has difficulty shutting off work mode once he's home. "Might as well sort those emails while I have some spare time" Turns into Chuuya unable to sleep hours later because he lost track of time, drank too much caffeine and has a migraine from staring at a screen for so long.

As for being a chronic people pleaser? Well, we mostly see that in Wan or the anthologies. As I've already stated, Chuuya has a hard time saying no to people close to him. It's important that it's not everyone. If he doesn't know them, he can and will tell them to beat it, if he wants to.

But show him a little of bit kindness? An ounce of respect? Be nice to him for a moment and the people pleasing button gets pressed. He goes about it in a round about way, he can't have you know that's what he's doing so Chuuya makes up excuses as to why he's doing it, but he does it all the same.

We see it when he buys Kenji dinner, or makes everyone shaved ice and plenty of other examples. He has to go above and beyond. He wants you to be impressed because he wants the praise, but he can't have you know that's what he wants.

The only person he doesn't do this with is Dazai. And that's probably to do with how they met at 15 (also because Dazai annoys the hell out of him). They met when Chuuya's people pleasing was at its worst, when he was King of Sheep and had next to no will of his own because Chuuya was too afraid of losing the Sheep to not do as they say. Dazai breaks him out of that.

For all they make the bet that Chuuya's his dog, aside from the odd joke, Dazai is never seen making good on that. He never orders Chuuya around like a dog, they are partners and he treats him as such. When Dazai witnesses Chuuya being treated this way by the sheep, he looks annoyed, he doesn't like seeing it. Chuuya being his dog was always just a silly joke.

Dazai being so annoying that Chuuya couldn't stand to do what he said helped Chuuya break out of some of his people pleasing habits and learn saying no was okay. After Dazai defected, I think those habits came back as Chuuya had to fill the role of Mori's right hand in his absence.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #bsd #my writing #bsd headcanons #Chuuya needs a holiday #Let him have some peace please #Chuuya Sigma and Dazai are all going on a road trip after the prison break #and nothing bad will happen #just fun vibes and locking Dazai in the trunk when he's being annoying

[ciaraswritings]

Gossip and Galas

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Alcohol, derogatory language, crowds, sexual references, comfort. 18+.

Word Count: 1.9K words

Summary: Shortly after her engagement to Bruce Wayne, fem!reader is met with the gossip that comes with it at one of his charity galas.

Author's Note: Finally made a masterlist, so go ahead and check that out for more fluffy stories like this. Comforting fics like this are just what I like for winter weather. I hope all of you are having a wonderful holiday season, and I hope you enjoy.

My bracelets clinked against each other on my wrist, sliding down my arm as I lifted my hand to brush back my hair, my focus never leaving the man whose arm I was grasping. He stood tall, the suit looking almost small on his frame, smiling politely while he escorted me into the ballroom. This year’s charity gala was quite full, very few people had sent their regrets. The champagne gown that hung over my body glittered, matching the diamond jewelry framing my face.

One diamond I kept hidden in my fiance's arm, dodging the prying eyes full of curiosity. Everyone wanted to see the size of the rock he had placed on my finger, desperate to be the first to share the flaming news. He had only proposed a week before, and it had hit the news almost overnight. Now, it was a free-for-all to see who could get the inside scoop first.

Breaking through my thoughts, he tilted his head downwards to hum, “Did I tell you that you look stunning tonight?” 

His comment pulled a smile out of my peach-tinted lips. “You’ve said that six times.”

“Then let me say it a seventh time, you look absolutely stunning.” With the gentlest touch, he placed his hand over my arm in a comforting gesture. The affection made me forget everything for a moment, before the inevitable began. 

Guests from all directions began to approach us, important names from all over Gotham, curious voices disguised with polite words. His smile opened ten different conversations at once, and I contented myself with the image of a silent trophy wife. Naturally, I had plenty to say, many words I wanted to make heard, but this was neither the time nor the place. 

As I moved my left hand away from Bruce’s arm to brush away a strand of hair from my face, someone caught it in a tight grip. 

“What a beautiful ring this is! What a size! Your finger is going to get tired of wearing that…” My hand was immediately surrounded by a group of five or six women, all peering down at the newly acquired engagement ring. My natural reaction was to jerk my hand back, but as I did, I was met with disapproving and disheartening looks from the curious viewers. I slowly let my hand slide back into place, allowing them to inspect with judgemental astonishment. 

I turned my head back to Bruce in a silent plea for rescue, but he was occupied with a champagne glass in his hand and several well-dressed gentlemen holding his attention. Now a small crowd was gathered around my hand, many pairs of eyes leering. Using my sweetest smile, I was slowly able to pry free from the spectators and rejoin my fiance in the moment. The moment didn’t last very long. 

As more and more people moved past, my lips became a straighter and straighter line. When Bruce noticed that my grip on his arm was becoming a little too tight for comfort, he turned to me with a whisper. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, can we… start walking?” I turned my head in the direction of the bar. 

“Of course.” He gently guided me in the alluring direction of sparkling wine glasses, leaving a small trail of party-goers behind us. 

Several exchanged words later between the bartender, and he placed a glass of wine in my hand, which I began to sip instantly. “Sorry I’m getting so uptight, I always think I’m going to handle parties better than I do.” 

“It’s okay. Don’t think twice about it.” He placed a kiss on my cheek before eyeing another group of guests walking towards us with conversation topics written all over their faces. “Do you mind?”

“No, no, of course not. Go on, have fun.” My smile was fake, but my love was real. I watched him move off into the crowd, entertaining the many who were trying to catch his eye. He was going to have a good time, socialize, and later tonight I’d get all his attention.

I moved into a corner, next to a large, decorative ivory pillar where I could ease my tension and finish my glass of wine. I watched another party of women moving past me, their stares nearly piercing my left hand. Quickly, I shifted my glass into my right hand and put my left behind my back. Not only did I feel judged, I felt ridiculous. Tonight I was supposed to be the princess on the arm of my prince, ravishing in the glory of the spotlight.

It didn’t feel like glory, and I didn’t feel glorious. I didn’t want to be on his arm right now. As exciting as it was to be nearly royal for a night, after all the comments, whispers, and questions, I felt used, almost dirty. Tonight I’d been called many things in overheard conversation. So far I could mark gold-digger, leech, and other appealing titles off the list.

As I took a rather embarrassing gulp of my wine, I could hear feminine voices moving closer on the other side of the pillar. I turned my head, ready to move to a more secluded spot, before I caught a snippet of their conversation. When I heard my name, I sucked in my stomach, trying to disappear behind the stone to eavesdrop. 

“Did you see how vain she looked on his arm? I can’t believe how proud she is.”

“Especially after he probably pulled her out of the gutter. Who knows how many rich, brainless guys she’s played around with.” 

“You know she’s just waiting to sink her teeth into that divorce settlement.”

“Can you believe he’s so dense that he’d buy her such a huge ring? Somebody’s gotta tell him before she runs away with the next moneybag that smiles at her.”

“He’ll definitely be single in a few months. Don’t worry, Liv, you’ll get your shot with him.”

“Where’d she even come from?”

“Streets, no doubt.”

“You know, that’s probably why he’s with her! He hired her and then…”

“He fell for her the first time she gave him head.”

“Girls like her…”

“I know. What a slut.”

Gold-digger I could handle. Leech hurt, but it was fine. Slut was a cut I couldn’t manage right now. Maybe if my social energy wasn't gone, I might’ve appeared from behind the pillar looking like a goddess and given them a smart remark that would leave their glossed mouths gaping and their confidence rattled.

But that wasn’t where I was at right now. 

Instead I was back at the bar, fleeing their snickers and giggles, asking the bartender to hand over another bottle of Cabernet and to not ask questions. With the bottle tucked safely under my arm and the stem of a wine glass between my fingers, I fled to the safety of the private quarters of the manor. Before I ascended the first flight of stairs, I kicked off my heels, letting them lay where they landed on the floor. My feet immediately felt relief even while climbing flight after flight of stairs till I reached the master bedroom Bruce and I had come to share. 

Realizing I had no corkscrew with me, I glared down at the bottle, calculating the quickest way to open it. I don’t need all my teeth, I thought to myself. Before I could get a chance to pry out the cork, the bedroom door opened behind me, startling me. I whipped around, my heart racing, feeling guilty for abandoning the gala and running away to drink alcohol.

“Thought you might need this.” Bruce stood in the doorway with a corkscrew, his face riddled with concern and a bit of amusement. 

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” I ordered, marching to him and taking it from his hand. “And don’t act like you don’t have a thousand people downstairs asking for you. Duty calls.” I tried to shoo him away with my hand before he caught my wrist and pressed a kiss to my palm.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I saw your face when you left.”

“Go away, I have a date with a wine glass. I’ll tell you later.”

“(Y/N).” He calmly ushered me away from the door and sat me on the foot of the bed.

“I heard some… people… saying… things… about me.” I managed to get out. 

“Which people? I’ll have them removed right now. What did they say?” His fingers brushed away loose hair that hung in front of my face.

“Nothing. I don’t want to think about it. Let me just…” I looked at him and then at the waiting bottle of Cabernet. 

“Absolutely, want some company?”

Yes. “No, it’s okay. You need to get back.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“Yes, you do! The gala has two more hours to run!” 

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll go next year.”

“Right. I’m serious, you’re going to be missed.”

“I’d rather be missed by them than by you.” His eyes glared into mine with stubborn insistence. I sighed.

“I’m not getting rid of you, am I?” 

“Not at all.”

“...Okay.”

Bruce grinned triumphantly before making his way to the cabinet in the corner of the room and retrieving another wine glass. When he returned, his arm automatically wrapped around my waist. “Tell me what they said about you.”

“It’s not worth it,” I replied, finally managing to open the bottle of wine.

“Allow me,” Bruce took the bottle from my hand to pour both our glasses and pressed a kiss behind my ear. “You’re going to tell me after you finish this glass anyway, might as well tell me now.” 

My glare wasn’t enough to deter him from his quest for an answer. “They said you pulled me from the streets, and that I was a slut, and I was going to divorce you and run away with somebody else…” 

“But that’s not true, is it?” He caught my chin with his fingers and tilted it upwards, forcing me to look into his eyes. “I didn’t find you on the streets, I found you doing what you’re best at, working hard and making a career for yourself. I can’t think of a more admirable thing you could be doing.” 

I smiled at the flashback to when we had crossed paths in a business meeting. “Mhm.”

“If anything, I don’t deserve you. Not only are you beautiful, you complete me. You make me better.” 

My eyes closed as he pressed a very passionate, loving kiss to my lips. His hand rested on my waist, stroking with his thumb, sending tingles up my spine. When my eyes opened again, he was smiling. I couldn’t help but do the same. “Okay. Thank you for… all of this. Leaving the party for me.”

“You will always come first. What else did they say?”

“They said you fell in love with me the first time I gave you head.” 

He tilted his head, pretending to ponder the statement. “Well…”

Laughing, I gently shoved his shoulder. “Bruce!” 

“Okay, okay.” 

Below, the party-goers searched for us, but we didn’t return. The feeling was transforming, suddenly I felt like the most important and beautiful woman in the world. His world. There, with him, I started to feel myself not care what they said about me or what names they came up with. Here, I was just his. And that was enough.

#fluff #batman imagine #dc comics #dcu #fanfiction #female reader #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #dc batman #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfic #batmom #batfamily #batman fanfic #batman fluff #batman fanfiction #dc imagine #dc #dc fanfic #dc fluff #fem reader #batman x fem!reader #batman x y/n #x reader #fanfic

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: ghost!gojo satoru x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

about: the bump you’ve been hearing in the night isn’t just your imagination, it’s a friendly ghost. a handsome ghost. a ghost who you've befriended that isn't so sure he wants to share you.

contents: nsfw - mdni. you are enjoying oral sex (f!receiving) from a ghost, voyeurism (he's a creep but reader is into it ♡), vaginal fingering, alcohol consumption, mentions of masturbation, possessiveness leaning on yandere behavior, reader is referred to with feminine terms (pretty girl) and is stated to be wearing a dress.

notes: welcome to thot-o-ween 2023! we are kicking things off with my ghostly boyfriend and im gonna be honest with u guys here, i didn't do extensive research about the ins and outs of ghost sex but he can materialize and harden the parts of him he wants to and let's leave it at that, okay? thank you to @rossithepixie for beta reading this bad boy and i hope you enjoy! happy halloween!

Another unlucky night, you lament upon arriving back to your apartment. Your keys jingle in the door as you turn the lock with your uncomfortable heels dangling from your hand, pushing the door inward and slumping with each step forward. 

Third dates usually end better than this but it seems your last several third dates have ended with nothing satisfying, polite kisses and wishes for a good evening. It’s hard not to internalize the rejection given this is the fourth person it has happened with and you drop your heels with a thud on the hardwood below, padding across the floor and working off your jewelry, contorting your wrist to unclasp your bracelet.

“Back already?”

A sigh and a shake of your head mark that you already know who the voice belongs to despite being unable to witness its owner. Tossing your bracelet down on the coffee table, you slump against the couch with an unimpressed grunt and jump slightly when you look up to see a pair of blue eyes with white hair falling in them staring back at you.

You don’t know why you expected anything less than Satoru being ready to gloat that you’ve returned home empty handed but you hoped for at least a little bit of time to lick your wounds.

“Well hello to you, too,” you snip and he chuckles. The dim overhead light shines through him reminding you that he isn’t quite human, something it’s all too easy to forget given his charming grin and affable nature, and he hops over the top of the couch in a flash and plops down next to you. 

You still aren’t sure how you ended up with a ghost as a freeloading roommate nor how you’re able to not only see but feel and communicate with him but at least he makes good company after your failed attempts at finding love. He’s always there with a silly joke or a goofy smile to make things hurt a little less.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it has been to find comfort in this specter, a figment of a man left on Earth for reasons you’ll never know, but hey - a friend’s a friend when you’re lonely.

“Not sure what happened this time,” you explain while standing up. He watches your every move, eyes dancing across your chest and trailing down your waist and hips as your dress settles back across them. Taking one look at you, hunger rises within him but he swallows it as you walk to the kitchen and he hears the telltale noise of a corkscrew at work.

He can be as patient as he needs for as long as he needs given his games have worked up until this point. You pour a glass of wine, another sitting next to your full glass, and you furrow your brow.

“Satoru?”

He looks over the couch, eyes narrowing as he sees your relaxed posture and the way you lean against the counter next to you. It has to be the dress, he thinks, that hugs every delicious curve and has made the already thin tether he keeps on his self control further loosen.

“Yeah?”

You smile when he responds, pulling your glass away from your lips. His eyes fall on the lipstick stain left behind and he has to curl his fist in his lap and keep his face neutral to keep his frustration from showing.

“Ghosts don’t eat or drink, right?”

He shrugs, arm dangling over the side of the couch as he watches you slip the glass back into the cupboard above your head. You’re assuming that he isn’t interested in the wine despite how his eyes follow your every move. It isn’t unusual that you feel him watching you, having to draw boundaries on where he is and is not allowed to be several times given how you’ve seen his face after wiping the mirror off post shower, but this feels different. Weighted. Maybe he’s worried about your ego after your failed conquests.

“Not usually, no, but we can make exceptions.”

Raising your eyebrows, you hum at the way he accentuates the last word. Another sip and warmth fills you, wine relaxing your frazzled nerves. You approach the couch again and slip next to him, pulling your knees to your chest with an amused smile.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, looking up at you through his lashes. Sliding your wine onto the table beside you, you consider for a moment what to say next not knowing where your words could possibly lead. He’s harmless, friendly, and a friend.

A little flirtation just to make sure you’re still capable of it couldn’t possibly hurt anything, could it?

“What kind of exceptions do you make when it comes to eating, Satoru?”

You wonder what he was like when he was alive - was he just like this? All jokes and fun and bluster or was he serious, tied down by responsibilities and pain? Was he this handsome even when the light didn’t shine through him, illuminating him in a way that makes you wonder if he isn’t an angel rather than a thing that goes bump in the night?

“Hmm…well. Children, small animals…” he pretends to be thinking, fingers stroking his chin and you laugh raucously at his display. He shakes his head and puts his other hand on your calf, cold fingers sending shivers crawling through the limb. You make a show of shivering but don’t shove him off, instead moving closer.

“Anything else?”

He hums at your question, hand sliding from your calf to your exposed knee. Your dress rides further and further up your thighs and he can almost see the lacy little panties he watched you slip over your legs before leaving. He spent all evening thinking of the way the trimmed hair covering your mound poked through the holes in the lace, pacing the apartment hoping, hoping, hoping that this time would be the time where you took the rejection personally enough to seek him out for comfort.

It seems his plan is working flawlessly and he’s smug, raising his chin and looking down his nose at you just enough that it makes you shutter. You aren’t sure if it’s the wine or maybe that you’re reading too much into the situation, but you watch raptly as his mouth moves.

“Sometimes I eat really pretty girls if the appetite strikes.”

Raising your brows, you lean forward and look up at him. He knows all too well what that look means, unfortunately having to witness you flash it at the few people you’ve managed to bring home over the last ten months of living here, but he can forget about them now that it is pointed at him.

“Oh is that so?”

He nods, hand crawling further up your leg. You wish you could describe the sensation, a cold static, the trace of his touch across your skin, but words fail you as his eyes blaze. The tension is thick and it’s almost puzzling how you ended up here, scooting closer and closer with each second that passes. His hand dances at the hem of your dress, fingers slipping beneath and grazing the soft skin beneath it and he moans.

“How long have you wanted to do that for, I wonder?”

You giggle, ass scooting across the couch to drape your legs over his thighs and hips. The two of you sit across from one another, legs barely spread, and you take a step to spread yours further.

“I think the better question is how long have you wanted me to do it for?”

Raising your brows as his touch creeps further upward, you wonder if you haven’t met your match in the form of the eerily tall specter that lingers over the back of your couch. He makes himself scarce unless he wants to be seen, pounding footsteps and shifting on the shelves hanging on your wall the only trace of him when others are around. 

You stop yourself on that thought and he sees awareness dance across your face, recalling the moments where your last several dates were in the apartment and you had to insist the rustling was the pet cat you do not have fiddling with things in your room or down the hallway.

“Have you been…” the accusation slips past your lips and you can’t stop it, head tipping as he reaches out and cups your face with his free hand, one hand still sliding across the bottom of your panties. His cool fingers are a rush across your heated skin, hotter now than it was a few moments prior, and he nods.

“Yeah, I have been.” He expects you to react more strongly than you are but your mouth remains agape and wordless. “You keep bringing these idiots home and it’s my job to make sure they know you already have everything you need right here.”

He shifts position onto his stomach, his long legs dangling over the arm of the couch as his lips, cool and soft, follow the same pattern his fingers were previously taking. He laces your calf with kisses, licking the curve of your knee and nibbling as he reaches the soft of your inner thigh and you feel your hips buck instinctively. 

You should kick him off of you, disgusted by his antics, but you feel your slick pussy lips rub against one another as you shift where you sit. Those electric eyes are locked on you and he dips his fingers beneath the lace that spurred his frenzy, groaning as he comes into contact with your searing hot warmth and the wetness seeping from your cunt.

“Seems like you aren’t disappointed to hear that,” he taunts, nibbling your soft skin again while working one long digit across your slit. You gasp when the back of his finger brushes against your swollen clit and he chuckles. “You wanna hear what else I’ve been doing since we’re bein’ honest?”

Satoru’s finger traces the same pattern through your slit, finger gliding easily along the sensitive skin and you nod, lip between your teeth. You want to witness exactly what he’s doing to you because the feeling is indescribable - more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. 

“I’ve been watching you,” he withdraws his finger from your panties and you whimper, brow furrowing. Eyes fixed on him, you watch as he pulls the finger into his mouth and hums at the taste. The wet digit is removed from his mouth with a pop and he slides it back into your panties, dipping into your cunt only to make your back arch. 

“Watching you do that,” he nods at your last movement. “With that noisy vibrator. With the showerhead.” He continues, mouth moving closer to your panty covered pussy with each word. “With people who don’t deserve it.”

Another chill runs through you at the insinuation that he has been watching you…everywhere. In the shower, in your bedroom, in the living room with a blanket pulled over your lap for some sense of decorum. Your walls clench around his finger and he finally lowers his face to your pussy, licking a broad stripe over the front of your underwear. 

Tipping your head back, you moan his name and it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard in life or after it. He licks another strip, tip of his tongue tracing your slit through the lace, and you reach behind you to grasp onto a throw pillow.

“I’ve been waiting for when you’d pick up on it but it seems my pretty girl wanted to believe I’m nothing but a friendly houseguest,” he taunts from between your legs but you are at his mercy enough that you don’t mind the challenge. 

You like the way his eyes shine as they look down at your core, as if he’s found a prize that he has searched many lifetimes for. He has and he holds himself back from making further moves, taking the time to keep you wound up.

“You’re mine now no matter who you bring in here, you know that right?”

You nod, and he tuts from below. You aren’t getting off that easily.

“Say it,” he prompts. “Say you’re mine.”

Untucking your lip from between your teeth, you reach out and try to grab his face but find it’s futile, phasing through him as it drops back down to the couch below. You try again, raising your hand to be met with the same results, and he waits.

“Say it and I’ll let you touch me too.”

You aren’t certain of how that works but he would know more about the delicate relations between a ghost and a human so you acquiesce, nodding while you look at him.

“I’m yours,” you whisper and he wastes no time going back to work, dipping his head back down to your covered cunt and pulling your panties away. He inhales, eyes fluttering shut at the scent of your arousal, and you reach to touch him to find you can merely graze him, fingers dancing along his sharp jawline. It’s enough for now, distracted by how his tongue now dances between your folds.

“Fuck that’s so good,” you whimper and he wraps his lips around your aching clit, your back arching to put all of you in his face. He loves it, surrounded by your thighs and your scent and your beauty, and he hums his pleasure around the bud.

Releasing your clit, he begins to once again lap at you like a man starved, tongue dragging from your bud to your entrance and down lower, the sensation still one you are struggling to name. You’ve been on the receiving end of good oral sex more than once but this physically feels like something you’ve never experienced, cold and hot and spiritual. It’s difficult to describe so you don’t bother, keeping moans spilling from your mouth instead.

Continuing to lave his tongue across the mess he’s making of your pussy, he swallows thickly and looks up at your pleasured face. The sight makes him smile, more than happy he has finally managed to get his way, and he adds another finger to the one he has kept massaging your insides. His tongue retracts but you don’t mind, long fingers filling you more than you anticipated and drawing gasps from you.

“Just remember,” his blue eyes fall to where his fingers curl against your pelvis, squelching with your wetness and his saliva. “I can follow you wherever you go.”

You gasp when his fingers curl against the spongy spot inside of you that makes your head swim, walls once again gripping him so tightly he can hardly move so he settles in place.

“You’ll never get away from me now.”

Nodding, you smirk and it turns into a gasp when he runs his thumb over your clit, hips canting to match the rhythm his fingers were working at before they stopped.

“You assume I want to,” you shoot back breathlessly through swollen lips. You’ve been gnawing that lower lip a little too hard and it’s plump, slick with spit and he admires the shine while you speak. “Maybe you'll never get away from me.”

Raising his brows, Satoru wonders if this wasn’t your endgame all along. Recalling all the times you spread your legs and stroked your pussy on the couch, knowing he could see it; memorizing all of the people who have darkened your doorstep, only to get you all warmed up and then be sent away - you making the choice instead to moan into the cool dark of your room while making yourself cum again and again.

“Looks like we’re on the same page then,” he confirms and you smile. His mouth goes back to work, tongue slurping and drinking every bit of you that he can, and you feel yourself edging closer and closer to cumming for him, for real, this time. 

His fingers work inside of you and he closes his mouth over your sensitive clit, your mouth opening in a wordless shout with your release. You weren’t expecting it to come just yet but you won’t complain, head drooping backwards and eyes shut tightly. The on top of the world feeling is coaxed out of you for as long as it can be, his mouth mercifully releasing you when you start breathing heavily. 

His face rests against your thigh, glistening chin backlit and shining, and you reach out to touch him again and gasp when your touch lands, fingers wrapping around his jaw. Again, you won’t question it knowing that the best orgasm of your life just came at the hands of this man…or spirit…Whatever he is, you aren’t terribly concerned about it.

“I feel like I need to take you out to dinner now,” you tease breathlessly and he laughs, cheek still pressed to your thigh. Placing a kiss, he winks in your direction and you feel that familiar heat rise in you once again.

“We have all the time in the world for that, now don’t we?”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #thot o ween 23 #monster mash 23 #kendall writes

[cambion-companion]

Can’t stop thinking of a tav who just showers Raphael in attention and affection. It’s the little things like listening attentively to his plays and dramatizations whenever they ask anything, to looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, cupping his face as if he’s some kind of precious lovely thing instead of you know, A DEVIL

Just tenderness because that’s not something common in the world of devil and demons (I think?)

Ps: love your writing!

Hi! Thank you! I took the opportunity to write more Patron!Raphael, with a little bardic twist!

Raphael x reader (gn)

You were Raphael’s favorite.

This knowledge you wore with great pride and much to the aggravation of his other servants.

You had never expected a patron Fiend to be so dynamic.  His passion for the performing arts rivaling even your own.  You’d struggled being a bard for so long, working your fingers raw upon the instruments that refused to sing for you.  Your creative abilities severely stunted.  Until Raphael entered your life.

The cambion had carefully watched your passion to act and dance, recognizing in you his own desire to draw down the magic of words upon parchment.

You had been so eager to sign his contract, agreeing to serve him and spread his own creations to the material plane in exchange for unhindered, undiluted talent.

Raphael was quite pleased with this arrangement.  Under his mortal disguise he would often attend your little shows, his amber eyes glinting with self-satisfaction as he watched his little bird channel his creations. Through you, Raphael gained another taste of what being a god must feel like.

At the end of another long recitation of one of Raphael’s more laborious poems, you watched the guests file from the room and took a welcome drink of cool water for yourself.

Raphael leaned against the marble pillar, idly swirling a glass of red wine as he studied you.

“You’re not enunciating enough during the last stanza.”  Raphael tutted lightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “The attention of your guests lapses accordingly.”

You grimaced and rubbed your sore throat. “Sure, it’s my enunciation. Not the fact you drone on about the tempestuous nature of pixies for five minutes.”

Raphael’s smile didn’t reach his dark eyes. “For a mortal so favored by Fate, you certainly enjoy tempting it.”

“I’m not favored by Fate, I’m favored by you.”

“Well said.  Well spotted.”  Raphael chuckled and drained his cup before placing it aside and moving close, the fragrance of his musk burning your nostrils. His hand cupped your jaw and tilted your face up. “Not appreciated nearly enough, however. I labor long so that you may be the conduit of my brilliance.”

You couldn’t help but roll your yes, a twinge of unwelcome fondness stirring yet again within you for this curious devil. “I adore everything you create, Raphael.  Well…almost everything.”

“And what, pray tell, is the exception?”

You hesitated and pulled your head out of his grip, his long index finger trailing beneath your chin. “Well, that song about the hagspawn was pretty terrible.”

Raphael inclined his head. “Granted, it was not my best creation. Yet you did it justice, once you heeded my tender correction and stopped laughing.”

You rubbed your lower back at the unpleasant memory. “Yes…I remember your ‘correction’ quite well.”

“As always, it is my intent to make an impression.”  Raphael extended a hand which you took, preparing to be whisked back to his House of Hope. “Even amongst the most stiff-necked of my servants.”

A blast of hot air met your face as Raphael pulled your body through the familiar hellfire portal.  You didn’t mark the change, but Raphael had shed his human guise and now stood before you in full cambion form.  He stretched his arms and wings wide, clearing his throat before launching into a dramatic recitation of his newest poetic piece.

You sat in an armchair as far away from the roaring fire as possible, listening to Raphael’s deep voice paint the images of an epic tale. It was clearly another of his self-insertion stories with a protagonist modeled after how Raphael perceived himself. Which was a sight different than the reality.

Despite the blatant conceit, you couldn’t help but be drawn into the world he had created. You clapped enthusiastically at the end of his impassioned oratory.

As always, you were his biggest fan. Aside from himself of course.

Haarlep passed through the large room on the way back to the Boudoir he was often confined to.  The incubus wore a sleepy expression and the usual replication of Raphael’s image, carrying a mug of steaming liquid in hand.

“Raphael has just come up with the most exquisite tale, Haarlep!”  You said with excitement, not noticing Raphael’s glare on you soften slightly at your words.

“Believe me, cherub.  I’ve heard it all.”  Haarlep waved a dismissive hand in your direction and continued on his way.

“He doesn’t like me much.”  You said, a little put out as you always were at Haarlep’s disinterest.

“Pay him no mind.”  Raphael handed you yet another long sheaf of parchment whereon he’d scrawled more lyrics for you to memorize. “There is only one whose attentions you should crave.”

You glanced over his work and smiled, trying in vain to hide your delight at the new project. “Of course, but it does get a little confusing since you insist on him wearing your form.”

Raphael’s tail smacked your backside causing you to hiss at the sting. “Careful, little nightingale. Even my fondness for you has its limits.”

#haarlep #raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #drabble #raphael bg3

[eviesaurusrex]

ꜱᴜɴꜱʜɪɴᴇ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇꜱ | ʜ. ꜱᴛʏʟᴇꜱ

GIFs not mine!

»kinda pt. 2 to this little request but it’s not required to read this now«

summary: After getting rid of every contraception method they ever used, Harry and YN finally start trying for a baby while enjoying their time in Australia.

word count: 7.3k (whoopsie)

warnings: +18 content, MDNI (I mean it), oral sex (both receiving), p in v, fluff, sweet lovemaking, loads of praises, some dirty talk, Harry has a breeding kink, and they’re both a bit possessive (not even sorry), sweet, fluffy aftercare, mentions of anxiety and future talk, mentions of pregnancy tests and being pregnant, pov always kinda jumping between YN and Harry because I obviously can’t stick to one, not 100% proofread

author’s note: This is my first ever full-on smut piece, so be gentle with me. I’m trying my best, okay? But I just couldn’t help myself, so I had to write this. Plus, I saw the pictures and gifs of Harry during his Australian shows, and he looks so damn happy there, so that certainly was another reason to write this. I don’t use the taglist this time because of the prominent 18+ topic.

»ᴍᴅɴɪ«

***

Impatiently, YN sat on the edge of the ridiculously large king-size bed their hotel suite was practically dominated by, eyes jumping between the door to the grand bathroom, in which Harry took a well-deserved shower after another exceptional show, and the phone in her restless hands, showing their shared cycle tracker. Ever since their lengthy talk right after Christmas about their future and the family planning they might wanted to start sooner rather than later, YN had abandoned every protection method in use and had gifted Gemma the several unopened packs of condoms waiting on their bathroom shelves and in their nightstand drawers.

What could she say? Harry and her always heavily indulged in the passion as soon as it came upon them—they probably had fucked on every possible surface in their shared homes. Even the floor of the several rooms they owned wasn’t unscathed.

A grin tucked at her lips as YN thought about the many risky escapades they continuously had found themselves in after a glass of wine too many in the hours prior to them, and almost fell off the bed as the door suddenly opened without warning, letting a steamy Harry back into the bedroom. The woman, already dressed in a too-large, on-her-body-hanging t-shirt of his and ready for a cozy night in bed with some Netflix, jumped from the edge she had been perched on the entire time since her phone had alarmed her of the day right after turning off the Do not disturb mode she always used during his shows. Wide eyes looked over to an only barely dried-off man, steam evaporating behind him into the warm air of their shared suite, the balcony doors widely opened to let in the fresh breeze of a beautiful Sydney night, the salty smell of the ocean mixing with the heavy scents of his favorite shower gel and shampoo.

YN couldn’t press a single word out of her abruptly constricted throat, her vocal cords twisting at the delicious, quite unexpected sight in front of her. Her eyes jumped from his handsome as-ever face over his exposed broad chest and chiseled abs, down over his veiny arms to his sexy hands—she was a weak woman, and she adored his hands to an unhealthy extent—in one he held his phone, showing the same screen she had faced for over fifteen minutes of agonizingly building anticipation of what might come tonight.

Harry’s eyes had already settled onto her own hand, holding her own phone before jumping back up to her face, cocking one perfect eyebrow before a lazy, teasing smirk made its appearance, letting him seem even more handsome than he already was. “You should’ve joined me in that shower, love,” he stated, turning off the light behind him. He walked through the room, his feet making almost no sound on the stone floor, coming closer and closer to her already overheating body. With a dry swallow, YN softly shrugged her shoulders. “Thought you could use the downtime, y’know?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she felt her heartbeat picking up, jumping even as Harry finally stopped right in front of her, right in arms reach. He cocked his head to one sight and watched her closely, eyebrows now gently furrowed in loving worry. “We don’t have to do this tonight, darlin’. We can easily wait for next month, or the month after, or even the month after that one if you think we should wait a bit more. I’ll do whatever you’re most comfortable with, y’know that, don’t you? I would never pressure you into this, no matter how many alarms we’ve set in the past because we thought we’d be ready.” His voice had lost the teasing, almost feral undertone and only left space for the man who would always put his woman first, no matter what.

Stretching her hand out, YN took the phone out of Harry’s and threw both devices onto the armchair next to the bed where her concert outfit lay, entirely forgotten, and letting her hands cup his face tenderly. He wrapped her into his arms straight away, pulling her body flush against his, and watched the woman he loved while she watched him just as closely. She let her fingertips glide over his skin, gently caressing his cheek, his neck, before burrowing them in the short, curly hair at the nape of his neck. Instantly, she could feel something twitch against her stomach, and with a small grin, YN tucked at his hair a second time, tickling a silent groan out of him.

“I know you would bring me the stars if I ever asked for them, but tonight, I want you to ravish me. I want you to fuck me as hard and best as possible. I only want to be able to moan your name because that’s the only thing on my mind,” YN whispered, lips barely touching, and moaned as Harry pressed them together, kissing her with a moan escaping himself. She could feel his strong, long fingers wandering from the curve of her hips over her spine to wrap them around her neck, letting her soft strands glide between them before gently winding them around his fist. With already heavy breaths escaping them, Harry ended the kiss by pulling his head jerkingly back and exposed YN’s soft neck with all the tender spots he had learned to know like the back of his mind, pulling softly at her hair still wrapped around his fist and bent his head impatiently.

With a deep, satisfied moan escaping them both, the man littered the skin soft like silk with even softer kisses, nibbling at the one spot right under her chin, definitely leaving his first mark for the night on her, before moving his lips to the next spot he knew she loved. “Fuck,” YN whispered into the void of their suite as Harry bit her neck right underneath her ear, feeling how the wetness between her thighs pooled even more in her already soaked panties—just as always when Harry had his hands, and lips, on her. “Feeling good already, darlin’?” The woman felt his whispered question more than she heard it and nodded, desperation clear in that one, quick movement, her fingers tucking urgently at his strands, moving his mouth off her neck and back to her own, hungrily awaiting his lips. With the other hand, YN reached for his, still resting on her hips where his fingers pressed into the soft flesh and the fabric of one of his shirts to move it right where she needed him most.

His chuckle was deep and held the familiar sound of utter satisfaction, and it was almost embarrassing how her body reacted to that sound.

“Oh, love,” Harry mumbled into the next kiss, but YN interrupted him with her fingers gripping between his thighs, wrapping them around his hard member and giving him a few short strokes before she got way too agitated and pulled at the white towel resting lowly on his hips. She giggled at the sound of Harry’s groan as soon as she wrapped her hand around his hard cock again, a thumb teasingly nudging the leaking tip, while she could feel his own fingers moving between her thighs. He knew how to play her body like a symphony, so it wasn’t a surprise as one of his long fingers slid through her wet folds, parting them to gain better access to all the right spots before putting more and more pressure onto her aching clit and tickling whimper after whimper out of her mouth. “Yeah, I know, love. S’feels so good, doesn’t it? Already so warm and wet and ready for me, darlin’. What a fucking good girl you are for me.” She really tried to bite back on a few of her desperate-sounding moans, but Harry’s relentless finger, teasing her clit without pause, even pushed her to only hold onto his cock without moving an inch, preventing anything like that. “Nah, don’t do that, love,” he grinned and nudged YN to stare into his pretty eyes through heavy lids. “Wanna hear every single one of those sweet sounds you only make for me. You know what you’re doing to me with them, making me fucking feral for you, always. Wanna hear how good I make you feel, can you do that for me? Yeah?”

With another breathy whimper, YN nodded, head almost floating in the pleasure. Harry smiled at the short movement and kissed her deeply before moving his hands to cup her ass and lift her up as easily as a feather, carrying her to the soft mattress. He sat her back on the edge and peppered YN’s face with kisses while his hands swiftly picked up the hem of his shirt and threw the annoying piece of fabric onto the ground in his back, his eyes already wandering up and down over the body of this living artwork right in front of him. YN leaned on her elbows, breasts heaving with every labored intake of breath, thighs rubbing against each other to release the still building-up tension. Harry sank to his knees, eyes never leaving her pretty face, hands gripping her calves and spreading her legs, gaining access to where he wanted to be just as badly as she wanted him there. “Always so beautiful for me.” Words were mumbled against the skin of her left knee from which he worked himself upwards—kissing every inch of soft exposed skin until Harry was faced with the most soaked panties he had ever witnessed since their first night together in her small apartment in London, surrounded by too many candles to still be save.

YN’s scent enveloped and invaded his senses entirely, and Harry couldn't contain the deep in his chest rumbling moan slipping over his lips as he pressed featherlike kisses to the drenched fabric he adored on his woman in every shape and form possible. He could feel the flood of precum dripping over his tip and running down his thick, veiny shaft at the first taste of her. “Fucking soaked for me, darlin’. Someone is eager.” Another set of kisses followed these words, tickling whimper and moan after whimper and moan out of YN, and he couldn't wait for a second longer before he pulled down the wet fabric covering her delicious pussy he intended to devour whole.

His cock twitched at that thought.

Putting both her thighs over his broad shoulders, the singer hummed in deeply felt pleasure as the tip of his tongue started to move between her lips, slowly opening for him, inviting him, luring him in. And he was a weak man when it came to the woman in front of him, spread open and vulnerable, only for him to see her in that state.

Even after years, Harry didn’t take it for granted, and it fueled him with utter satisfaction and something more… primal.

“Fuck, you taste so good for me, darlin’. Always so fucking sweet,” he praised her with his tongue still between her opened lips, tasting her and drinking her in. He never got enough of her—not of her taste, not of the sounds she made, not of the way her body moved for him. “But it’s different today, isn’t it? Even sweeter. All ready for me and my cock, aren’t you? So eager to get fucked and filled up.” Those last words were muffled by her soaking pussy because Harry dove right into it, his need to make her feel even better too urgent, too all-consuming.

Tongue licking from the bottom of her lips up to that little, hidden pearl he may love more than YN did, or maybe not, according to the sounds she suddenly let out as his lips wrapped around it after teasing it for only a second with the tip of his eager tongue. His mouth sucked and tasted her, his tongue nudged and teased, his teeth nibbled and tortured her until the cock between his legs ached and begged for just a tiny form of release. But he wasn’t able to move, even if Harry wanted to, because YN’s thighs had wrapped around his head and held him right where he was. He wouldn’t have left until she had experienced her first of hopefully many orgasms tonight anyway. Harry was nothing but an eager pleaser for his girl, just as YN was for him, and the prospect of one of her otherworldly blowjobs with those delicious lips made him moan even louder around her pulsing clit, while two of his fingers slowly buried themselves into her leaking and twitching pussy.

“Tha’ so good, darlin’? Yeah? Letting all those people out there know who you belong to, hm? Haven’t even properly started taking care of tha’ sweet, little cunt of yours, love. Bu’ keep goin’, lovie. Keep being a good girl for me, and enjoy yourself on my fingers and tongue. Y’love tha’, don’t ya? C’mon, baby, let me hear how much y’love it.”

He could sit in front of her and talk dirty to her without even touching a single inch of her body, and YN knew she would cum on the spot. But this, this was so much better.

With a breathy moan, one of many, she pushed herself slightly back up on her arm, stretching a hand out for him, and buried her fingers into his soft locks. Her eyes were heavy from lust and the impending orgasm she already felt building up slowly, but still, she locked eyes with Harry, moaning again at the tasty sight in between her thighs.

Only mere hours earlier, he had sung for every single one of his fans, but now, he only belonged to her. It was an exhilarating thought and almost pushed her over the edge.

Wetting her lips with her tongue, YN sucked in a shaky breath as Harry sucked harder on her aching clit and made her feel every tuck of his mouth through her entire body. “Feels so good, H, so fucking good. You’re the only one w-who makes me feel this good, makes me so wet, turns me into a mess. Fucking hell.” She let her head fall back, eyes closing, and moved her hips against his mouth, increasing the pressure on her clit, pushing his perfect fingers deeper inside her. “’m only yours, H. Was ever only yours, from the first moment, from the first time you said my name. Oh god, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop. Right there, fuck.” Turning her into an incoherent mess was an easy task for him, YN knew that, and still, it always amazed her. She looked back down at him while moan after moan left her mouth, couldn’t rip her eyes off him, not even when he started to suck harder on her clit. He between her legs, eating her out, was nothing more than a piece of art. “Cum for me, love. C’mon, make me proud and cum for me,” Harry whispered between sucking and thrusting his fingers deeper and faster into her tight pussy, angling them just right to hit that spot over and over again. YN didn’t know where upside and down were as the orgasm that had built up ever since Harry had started his delicious torture finally snapped like a rubber band inside of her and turned her into a moaning mess while her ears still picked up on the words he spoke between softer licks and kisses and in between moaning his name for the world to hear. “That’s it, good girl. C’mon, just a bit more. Yeah, that’s it. Bloody hell, y’did so well for me. My perfect girl.”

After a few moments, YN could feel how her legs got softly opened, unwrapped by his loving hands, and felt the mattress dip right beside her as Harry climbed into bed, pressing his body right against hers as she still came down from the otherworldly bliss. Kisses were pressed against her shoulder and onto her face, fingers gently caressing over slightly damp skin, letting goosebumps return once more. Blinking, the blissed-out woman looked up at the man next to her and returned the smile with the same intensity. “Back with me, darlin’?” A nod followed the question before YN rolled on Harry and kissed him, letting her tongue glide over his full bottom lip while she felt his rock-hard cock pressed against her thigh, desperate for some attention. “’m not the only eager one, am I?” She grinned, and Harry chuckled but gasped for air as her fingertips slowly glided from the base of his shaft to the wet tip of his cock, feeling it twitch against her skin. YN kissed him once more and wrapped her hand around him, only barely able to reach around with her fingers, and hummed, satisfied, at the deep moan Harry let out into the kiss. “Wanna make you feel good, baby,” she whispered between soft pecks of their lips, nearly whimpering at the thought of pleasing him. “Wanna make you feel so fucking good. Is that okay?”

One of his hands nestled into the curve of her neck to press a hard kiss to her lips, swallowing the moan escaping him again. “Please, fuck, yes, whatever you want, love.” Another small grin stretched over YN’s face, covering his chin and neck in tender kisses before moving lower and lower, working her way over the expanse of his chest, tucking at one of his nipples with her teeth and giggled as Harry arched his back a bit. She felt his hand clench and unclench, still resting on her neck, his thumb softly stroking over her skin. “You’re so pretty, love,” YN mumbled against the skin of his stomach, following the mountains and valleys of his abs with the tip of her tongue, alternating between licks and kisses. “You’re the most handsome and loving man this earth has ever seen, and I’m the lucky one to call you mine,” she continued, kissing his left hipbone before moving to the right, but leaving out the angry red tip of his cock stretching its way towards her. “I’m the luckiest woman on this planet, y’know tha’? Only because you chose me over all the others. Never gonna take that for granted, my love. I’ll cherish you forever and ever.”

Gently, she bit into the skin of his pelvis but couldn’t move further because suddenly, Harry pulled her up as he sat up, legs spread deliciously wide, and kissed her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth and conquering every part of it. Fingers clung to one another, burrowing and holding, caressing and gripping. “Bloody hell, I love you so much,” Harry breathlessly whispered, making YN smile softly. “Just as much as I love you,” she returned with another tender kiss. “Can I continue now, though? I finally wanna taste you. Wanted tha’ since I saw you in the dressing room in those tight jeans. You have such a pretty ass, baby. Wanted to bite it and push my hand in the back pocket, so everyone could’ve seen that I’m the only one allowed to touch you like that.” YN meant every single word, not only because Harry always looked like the tastiest snack on earth but also because she expressed her love primarily through acts of physical affection. Gladly, Harry was just the same.

“‘Been checking me out, baby?” Harry grinned, but the grin soon disappeared as his mouth parted in utter bliss. Her hand got a tighter grip around his cock, his skin burning against hers, and while she felt that one thick vein pulsing heavily against her palm, YN moved back to one of her favorite spots—right between his legs, her eyes never leaving his.

She held his gaze captive like a goddess at her first arrival on earth, captivating every living creature. Her eyes alone made him moan softly, his hand wandering back to her, cupping her cheek. Harry didn’t even let his head fall back into his neck as her lips touched his aching cock, even though he felt the urge to revel in that feeling—but watching YN was much better and almost made him cum on the spot.

He watched how her lips pressed open-mouthed kisses from his heavy balls over the entirety of the underside of his shaft, feeling her tongue play with the prominent vein running alongside it, observing her tongue as it got more and more visible the closer she got to his leaking tip. Harry couldn’t contain a single moan leaving his mouth, his thumb started to caress the skin over her cheekbone lovingly, his lips parted and his breath hitching in his throat at the moment of her kitten-licking the underside of his sensitive mushroom tip. Groaning, Harry let his head hang down and took a deep breath in but kept watching YN, entirely mesmerized by the view in front of him. She started gently sucking on him, and he moaned just as much as she did as he felt the vibration of her sounds echoing through his cock and his entire body, teasing and working him up even more. His hips jerked upwards, and Harry felt as if he would lose his mind with more of his cock covered by her warm mouth and the pressure of her perfect lips wrapped around his member, pushing him to whimper quietly.

“YNN…,” he couldn’t stop from moaning her name in that desperate tone. Instantly, he felt her sucking stop and opened his closed eyes, looking down at her again, locking gazes with her. Harry let the pad of his thumb stroke over her cheek and chin again. “Don’t tease me, don’t stop, don’t torture me. Barely can stop myself from jus’ taking you, l-love.” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before YN started sucking again, harder and deeper this time, swallowing almost every inch of his impressive length, her stroking hand taking care of the few inches she couldn’t quite fit. But it didn’t matter because Harry reveled in the warm and wet, literally perfect feeling of her sucking mouth, the alternating pressure of her lips when she moved up and down his thick, demanding cock, the swirl of her perfect little tongue around his messy head, leaking precum all over it. Her moans gave him the rest every time she tasted the salty drops trickling out of his slit to which she tended special care, always letting her tongue kitten-lick it, letting her lips close around it to suck the living daylights out of him. Harry was a moaning mess underneath her magic mouth, thrusting his pelvis up into her mouth and apologizing with deep, rumbling but breathy whispers when he made her gag around his cock by mere impatience and thoughtlessness.

Only a few more of her sucks was he able to endure before Harry pushed his hand into her neck anew and roughly pulled her with a deep “Bloody hell, woman” up, straight to his lips. They crashed against each other, and Harry was fast to grab her soft hips with both hands, pulling her closer to him and only stopped when he finally felt her peaking nipples pressed against his chest and her dripping pussy hovering over his cock, already teasing the tip with those perfect wet lips, hugging him.

“You want that, love? You wanna get filled up by me? Filled up by my cock and my thick cum? Wanna get all full and round with my babies, pretty girl? Wanna finally make me a daddy?” His voice sent shivers down her spine, deep and husky with all the lust and feral need he felt, and embarrassingly, YN felt how her pussy dripped down onto his mushroom tip, soaking him with her own need. All she could do was nod quickly and jerkingly, already losing the ability to move her body. But Harry couldn’t leave it at that. YN felt how he gently took her chin between his fingers and forced her to look at him, moving their foreheads apart. “C’mon, love. I know you can be my good girl.” She felt how a soft whimper left her lips and wanted to hide her face at his neck for being so needy and whiny, but instead, she cupped Harry’s face with both hands and moved her hips slowly to tease his cock right underneath her. “Need you to fill me up. Need you to fuck me full of your cum, so I can carry your pretty babies, Harry. Want to make you a dad, wan’to have all your babies, fuck, want to spend the rest of my life with you, love.” YN felt as if she needed to cry in a few seconds with all the emotions bubbling up inside her, but Harry pulled her flush against his chest again, forcing their lips to crash against each other, and entered with one quick thrust into her, stretching her so good and deliciously that she didn’t want to hold back the screaming moan.

The opened windows weren’t on their mind any longer.

His moan in her ears was better than every song he could ever write for her. How he let his head fall backward with closed eyes and parted lips was more beautiful than any sculpture of the old masters combined.

She couldn’t get enough of him and the noises he made because of her, so she started to move on top of him, both arms tightly wrapped around his shoulders and neck now, letting her hips circle his cock, stretching herself further and further with every deeper hitting thrust. Harry’s hands wandered over her body and grabbed her hips again, supporting her thrusting movements, pulling her even further down until he was buried with every inch inside her warm, him tightly gripping pussy. “Tha’s it, love. Fuck, you feel incredible. Gosh, so fucking good. So tight and warm around me. Didn’t want me to leave that tight cunt again, don’t you? Holding onto me like a damn vice, bloody fucking hell.”

With that, Harry switched their position as easily as getting up from a chair, pressing YN down into the mattress, and wrapping her legs around his waist again. Her hands rested on his abs while he started to fuck into her—every thrust grew bolder and harder before he slowed down again to let his hips circle and his pelvis rub against her clit, letting YN arch her back against his body. “I love you, love you so much, H. More than anything,” she almost sobbed through the fog of pleasure, hands gliding over his chest and clasped them behind his neck, her fingers tangling into his soft locks and pulling him down to her, kissing him with every ounce of love she held for him. “I know, darlin’. God, you’re the best thing in my life, y’know tha’, right? The best fucking thing. Making my days always so bright and joyful, letting me feel like floating on a freaking cloud, baby. Can’t wait to call you my wife, the mother of my children. Oh god, you’re everything.” YN moaned at his lips as he stilled, deep inside her, feeling his cock twitch once, twice, before he moved again, so much slower this time.

His hand on her neck and his thumb caressing her jawline made her open her eyes again, moaning and whimpering softly as he hit that spot perfectly, over and over again. And with that came another building-up orgasm, making her clench around his throbbing, thrusting cock, pushing her to wrap her legs tighter around his hips, her fingers burying themselves deeper into Harry’s soft strands, tucking gently at them and making him choke on another moan. He grunted above her, eyes never leaving hers or her face, always staring down at her, taking her in. With every kiss, they drank each other in before Harry turned his attention to her breasts, still fucking her slowly into the mattress, his lips gently wrapped around her right nipple and started to suck and softly bite on it. “They’ll be so full, m’love,” Harry whisper-moaned between kisses. “So full after I’ve cum deep inside and bred you, lovie. Can’t fucking wait for it.”

With every word leaving his mouth, every syllable whispered against her skin, YN grew wetter and wetter, arching in his direction, pressing her hips into his, following his thrusts. “I’ll keep you pregnant, darlin’ because I already know I’ll love every second of it. Will worship you even more than I already do, praising the ground you’re walking on, never letting you out of my sight because I’ll be fucking obsessed with you. You’ve already bewitched me, love, how is this even possible, fuck.” YN had to giggle between a whimper and a moan, making Harry chuckle against her right breast as well before he came back up and kissed her longingly, nudging her lips apart with his eager tongue, teasing hers, moaned into her mouth as he buried his cock as deeply as possible in her clenching and twitching pussy.

A hand wandered from her neck over her breasts, down over her stomach, and right between them. Fingers started teasing, gently circling her clit, and letting YN throw her head back into the pillows, gasping for air as the impending orgasm came closer and closer. “I want you to cum for me again, darlin’. Want you to cum for me so I can fill your tight little cunt up with my thick cum. Let me breed you, love. Let me make you a pretty mommy. C’mon, lovie, c‘mon. I know you want it. Y’want it just as badly as I do.” Harry didn’t let go of her and continued to fuck into her, never letting go of her clit, always teasing more out of it. “Oh, shit,” YN whimpered, one hand gripping the pillow next to her while she pressed the other onto her mouth, screwed her eyes shut, and let her head fall back once more. It only lasted for a few seconds because she needed to see him, needed to see his face when he’d finally released inside her, realizing that they might have made a baby together.

“Please, Harry. Fuck. Please,” she whimpered against his lips after he had bent down to her again and pressed loving kisses to them, begging him for everything she wanted. “Use your… fuck… use your words, baby,” he moaned above her, steadying himself with a hand right next to her face, using the perfect angle to hit as deeply as physically possible. “Please—oh god—cum inside me, Harry. Need you to cum inside me and fill me with your cum, need t-to carry your babies. ‘s all I ever wanted.” YN could feel how his thrusts became harder and more uncoordinated with every passing moment after her whimpered pleads, how his finger moved a bit harder and faster on her slightly overworked clit, pushing her to feel the orgasm rolling towards her like a breaking wave. “Good girl. My good, pretty girl,” Harry breathlessly mumbled against the corner of her mouth, their foreheads touching and their eyes locked into one another. “Need you to cum for me, darlin’. I can barely hold it any longer. Wanna cum deep inside you, but I need you to cum first, okay, love?”

Only mere heartbeats later, YN felt her second orgasm approaching and screamed his name for everyone to hear, begging him to keep going, to stop, to get her pregnant, she wasn’t sure. She only remembered the expression on his face as her cunt clenched around him, gripped onto his twitching cock, and as he filled her with a deep, almost feral-sounding moan and kissed her like a man possessed.

***

“There you go, love.” Harry’s voice and tender touches pulled YN back out of her trance after orgasm number five. He knelt between her legs, a warm, wet washcloth in hand, and gently cleaned the remnants of their third—and last—round off her thighs. He pressed a kiss to her knee after he had made sure that nothing sticky was left but got a hold of her left hand where he had put his ring. “I know you’re probably worn out”—YN raised a brow at that and tickled a soft laugh out of him—“but I think it would be better if you’d come with me to the bathroom. Just a quick wash under the shower, nothing long, maybe a quick go to the loo. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?”

Sighing, YN let Harry pull her up to her feet with both hands and leaned tiredly into his still-naked side. “Bu’ only because you’re pretty and because I love you,” she mumbled and closed her eyes at the feeling of one of his forehead kisses she always craved. “Sure thing, darlin’. Thank you.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he led her into the bathroom and prepared the shower while she indeed used the toilet before joining him under the refreshing stream of water. With Harry in her back, YN felt his hands sneaking around her body and resting them on her lower stomach, a thumb gently caressing the wet skin there. With a soft smile, she covered them with her own before intertwining their fingers, and she accepted the many kisses pressed onto her shoulder, up her neck, and to her cheek. “‘Think we made a baby today?” Even though he tried to ask it casually, as if it wasn’t something he craved and wanted somewhere deep in his heart, YN knew him better and heard the anxiety creeping up in his voice.

Turning around in his arms, she cupped his face and gently shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t know, love. Maybe. Maybe no’. It won't be the end of the world if I get my period next month. Would I be disappointed? Hell, definitely. Bu’ that’s part of the process. You know how long Emma and Jean had to try for a baby.” It still pained her to think about the long and painful journey of one of her best friends. And Harry knew that, so he only nodded and kissed YN’s forehead again. “We will get there, eventually. Someday, my period will be late, and we will take a test, and it will be positive. We just have to wait and be patient and leave that nasty bitch duo named anxiety and stress out in the rain. Okay?” Again, Harry nodded at that, a deep sigh leaving his body and his tense shoulders slowly relaxing. “Okay,” he whispered in agreement and kissed his woman tenderly, which soon turned into an unexpected new last round under the warm water of the shower.

***

Nervousness crept up on her as she continued to stare at the several at-home pregnancy tests she had made in the last three hours. It had been a struggle throughout because the instructions had been all in Japanese, and she most definitely didn’t speak that language. Even Google translator had been a constant pain in the ass, leaving her metaphorically standing in the rain. At least Jeff had been so kind and had helped her find someone in the team who could speak Japanese and who swore an oath to keep silent until YN could be sure about it.

“It’s too good to be true.”

That’s the sentence she mumbled to herself ever since realizing that her period had been late—incredibly so. And that’s usually not her thing, so the hope of a fucking miracle had spread its roots inside her and didn’t let go. In order to be alone, she even lied to Harry to get some uninterrupted hours to herself while he performed another wonderful show and was adored by all his fans. She knew it was stupid to lie to him instead of just coming clean about her suspicion, but… she just couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to get his hopes up, only to see them crushed when the tests all came back negative. It was enough that her hopes would get destroyed in a matter of seconds.

The alarm of the timer on her phone scared her almost to death, and after taking a deep breath to steady her shaking hands, YN stretched them out towards the lid of the toilet in front of which she sat crossed-leg. She hadn’t moved since she had started taking them one after the other, and not a single one was turned over.

“You bloody headless chicken. Do it.”

And with that last bit of self-esteem she somehow owned, YN started to turn them all over, one after the other, without taking a closer look at the several displays. Only after another deep breath, to keep the nauseous feeling in check, did she glance from one test to the other, remembering what one of the assistant stylists had told her about the different result displays.

In the first few seconds, shock settled in her body, freezing her on that stupid spot on the bathroom floor. Her heartbeat picked up, and she heard every single beat in her ears, the blood rushing through her veins. Instinctively, a hand had made its way to her stomach, covered by one of Harry’s Pleasing hoodies he had worn during their shared breakfast and which smelled like him. It had kept her sane and safe and comforted in the past hours, filled with anxiety and stupid hopes.

The sound of an opening door brought life back into YN, and with a scream, she jumped up, grabbed a handful of tests, and hurried over into the suite. Harry was already on his way towards the bathroom after he had heard the sound, worry on his face, and they almost collided in the middle of the room, his hands the only thing that kept her from tumbling to the ground.

“What’s wrong, love? You still feeling sick? Has it gotten worse? I should’ve taken you to the doctor’s this morning already instead of listening to you and keeping you alone here, fuck—“ But he stopped himself as YN held up several white-pinkish and white-bluish sticks, seeing her teary eyes, taking in her flushed cheeks. So, he scanned them but didn’t understand a single word written on them, furrowing his brows. His head only slowly caught up to it, and with a whispered, unbelieving No, he cupped her cheeks with both hands, staring into her wide eyes with a similar expression.

“Is this real? Is this really happening? Does it mean what I think it does?” He got several nods as answers, and still, he couldn’t believe this luck, this bliss.

He had been anxious all day long, first because YN had told him she didn’t feel quite well and would sit out tonight’s show and then because he had taken a glance into the cycle tracker, realizing that she hadn’t had entered her first day of period almost a week ago. Of course, he had gotten his hopes up, especially after Jeff had been weird all night long, and now, his hopes wouldn’t be crushed? It took a while to get this knowledge into his brain, a bit too long for YN’s liking, because she started fidgeting on the spot.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t how you thought it would be, and maybe you now think it’s way too early and that we should’ve waited, or that I should have made a big announcement thing out of it or—“

YN didn’t end her anxious rambling because Harry gripped her waist and lifted her off the ground, pressing her against him. Out of surprise, she let the pregnancy tests tumble down onto the hotel room floor and wrapped both arms around his neck, feeling how the happy tears slowly trickled down her cheeks. Harry grinned widely, tears of his own in his eyes, and spun them around, laughing and crying, breathless from excitement and utter joy. “We’re gonna be parents!” He shouted it through the suite, the people walking past the door probably hearing every single word, and YN couldn’t contain the laugh bubbling out of her any longer.

Cradling her face in both his hands after he had put her back down, Harry stared into her eyes with astonishment and mild wonder. “We will really be parents,” he whispered and covered her face in kisses. “Thank you. Thank you so much. You’re incredible, my love. I love you so much,” he continued and made YN cry even more—from happiness and joy. “It’s only possible because of you, H. Because you chose me and decided to spend the rest of your life with me and make me the bloody happiest woman on earth.” With a smile, she wiped off the tears off her cheeks, and Harry erased the remnants with his tenderly stroking thumb. “We will raise wonderful children because they’ll have you as their dad, H, and I can’t wait for it.” He smiled down at her and pecked the tip of her nose. “Don’t forget yourself, darlin’. You’re this incredibly strong woman, always fighting for what’s right. Our children won’t have anything to fear.” Softly, he nudged her chin lovingly and kissed her smiling lips before suddenly dropping down to his knees and getting a hold of YN’s hips.

She watched him intently, one hand covering one of his on her hip and the other slowly and tenderly running through his silky locks. But then, her hand stilled in its tracks as Harry bent forward to press slow kisses all over her lower abdomen and took his time with it. “Hey there, little baby,” he mumbled against the fabric of the hoodie, continuing to kiss YN’s stomach. “It’s your dad, but you can call me whatever you want. Your mom and I are incredibly thankful that you’re with us now, and we’ll love you to the moon and back. Just… please, be gentle to your mommy, can you promise me tha’? She’s this wonderful and strong woman, and I know that she’ll handle anything like a champ, but I don’t want her to suffer too much. Can we agree on tha’, sunshine? Yeah? Perfect. Love you so much.” That little monologue was followed by another kiss, leaving YN speechless and stunned, and she only could let the tears spill out of her eyes, watching him as Harry stood up again. “You’re too good for this world, H,” she whispered between two sobs and let him envelop her with his body, feeling its warmth seeping into her, calming her. “Nah. ‘m just that dude who is entirely whipped for his soon-to-be wife who just gifted him the best present of a lifetime,” he grinned down at her and let her wrap both arms tightly around his waist. “Gosh, don’t remind me of the hassle of finding you good enough birthday gifts now.”

A chuckle left them both before YN looked up at Harry as he hummed. “Wanna take a bath together? I could use some time with that gorgeous woman who’s obviously stupid enough to marry me.” Giggling, the woman nodded. “The stupid woman would love that, but we have to tidy up some… stuff first.” Following Harry with slower steps, YN watched him as he took in the chaos still dominating the bathroom floor, with several ripped-open test boxes and instructions lying all over the place. He turned and cocked a brow in question. “How many of these did you do, woman?” Shrugging, YN stepped closer and picked up the first few boxes to throw them away. “About seventeen? I’m not sure anymore because I think I wasn’t entirely there. With my head, I mean. I may have spiraled a bit while I sat here and drank one bottle of water after the other.” She heard him laugh softly under his breath before getting a hold of the paper and cardboard in her hand and dumping them back onto the floor. “Silly woman.” Kissing her, he turned the faucet of the bathtub open and started to pull the hoodie over YN’s head. “Forget about these. I’ll do that later. Now, I want to have a nice bath with my baby momma.”

***

The end sucks (probably like the entire rest), but here it is! I hope y’all liked it at least a bit, and as usual: Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x female!reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x pregnant!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #dad!harry #dad!harry styles #dadrry

[sordidmusings]

Fixing What Ifs (Mihawk x F!Reader)

A/N: For this ancient request (told you they are not forgotten just severely neglected 💀). I really hope I captured the type of scene you were looking for! Debating on writing a follow up smut because sex as the culmination of pining?? That's that good good right there that is. Bless up to @fanaticsnail for cheering me while writing this, would've very much struggled without you love bug 🤍🤍🤍

Listening to: Prove Your Love - Fleetwood Mac, Go Slowly - Radiohead, Love Song - Lesley Duncan

Word Count: ~4.5k

Warnings: Fem!reader, a gratuitous amount of mutual pining, kind of bantering?, Mihawk leans opla in that he has such sass, a few flashback scenes, Mihawk is a Man who does not know how to deal with being in love, but he’s trying like a lot, I mean he even kisses your wrist, probably idiots in love, there's one brief allusion to Buggy cuz I Need Him

Snippet:

“You say that as if we’re too old to have options.” He spoke quite steadily, but you noticed his golden eyes flicking to you, ravenously seeking your reaction. You knew he was trying to cover at least a little; your equal skills in observation were a beauty and a bane to him. It was your favorite source of bickering, giving you many lines to smile at when you were stuck in lonely nights tracking targets.

“You are in your forties,” you teased. Again, you took a sip to think. You meant to find some words to match his characteristic tone (“Joints still working well enough to properly share a bed?”), but instead what came out was “though you’ve aged better than I imagined in our twenties”. You blamed that you had finally looked over and taken in his face, sculpted angles all alive and aglow in the torch-light. There was also that defined chest that he maddeningly always insisted on showing everyone. You probably would too, looking like that.

“You should know by now I always exceed expectation,” Mihawk said without a hint of gloating, just simply stating an absolute fact.

“There’s still many places I’ve yet to see that proven,” you responded, words coy and teasing but smile easy and affectionate. Mihawk would need much more intimacy before he admitted how that smile stalled his thoughts. You would need much more boldness before you let him know you noticed when you managed to halt his breath.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“I’ve chosen another I want you to try. Push your glass this way,” Mihawk prompted gently. Years of knowing him let you pick up the hints of eagerness hidden under his usual drawl.

You watched Mihawk’s hands and forearms work as he opened another bottle to share. He had foregone his coat tonight, instead draping himself with a well-cut white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows and buttons undone to below his sternum, of course. Toned muscle danced under his skin with every twist and turn, leading you to great distraction throughout the process of him serving you. After enjoying the sculpt of his large hand while it gripped the full bottle to pour your glass, you changed your attention to the luxurious material of his shirt, fluttering over his chest and playing against tanned skin and his heavy gold cross. You wished you could find an excuse to pull at that hem, testing the softness of the material and making it reveal more for you.

The dark green bottle thumping back down on the bartop brought your attention away from your companion and back to your refreshed drink. You did feel a bit guilty that Mihawk’s description of the new wine was going near completely ignored (you at least caught the words “barrel-aged”, flattered he remembered your offhand comment about that preference from months ago). You just couldn’t get yourself to pay attention; your mind was swimming through multiple years at once any time it wasn’t grounded by his visage. Wistfulness had a stranglehold on you tonight, keeping you locked between painful yearning and bittersweet nostalgia. The comfort of hearing his smooth voice accompanied by the quietly unfolding lives of every stranger in the bar did reach you, however. You took solace in that while you went for your first sip.

“You’re much quieter than usual,” Mihawk prodded with dry displeasure. That displeasure was interrupted when he got to enjoy your usual show of flicking your tongue out to lick your glass and then your lips upon the first taste.

You took another, much longer sip of your drink to delay the need to respond. It was an easy choice of diversion; the wine was exquisite as always. You’d tell him as much if you were more in the mood for the gloating, simpering glow he’d get from earning a stroke to his ego from you.

“I thought you’d like that,” you offered quietly. You swept a fingertip around the slick rim of your glass, mindless in your feeling and seeing and doing. This absent state let Mihawk watch for every detail of the action to better imagine how that trailing fingertip would feel against his skin. 

“Clearly you’re not as observant as you think,” he dug back, this time with much more amusement warming his voice, yet not quite enough to completely melt the snideness out.

Despite yourself, you smiled. Years of rivalry softened you to affection. Over those years of pushing yourselves and each other, bitterness became respect, respect became comradery, and comradery became admiration. In you, that admiration had long bloomed into devotion, petals bursting open in a stalwart stand against his consistent frigid air. Some days they withered, but then he would reach to you, hearten you, or defend you in a way that would have new buds growing more and more numerous until you had a field that could withstand winter's chill, turning to ice sculptures in each frost instead of decaying pulp.

“I blame your wines,” you chuckled, still taking yet another sip despite the accusation. “They have me stuck reminiscing.”

“I’d advise against that; it’s a trying endeavor. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Mihawk teased, doing a great job of masking his fondness with wry wit. He did venture to expose his curiosity, however. “Where and when does your mind have you trapped?”

“Our first meeting.”

Mihawk barely managed to keep from choking on his wine. He didn’t want to tip you off on how much that memory affected him. And it would be a shame to waste such an expensive drink.

“Why would you be thinking of that ridiculous affair?” There goes the effort at keeping you in the dark.

“What?” you asked with mock shock. “The only thing that was ridiculous was how little you trusted the top marksman to do her job.”

“You didn’t exactly scream competency,” Mihawk defended, hiding his fluster behind rudeness and the rim of his glass. The dim lighting of the bar would have hid it for him anyway; the few torch chandeliers did wonders for turning him to a living Baroque painting, but they were known for their shadows more than their breadth of hues. 

“That is one thing you always did have on me,” you relented easily, more set on imagining the immaculately groomed and glaring warlord who first saw you than needing to keep a score with his modern counterpart at your side.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

“They asked for me for a reason, you’re more useful elsewhere.”

“I’m useful everywhere you’ll find,” he dismissed easily, as sure of that fact as in the rising of the sun each day. You were a hard one to shake, but the way his namesake hawk’s eyes cut through you had you feeling exposed and vulnerable. It had you needing to make him just as small as the little pieces his endlessly picking gaze had shredded you into. 

“Then go be useful as something other than my shadow. Some of us are actually working.” Even in your exasperation fueled anger, you sounded more like you were asking than telling. The ease with which he commanded was yet another skill you’d spotted on him so quickly in these few days together that had you feeling out of your league. You were beginning to think he took great joy in your mounting discomfort with the way he hovered around, always looking for another soft spot to peck at.

“You’ve been laying at this spot for days, Viper, with nothing to show for it,” Mihawk said, phrasing the truth quite unfairly. Viper was the code-name gifted to you in your work; the snakes could sit still as the dead for weeks, waiting for the one moment that prey finally crossed their path. That same dedication was what he was attempting to disturb now. “I could have rooted the rats out within the hour of mission's start.”

“Then it’s a good thing this task is mine and not yours,” you spat back, finally finding the will to sound truly mean. There was much you were uncertain of but your methods were a strong sense of pride and no one got to question them. “I’m sure the trafficking victims would do really well avoiding harm in the slaughter you’d start. They are known for being battle-ready after all; I’m sure they’re just playing victim right now so they can partake in a song-worthy escape and claim their glory.”

“You think I have no skill to guard and fight at the same time?”

“I think it’s not worth the risk to innocents just to feed one man’s insatiable ego,” you grumbled, spreading yourself out on your familiar and beloved blanket to begin this day’s long watch. You lined one eye with the one-of-a-kind scope of your rifle, taking comfort in settling into your power. “Better to wait until they show themselves and pick them off from miles away, letting them panic at the suddenness of death from a foe they’ll never see.”

Your memory never granted you Mihawk’s perspective on your first job together. You never figured out that he was hovering not from hatred of your perceived incompetence but an uncontrollable need to have you in his sight. He’d never had to contend with such an impulse before and found himself completely at the mercy of its whims. Garp was not happy with the freshly titled Warlord; he was meant to be helping eradicate the rebel legion that had taken this island over to ravage it for resources (humans included), not keep checking out their prized sniper like he’s a fifteen year old with his first female fixation.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Surely I can be of much more entertainment to you in the present than in whatever foggy memories you have,” Mihawk said, successfully bringing you back to him.

“Yes you can,” you admitted with too much authenticity and affection for your tastes to just leave that flavor in the ari. After a moment of thought, you softly bumped your shoulder with his and added, “You’re practically a whole circus over there, how ever could I look away?”

You didn’t expect the long and tired sigh to deflate the man next to you, leaving his upper body draped on the bar. The sound seemed to have come from so deep in his lungs that it was born from his very soul.

“Please keep all talk of circuses and especially clowns to a minimum,” Mihawk pleaded into his forearms. He lifted head to look at you with one of the grouchiest and most sour faces you’d seen on him in a long time, before plopping it back into his arms. The whole thing was only made more endearing with the way the bar had pushed his hat askew.

“What’s with that look?” you laughed. “You usually save that one for Shanks.”

“I wish it was Shanks,” he grumbled petulantly. Your laughter always brightened him back up and he longed to turn and see the beauty of it on your face, but instead chose to keep to his brooding to prolong the sound just that much more.

 If it wouldn’t send him up the wall, you would have told him how much you adored when his brooding turned pouty. It sapped him of his persistent decorum and made him feel closer - more touchable. The slouch it brought out in him always had you valiantly fighting the urge to wrap his curved chest in a firm hug. It was unfair how perfectly suited for one he looked, resting his elbows on the bar and opening him and his luxury shirt and his warm skin up for your reaching hands and arms. You shook your head after a mourning sigh and took another sip of heady wine.

“I wish it was Shanks too. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him.” The soft spot you always showed for the Red Haired Pirates only threatened to drag Mihawk’s mood low again. It was amended slightly by your cute, happy gasp before you said, “We should go visit them soon! I’ve got a bigger chunk of free time after the next two months.”

Mihawk was always amazed by how easily tiny little gestures from you perked him back up and got his heart leaping. All you did was choose to say “we”. He wished and wished that it was always “we”, but he’d take what he could get. Even if it meant dealing with the usual treatment whenever you were both with Shanks and his crew.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

Mihawk was not fond of the look Shanks was sending his way. It was all too smarmy, built on equal parts smugness and giddiness. Disgusting.

“You dog! When I tried to imagine what could have the unshakable Dracule Mihawk off his game I never would’ve guessed it was our dear Viper,” Shanks teased cheerily, bumping his shoulder into the rigid one of the swordsman next to him. Mihawk was affronted - he nearly spilled his drink from Shanks’ boorish behavior.

“Didn’t know she was yours,” Mihawk grumbled, attempting to sidestep Shanks’ prompts to have him speak his infatuation aloud.

Shanks was fighting poorly to hold in his laughter; Mihawk was absolutely sulking while he watched Yasopp teach you more gun spinning tricks. You and the sharpshooter were always all joy and play, easily finding common ground in marksmanship but with the added fun of showing your separate specializations to each other. Each bout of laughter from your direction brought another brooding line to Mihawk’s furrowed brow. This standoffish air was his habitual defense against the raw ache he’d been tending to since the two of you met.

Every time I try to play, I end up wounding her, he lamented. Why can I not earn your laughter?

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

Mihawk lightly shook himself of the memory. On instinct, he turned to look at you and found you already looking at him but not really seeing him. He quietly huffed through his nose at losing you again to your own mind. He decided to give you a moment before getting to the bottom of whatever it was that had you in your funk. Beyond selfishly wanting your rapt attention, he was worried for you. You were prone to take pause and think long, especially when in quiet company, but you seemed truly lost in your own mind, taken against your will.

Mihawk’s accurate read on you was more proof of the years tentatively building rapport with each other. That intimacy you shared, which lacked the intimacy you so craved, was what had you held hostage in one of the many examples of your entwining lives.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

The quiet in the air was broken only by Mihawk’s calm breathing, his occasional quiet sips of today’s wine, and the gentle rustle of a turning page. Your own breathing was silent, having gone so long and smooth it was imperceptible due to an instinct trained in so no need of your body could get in the way of your shot. Luckily, your targets were always at such a great distance that Mihawk’s casual lounging would never alert them that they were being hunted.

“It’s been twelve hours since you’ve eaten,” Mihawk told you in a bored tone, eyes never leaving the pages of his book. You made to ignore him and continue your work, but he had never been able to stand your attention off of him for long. “Almost three since you’ve taken a sip of water.”

“Sorry, Mom, I’m a bit busy at the moment,” you mumbled back evenly. You had long lost the majority of your bitterness toward his nitpicking, instead just glad he was around and saying anything to you.

“If I was your mother, I would’ve commanded you to just let me take the target out in the first place so we could leave this boring island,” Mihawk complained.

“You really gonna take a swing at them from two miles off?” you asked, smiling as you imagined the chaos wrought from such an action. It would be a catastrophe, but it would also give you quite the show. Over your time knowing him, you’d seen Mihawk’s innate beauty and untouchable prowess countless times, but it was never enough to sate you.

“You’re not the only one who can hit a target from that distance,” Mihawk reminded you and you hoped you weren't imagining the tone of a smirk shaping his voice.

“Yeah, but I’m the only one of us who won’t cause a tsunami in the process,” you giggled at him. 

Again, your diligence robbed you of the chance to see the poignant longing overtaking Mihawk’s face when he smiled at you. He relished every step he’d gotten closer to being the source of your joy.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

“You’ve disappeared again,” Mihawk complained after sending a haughty tut your way.

You offered an apologetic smile and were happy that he accepted it readily. All those memories, years of feeling, and liquid courage built a full storm inside of you until you knew you needed to allow yourself some time in the eye of it. Being surrounded by the roaring weather would be nerve-wracking but you hoped the calm at the center helped protect you from those shredding winds. You blew a heavy sigh over your drink, refusing to look from its dark, blooded tint when you asked, “Have you ever wondered what it would’ve been like if we were together?”

He didn’t answer right away. Usually Mihawk was a man who was quick with his words, as sure in speed and precision with their strike as he was with that of his sword. You respected that sureness and bold weaponizing of his thoughts, but you deeply appreciated that, with you, he would take the time to truly parse his words when he felt the need. It suited your nature better; your patience was as legendary as your ability to shoot the wings from a fly that was miles off from the end of your rifle. 

“You say that as if we’re too old to have options.” He spoke quite steadily, but you noticed his golden eyes flicking to you, ravenously seeking your reaction. You knew he was trying to cover at least a little; your equal skills in observation were a beauty and a bane to him. It was your favorite source of bickering, giving you many lines to smile at when you were stuck in lonely nights tracking targets.

“You are in your forties,” you teased. Again, you took a sip to think. You meant to find some words to match his characteristic tone (“Joints still working well enough to properly share a bed?”), but instead what came out was “though you’ve aged better than I imagined in our twenties”. You blamed that you had finally looked over and taken in his face, sculpted angles all alive and aglow in the torch-light. There was also that defined chest that he maddeningly always insisted on showing everyone. You probably would too, looking like that.

“You should know by now I always exceed expectation,” Mihawk said without a hint of gloating, just simply stating an absolute fact.

“There’s still many places I’ve yet to see that proven,” you responded, words coy and teasing but smile easy and affectionate. Mihawk would need much more intimacy before he admitted how that smile stalled his thoughts. You would need much more boldness before you let him know you noticed when you managed to halt his breath.

“Mihawk, my dearest adversary and cherished… friend,” you hesitated on the word, never having claimed him as such to his face before. He rewarded your bravery with a gentle bump of his knee against yours and with the bare fondness that began softening his stare. “We have been playing this game, dancing this dance, for decades now. Am I really meant to believe that one question changes everything?”

“The right question can,” he asserted immediately. He opened his mouth to continue, but for once you were the one striking quick with your words.

“You are a man who does not hesitate,” you accused, staring cuttingly into his focused gaze, not backing down at the way it became shielded. “If you want something you take it.”

“And?” Mihawk prompted, tone the most biting it's been all night.

“And,” you repeated. “And…”

You sighed in defeat and turned back to your drink, closing yourself away. He was more than smart enough to know where you were going with that, but he insisted on making you be the one to say it. You wouldn’t allow him to make you insult yourself, especially after you had ventured to bring up the tenuous topic in the first place. If he refused to argue or even acknowledge your conclusions, then you’d let your drink be the friend to assuage those old hurts. The echoed sigh to your side did little to move you from your new stake out with your wounds and your wine.

Mihawk pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to call you foolish so his own mind would stop branding him with that word. He had been ever vigilant of you throughout the years, not only in an effort to soak you in every moment he could, but also to latch on the moment he noticed you offering him a true opening. You had finally bared your throat to him and he had managed to fail at your final test to check that he would not stoop to bite - that he would only beg to kiss.

While taking his next sip of wine, Mihawk extended an olive branch in the form of a thigh pressed firmly into yours. He was barely able to keep in the frustrated growl that pressed at his chest when you shifted yourself away. You did turn your eyes to him out of curiosity, however, but he missed the look completely, too busy reassembling himself. It let you watch carefully as the flaming lights turned his hat’s extravagant feather amber in their glow when he lifted it off his head to place on the bartop. It let him run his fingers back through his thick black curls, trying to shake his disappointment off with the teasing of his strands.

He looked over at you and finally caught on to your observing. Mihawk let his regret pour over his face, even letting his lips twitch into a momentary, rueful smile. You replied with a tired smile of your own. In the end, it turned sweet and loving; a bad habit of yours with the swordsman. You pressed your thigh back to his.

In a rare show of humility, propelled by the heat of your thigh warming his and the sweet crinkles your smile brought to your eyes (Just for me, he thought with doting greed), Mihawk took your hand and bowed himself low to touch his forehead to your knuckles. His thumb soothed gentle circles into it while he stayed lowered to you for a few long breaths. He was eager to enjoy the feeling of your skin and the decadent scent of your perfume, strong now with the proximity of your wrist. You had chosen something sultry and heady with its deep notes of orchid and amber and wood, all calling to him until he acted with thought a millisecond behind instinct.

He flipped your hand over, slowly and gently, cradling it palm up in his large hand. Still stooped, he had to move scant inches to brush the tip of his nose across the thin skin on the inside of your wrist, savoring the pull of your perfume going deep into his lungs and leading his mind to a content haze. He sealed the small caress with a feathery brush of his lips over your pulse, wishing he could make himself press harder to feel your heart thump against his lips. He longed to know if it raced with the same jumping cantor as his.

When he sat back up he was met with a vision from his dreams. You had fully turned your face to him and it was lit with a deep flush made more rosy in the fire-cast light of the bar. No ambient chatter nor clinking cutlery could keep his ears from delighting in the hitch of your breath in and the contented sigh out. Another smile indulged him, this one easily crowned his favorite with its happy chuckle, pressing cheeks, and bare affection. 

“I am a man who takes what I want,” Mihawk confirmed your words delicately. He continued to hold your hand, now enfolding it in both of his. You felt bright tingling shooting from the contact and the press of your thighs. They made you twenty again, staring down the most handsome and insipidly arrogant man you’d ever met and cursing your heart for its clear choice. “I take what I want, not who I want. People aren’t for the taking, little viper.”

You laughed at the title, never feeling it sat quite right. You felt you wore it well at work only. The imagery it brought up of femme fatales and their hypnotizing looks and lethal wit made you feel like a young girl cloaked ill-fittingly in her mother’s best event wear, barely able to peek your head out of the wool coat dwarfing you. Mihawk noted your discomfort with the title throughout the years but never found the proper words to have you see that all who said it were reverent when they saw how well the word wrapped over you.

“What if-” again you hesitate. You scrunch your face in anger at your nature, but before Mihawk had time to bring a hand to your face and soothe it back into a smile, you force out the words. “What if I am for the taking?”

Mihawk’s thumbs stopped their massaging and you felt his thigh jump to tense against your own. Staring into his widening eyes and how they glowed so beautifully - too beautifully to be within your reach - you immediately wished you could suck the words right back into your lungs. You made it this far though, so you instead worried at your lip and clung your hand onto Mihawk’s stalled hold.

Finally, he unfroze.

“For the night only?” Mihawk probed, wanting answers but worrying about making you close off again.

“Do you only want the night?” You tossed back to him, unwilling to turn this propositioning into a confession of the long years you have built a deep and sturdy love for him, no matter your attempts to welcome others into its halls.

“What I want,” Mihawk said, gentle and deliberate in coloring his tone with humble honestly, “is to be what you want.”

You were taken aback by the confession, but you were even more awed by the look he was giving you. He was still slightly stooped, broad shoulders gently curved and bent towards you, pulled down under the need to lower himself below you but body still gravitating towards you with the magnetism he’s been weak to since you first crossed paths. Framed by those shoulders and his wild curls, Mihawk looked to you with the sadly tinted longing you had felt seize you in his presence all this time. While the furrow of his brow and glimmer of his eyes had your brain buzzing with more hope than you’d dare let it host before, your chest squeezed at the conflict you saw in him; you knew that torment in your very bones.

“You always have been,” you whispered on a trembling breath. Mihawk’s eyes went wild for a moment where his whole body tensed and you felt his urge to pounce on you steal the oxygen from the room. He thanked the gods for a majority of his life spent learning control and restraint, while he got himself in order and pressed the firm kiss he’d longed for to your wrist instead. 

“Come with me,” Mihawk commanded through lips still pressed to your skin, though it was the closest you’d heard him to begging in your entire life.

You let yourself partake in a longtime wish by moving your other hand to card your fingers back into his thick hair, happy to find that it was just as soft as you had imagined. Their trailing came back around to have your palm cup his jaw. He leaned into the touch, tickling your hand with the rub of his precise facial hair when he allowed himself one small nuzzle into your loving hold. That hand guided him up to meet your eyes so he could see the love you held for him finally displayed openly in all its abundance.

“Wherever you ask me to, I will go,” you promised.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

#mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #opla mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #one piece #request #my writing #fem reader #x reader #one piece x reader #mihawk x you #mihawk x y/n #one piece fanfiction #mihawk fanfiction #opla

[gloomwitchwrites]

Spiced Wine

Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief alcohol use, dancing, fluff, romantic tension

Word Count: 2.2k

During a winter festival, you dance with a stranger.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

Winter is knocking on the door.

There is a thin dusting of snow upon the ground. All of Erebor and Dale is out this evening with little regard for the chill. The solstice begins tonight and with it comes the changing of the season along with celebrations to mark the end of the harvest.

You stand just outside Erebor’s massive doors. A large crowd enters, seeking the warmth within the dwarven halls. King Thrór is hosting a massive feast full of food, lively music, and dancing. While Erebor is the host, all of Dale is invited, and that also includes many of the surrounding communities.

This will be your first time entering the dwarven kingdom, and you’re nervous. Sweat blooms in your palms, and you aren’t sure whether you should see this through or turn tail and go home.

But if you return home, you will be alone, and you’re sick of being alone.

Your life in Dale is pleasant, and you enjoy working in one of the few bookshops, but it is almost always only you. Most of your family is gone or dwelling in faraway places. There is only you to rely on, and over the last few years, more and more of the men in Dale have been…forward with their intentions.

Their attention is nice, but it’s also exhausting. Every time the bell over the door rings, you expect it to be a customer. Most of the time it’s one of the many single men wishing to speak with you. You have to put on a smile and get through it as best you can.

You want to enjoy yourself tonight, even though you’d rather return home. Fortunately, you haven’t noticed any of your admirers, and you’re silently thankful for it. The last thing you need this evening is to chase off your group of men. They’ll follow you around, and then everyone else will avoid you.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you turn your nerves to steel, and walk through the massive entryway and into the main hall of Erebor. You follow the crowd, moving with them as they veer to the right, entering through several small archways.

As you near, you spot several tables. There are masks resting upon the wood in little rows, and you silently thank all the gods you know. Walking up to the nearest one, you consider your options. Before you is a beautiful assortment, each mask unique and different. The craftsmanship is exceptional. You settle on a gold mask that will cover everything but your eyes and mouth.

Securing it in place, you feel much lighter than before. With the mask, your flock of men will not find you, and even if they do, they might not realize that it is you that they’ve found. From there, you become one with the crowd, walking beneath more arches until you’re herded into the grand banquet hall.

The walls, ceiling, and floor are all made of smooth stone. The ceiling is high, and the pillars that support it are intricately carved with the images of dwarven kings from ages before. Hanging from the ceiling are strands of lights and different flora from around the area that thrive in the frigid temperatures. Those same plants are also around the room in various arrangements and displays.

The large room is separated into two sections. On one side is the food and drink. There are long tables there as well. People gather around the tables of food and near the massive barrels where people fill their cups. A good many attendees are also seated at the long banquet tables where they talk amongst themselves while they eat. The other side of the room hosts the music and people dancing.

Everything is warm and comforting. With the mask, you’re beginning to relax. You can do this. Walk the room, chat with a few people, eat some delicious food, and partake in a glass or two of strong drink. Then, you can return home, and curl up in bed with a book as the snow falls.

Starting at one end, you do a small lap, eventually making it to the large casks where people fill their cups. You delicately reach for a goblet and present it to one of the dwarves who guards the taps.

“What will it be, lassie?” he asks with a kind smile. His wrinkles crinkle when he grins.

“What do you have?”

“Well,” he begins. “There are lots of options, but there is spiced wine that just came in. It’s strong, flavorful, and filling. You won’t need much to make your toes warm.”

You laugh. “That sounds lovely.” You hand him your cup and watch as he fills it almost to the top. “Thank you.”

You take the cup and bring it to your lips. The flavor bursts on your tongue and your shoulders sag with happiness.

“Good, isn’t it?”

You nod and lightly wipe at the corner of your mouth. “Indeed. Many thanks.” He inclines his head and starts speaking with a new guest.

As you step away, you sense a change, as if someone were watching you. Pausing, you scan the room, making sure to not appear obvious in your observation. Has one of the many bachelors from Dale noticed you? Do they see you at this moment?

When you don’t notice anyone staring, you push out into the crowd, doing slow sweeps with the turn of your head. Still, nothing and no one grabs your attention. Frowning, you stick to the perimeter, stopping to chat with a few people you know.

Deja, the woman who runs the flower shop next to the bookstore you work in, leans against a nearby pillar. A man has her cornered, talking her ear off, and she’s not even paying attention. Finding your in, you saddle up beside the man.

“Deja! I’ve been looking for you!”

At first, she frowns, but then she grins mischievously and grabs your outstretched hand. The man sways a bit, and nods in confusion, stumbling off to find another woman to talk at.

“Didn’t recognize you under that mask,” she laughs, the two of you making a home against the wall.

“Trying to avoid notice,” you reply, sipping on your wine.

She snorts and leans in. “I don’t think you’re successful.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

She points her chin to a spot across the room. You follow the direction and immediately freeze. There is someone watching you. It’s one of the dwarves and the finery he wears is a deep royal blue. Interwoven into the fabric are threads of silver and metalwork that speaks to influence. He wears a silver mask that matches all that detail work. His dark hair is neatly braided, and pulled back, but you notice the soft waves and the way he holds himself.

“You’re mistaken,” you laugh nervously, this time taking a large gulp of your drink.

Deja shakes her head. “Then why is he heading this way?”

“He isn’t,” you insist, and Deja laughs loudly.

“Hand me your drink.”

“What?”

Deja snatches the cup right out of your grasp. “He’s going to ask you to dance.”

You’re about to snap back, but Deja is right. He is right there in front of you and Deja is walking away quickly, enjoying your spiced wine.

“May I ask for a dance?” The stranger presents his hand, palm upward. The rough timbre of his voice is surprising. Your body responds to it, a small piece of you buzzing with pleasure.

Maybe it’s the spiced wine finally making its way into your system. “Of course,” you answer, taking his presented hand.

Your stranger leads you out into the group of dancers. The song that begins is slightly upbeat, and you allow him to take the lead. It is a song and dance you are not familiar with, but he makes it easy to keep up, and you don’t stumble over your feet or his.

His control is impressive. Elegant, but strong. Purposeful. There is power in every step, as if he is in battle and not moving through a coordinated dance.

“I do not know your name,” he says, spinning you into his arms.

You move away, and for some odd reason, your body doesn’t like that you do. It wants you to curl back into him. It is such a strange sensation.

“And I do not know yours,” you tease, not knowing where this sudden flirtatiousness is coming from. Is it from the wine? Surely not. You didn’t even drink half of it. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re wearing a mask, and he is a stranger. There are no stakes.

The music cuts out, and then the two of you are face to face. Mere inches apart.

The music swells and begins a slower tune.

“Another? So that I may know your name?” He asks so kindly. You cannot refuse him.

Nodding, you allow him to slip an arm around your waist and pull you close. You lick your lips, preparing to give him your name, but notice how his blue eyes track the movement of your tongue. It sends an immediate heat to the space between your legs.

You give him your name, and he hums softly like it pleases him to hear it.

“I am Thorin,” comes his reply. He looks expectant, as if waiting for some sort of reaction, but the name isn’t entirely familiar. There is a slight sense of knowing, but it escapes you.

Perhaps the wine is doing more than you previously thought.

“It’s a pleasure.” You bow slightly, and you notice a bit of color blooming near the edges of his cheeks.

The two of you slowly move with the crowd of dancers. His hand on your waist is like a brand. It is hot, as if melting through the fabric of your dress to touch your skin. It feels like a new crush, like one you had when you were younger, and your emotions ran wild.

While the hand on your back is fiery, Thorin’s strength is palpable. The way he guides you across and around the dancefloor is a testament to that. Even wearing such finery, you see the ripple of muscle underneath. Your own hand, which rests on his shoulder, also clearly picks up on his strength.

There are plenty of men in Dale who are warriors. Several of them even actively pursue you. So why is Thorin any different? Why is your body responding to him like it’s as natural as breathing?

At this point, you cannot put it all on the wine. Maybe it’s because you don’t feel pursued, nearly hunted down every day. He is not pushing, and that is a welcome respite from the many months of men wearing you down, hoping that you’ll simply give in.

“You are from Dale?” he asks, guiding the two of you into a turn.

“Yes. I run a bookshop there.”

He smiles and you instantly melt, loving the attention. “You’re a reader then?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“When I have the time, I do enjoy it. Yes.”

The people around you fall into a dip and Thorin responds in kind. When he brings you back up, your foreheads are nearly touching, and your mouths could easily close the distance if one of you made the first move.

Perhaps it’s only a second, but the two of you hang there in that moment. Close, but not closing the distance. Thorin’s blue eyes are piercing. Sharp. They are like steel swords. You are cut through, down to your core, and you are unable to look away.

The music tapers off, but Thorin does not pull away. He does not remove his arm from around your waist. And you do not remove your hands from him.

“I should go,” you murmur, but make no move to break contact.

“Should you?” asks Thorin, his head tipping to the side as he examines you.

And you do draw back from him, even though it’s painful. Thorin releases you, but remains unmoving, his hands slightly outstretched before him as if you’ll step right back into them.

“Thank you. You’re a lovely partner to dance with,” you say just as the music begins to swell again.

Thorin bows deeply, and the gesture momentarily steals your breath.

“Enjoy your books. Perhaps you may find me amongst your shelves one day.”

He turns and leaves, disappearing into the crowd. Turning on your heel, you bolt for the door, your chest heaving as your heart hammers.

Deja steps into your path and her hands grab your shoulders. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes,” and you almost choke on your answer.

She frowns, her brow creasing. “Did he hurt you?”

“No!”

She sighs, her relief spreading across her face. “Oh, thank goodness.” Deja releases your shoulders and places her hands on her hips. “I’d end up in Erebor’s dungeons for assaulting the crown prince if he had.”

“The what?” you splutter, eyes round and alert as you turn around to look for Thorin.

“Did you not know?” asks Deja skeptically.

You swallow, and don’t answer.

“By the gods,” laughs Deja. “What did he say to you?”

Gripping the front of your dress, you turn back to Deja. “He said he might come to the shop.”

Her eyes widen a moment before a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “He likes you.”

“Don’t say that,” you hiss.

Her laugh is loud as she grabs your wrist and guides you to the exit. Tucking her arm around yours, she pulls you in close. “You’re giving me detail of this encounter.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado

#thorin oakenshield fanfiction #thorin oakenshield fic #thorin oakenshield fanfic #thorin oakenshield fluff #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin oakenshield x female reader #thorin oakenshield x f!reader #thorin oakenshield x fem!reader #thorin fanfiction #thorin fanfic #thorin fic #thorin fluff #thorin x reader #thorin x you #thorin x fem!reader #thorin x female reader #thorin x f!reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fic #the hobbit movies #king thorin #prince thorin #erebor #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit thorin #thorin

[icaruspendragon]

yeah yeah i question the romanticization of every little thing as much as the next cynically-inclined gal but like. there really is beauty everywhere. it is kinda refreshing to let bitches be whimsical. to let yourself be a bitch with a penchant for whimsy. because sometimes the only thing that eases the heaviness put in my stomach by the abject horrors is when my friends come over on tuesdays and i get to make them dinner. when i’m drinking a glass of wine and making pasta and dancing to bluegrass in my kitchen and i hear laughter from the other room. like it really is okay to let the little things warm you.

and i know i have a reputation of goodness and kindness and resilience and whatever so i’m sure you’re thinking “that’s so easy for you to say!” but i had to work for that shit. i had to fight for a sunny disposition.

my dad was never around, always choosing women and booze over me and my brother. i was the weird kid people bullied practically my entire time in school. i’m an addict who was forced kicking and screaming into sobriety. i was assaulted in college and the university didn’t believe me. i’ve got depression and insomnia and severe anxiety and panic disorder. i’ve been on 23 different antidepressants/anxiety meds/mood stabilizers over the past 15 years and none of them have worked and sometimes i’m afraid that i’m meant to be sad forever. sometimes i worry that i’ve never actually been happy. my brother died from suicide on my 25th birthday and there wasn’t even a note. i’m well aware of how awful the world can be. of how terrible shit can get.

and i know it’s not life changing or revolutionary, but damnit, i’m going to get excited when i’m reading a fanfic and the two characters finally kiss. i’m going to laugh when my brother tells me a dumb joke. i’m going to let my heart swell while i’m wearing my flour covered apron, when i’m leaning against the doorway to my dining room, holding my glass of wine curled close to my chest while my friends are eating happily and i’ve finally perfected my gnocchi recipe and all the people i love are happy and safe and full of food i prepared with my own two hands as they sit around my table.

the world has not been kind to me but i’ll be damned if i let it continue to make me hard. i deserve softness. i deserve sweetness. i deserve gentle moments. and if the world won’t give them to me? fine. i’ll make them myself.

so yeah, i often wanna scoff when i see someone stop to smell the roses. but i don’t. because the world is so fucking hard. and i don’t see the point in making it harder on ourselves. it’s so much easier to be numb. to be jaded and bitter. to think of my heart as a wretched organ trapped by a terrible vise of a bone. but then i see sunlight filtering through leaves and it makes me smile and i feel my heart beating and i remember i may be small and i may be fleeting, but i’m alive. and my heart, that wretched organ, beats defiant and persistent in my chest. and the sunlight tells me courage, poor stupid heart of stone, and it makes me brave in a world that makes me ache.

so i will be whimsical and silly and happy despite it all, because if i don’t have that, what the hell do i have?

[natalievoncatte]

Spookycorp

Kara’s heart was racing as she stepped out of the elevator. She *knew* something was wrong when Lena sent her a single, clipped text message:

Come now. Need to talk.

The elevator opened directly into Lena’s penthouse, into her elegant, minimalist foyer. The room was dark, as was the rest of the penthouse, except for the light of a single candle. Lena sat on the expansive sofa in her living room, a box resting on her lap. Kara didn’t need to use her x-ray vision to know that it was lined with lead. Her heart sank.

“Come in,” said Lena.

Kara walked inside, waiting at a respectful distance. Lena was beautiful in candlelight, her hair so dark it dark it could drink midnight under the table, eyes sparing like chips of emerald and sapphire, chipped with gold. The light caressed her sharp jawline and made her expression severe and smoldering at the same time.

Kara had fantasies like this. Most of them involved more candlelight and more pale skin.

“I know what you are,” said Lena.

Kara’s heart skipped. She fumbled with her hands.

“You can drop the aw shucks, I’m a farm girl from Vaguely Canada routine, Supergirl.”

Kara’s heart dropped through her stomach.

“I can explain,” she began. “If you give me a chance. Lena, please, I’m your best friend.”

Lena’s eyes hardened. Very softly she said, “am I?”

“How did you find out?”

Lena reached over to her side table, swirled a glass of wine, and took a sip.

“Lex told me. After I killed him. For you.”

Kara swallowed, and took a step forward. “Oh my God. Lena, what happened? What did he do?”

“Stop,” said Lena. “No closer.”

Kara stopped, her chest tightening, tears starting to well in her eyes.

Lena looked down, then up.

“He was going to kill you, and I couldn’t let that happen, because I thought I was in love with you. Before I knew what you are.”

The words hit Kara harder than anything she’d felt before, punching through her heart like the Kryptonite stake that was probably resting in that box. No, it wasn’t possible. She’s been so careful, Kal has been so careful.

“Lex had proof, but I didn’t trust it. I had to find corroboration. That’s why I talked you into taking me to the Fortress, so I could download the records I needed and examine them.”

Kara swallowed. “I would have given you what you wanted if you’d asked.”

“No, you wouldn’t, because you cover your tracks. You tell everyone that your powers come from the sun, but you’re lying.”

Kara wrung her hands, looking out at the moon. It hung full, heavy and huge in the National City sky.

“Not exactly. We have our powers here because Sol affects us differently. It doesn’t…”

“It doesn’t destroy Kryptonian vampires like you and your cousin,” Lena finished. “It doesn’t weaken your powers in sunlight or burn your skin, so you have nothing to fear here but Kryptonite.”

Kara licked her lips, feeling her fangs aching in her gums as they often did when Lena Luthor was in the room.

“Have you ever fed on me? I know about the other powers, Kara. The ones you and your cousin haven’t told everyone one about. Like modifying memories.”

Kara started. “What? No. I don’t feed directly on humans. When I was younger, my human family took turns giving me a unit of whole blood a month. That’s all I need. We don’t need as much on Earth. I’ve never bitten anyone on Earth. Kal-El trained me not to when I arrived here. Lena, I promise, I’m not some kind of predator.”

Kara edged closer, and Lena put her hand on the box. Kara froze.

“Liar.”

“Lena, please.”

“Your cousin has been feeding on Lois Lane for years. Lex had proof. Very thorough proof. He’s not as slick as he thinks, your Clark.”

Kara looked down.

“It was her choice. It’s tradition for my people. When one of us falls in love, we…”

“What, start seeing your ‘lover’ as a glorified bag of cheeze-its?”

Kara shifted on her feet. “No, we turn them. Clark is going to turn her after they marry. She’ll be like us.”

Lena’s gaze bored into her.

“I had to know, and now I do.”

“Lena, I would never hurt you, or feed on you against your will. I never feed on anyone against their will.”

“You’re lying.”

“Lena.”

“Lex had proof of that, too,” said Lena. “You do feed. On criminals, on people you think won’t be missed, and on James.”

“James was willing,” said Kara. “The others… it hurts, Lena. Clark’s path is hard. Too hard. I’m not perfect. You can’t imagine what the thirst is like. It’s like a hot railroad spike in my gut. I need it.”

“I thought about this for a long time,” said Lena. “I had to look you in the eye and hear it from you. I didn’t know what to do. You feed on people’s blood, but the city… the world needs Supergirl. So what do I do?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” said Kara. “I can just go, or… I don’t want to go, Lena. I know you’re upset, I know you’re mad, but you asked me here for a reason. I know you want to give me a chance. What we have, our friendship, it’s bigger than this. It can survive this. I want it to.”

Lena sighed. “Kara, I killed my brother for you, in cold blood.”

Kara swallowed. “I know. I know you loved him. I’m so sorry. I wish I could have helped you somehow. Maybe if I’d told you my identity earlier, we could have saved him.”

Lena opened the box.

Kara jolted back, expecting sickly pustulant light to sear the flesh from her bones, but there was no Kryptonite in the box.

Instead there was a pair of silvery bracelets, resting on black velvet.

“I had to make sure you couldn’t see inside,” said Lena. “No peeking.”

Kara swallowed, hard. “Those are binding bracelets. Do you know what those are for?”

Lena nodded slowly.

“You can come closer now. Sit.”

Kara stepped around the coffee table and sat primly near Lena, at a respectful distance, hands folded in her lap.

Lena leaned back against the arm rest and pulled her inky black hair back from her neck, tilting her chin back. Offering.

Kara could smell her, the scent exploding in her nostrils. She could feel Lena’s pulse and her own began to throb in time with it, the aching in her gums exceeded by the pleasant ache between her legs.

“What are you doing?” Kara murmured.

“Offering.”

“Why?”

Lena reached out and caressed her bare foot along Kara’s calf. Kara couldn’t help it. Her fangs popped out against her will for the first time in ages.

“Does it feel good for Lois? When he feeds on her?”

“So I’m told. Our fangs secret a mild neurotoxin that has some pleasant effects.”

“How long have you been thinking about tasting me?”

Kara shuddered. “It’s not like that. You’re my best friend.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “You know, I used to think you were just oblivious, or very, very closeted. Now I get it.”

“Lena,” Kara said, more urgently.

Lena’s foot slid higher up Kara’s leg. “It must be hard holding back all that hunger. Surrounded by food you can never taste. Is that why you’re always stuffing yourself with potstickers? You’d rather be eating me?”

Kara swallowed, hard.

“Maybe. Yes.”

“I’m right here.”

“I won’t. Not unless you say it, Lena. Not unless you offer it. Explicitly.”

“Kara, do it. Take me.”

Kara lunged across the sofa, pulling Lena to her so she lay flat on the cushions, and drove her fangs into Lena’s throat as she ground her thigh between Lena’s legs. She knew what Lena planned and she didn’t care.

Lena yelped in pain from the puncture wounds, but her cry quickly melted into a pleasurable moan as she writhed beneath Kara, driving her nails into Kara’s back.

Kara drank slowly, gently, taking only a trickle and feeling Lena’s pulse in her throat. She’d wanted this for so long, she started to weep from the sheer release of it, tears streaming down her cheeks. Lena’s blood sang with magic, the taste of her more intense than the most exotic spices, more flavorful than the sweetest wine. It was better than sex, although now that she had Lena’s blood on her tongue, she was hoping that was on the menu, too.

She heard the click and felt the cold metal close around her wrist and sighed.

“So that’s your solution,” Kara whispered.

“Lex couldn’t make it work,” said Lena. “I always loved how much it pissed him off that his bastard sister has magic and he doesn’t.”

Lena closed the other bonding bracelet around her own wrist, and Kara instantly felt the weight of the connection, the power in it, and knew she was helpless. She didn’t care.

“Kneel,” said Lena.

Kara slid off of Lena and onto her knees, head bowed.

“There,” said Lena. “Now I know. I know the world gets to keep Supergirl and I know you’re not a threat.”

“I knew what you were going to do,” said Kara. “I let you. If this is what you need to trust me, I’m okay with it.”

Lena took Kara’s chin in her fingers and tilted her head up, leaning forward to meet her gaze.

“I could do whatever I want with you now. With a Kryptonian vampire under my control, I could rule the world.”

“You could,” Kara whispered. “You can make me do it whatever you please. You never needed magic for that. I would do it willingly.”

“I know,” said Lena, “but this is going to be a lot of fun.”

“I was a little worried you’d tell me never to see you again,” said Kara. “Or you’d demand I turn you.”

Lena laughed. “Darling, do you have any idea how much power I’d have to give up to become a vampire?”

Lena ran a hand down Kara’s arm, squeezing her bicep.

“Now, carry me to the bedroom and let’s see what you can do.”

Kara didn’t need to be ordered to do that.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #supercorptober2023 #borderline smut #kryptonians are vampires #lena is a witch #magic kink #kinky magic #kinkycorp #supercorptober

[draco-dormiens]

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Twenty Two

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

warnings: strong language, angst, alcohol use (characters are 18+)

wc: 3375

masterlist

taglist is now closed - i’ve officially run out of tags! thank you all

One Hell of a Dinner Party

"So, Draco, your mother tells us you've taken a fancy to Ministry work," Mr Greengrass asks the young Malfoy heir from across the long dark wood table, between them a feast for at least a hundred people laid out by house elves scuttering to and fro, "fine place, the Ministry. Well, under the correct management, that is."

The man laughs, as Lucius joins purely out of politeness. Draco, too, manages a small laugh, as he pushes the food around his plate.

"Well, I've been thinking about that, yes," he answers, Astoria gazing at him from across the way, Daphne on her umpteenth glass of wine, "but I also like medicine, sir, so maybe a job at St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo's, you say?" the older gentlemen looks over at this wife, Mrs Greengrass, who cuts her food into pea size pieces, and gives her an rather unreadable look, "very noble of you son, to want to help others, but what about the pay, and the hours? Not a very suitable job for a family man, wouldn't you agree, Lucius?"

"Ah, well, we have always told Draco he may choose whatever profession he would like," Lucius goes on to explain, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin, "I'm sure, once he has climbed up the ranks, he will have more flexibility with the job."

Mr Greengrass scoffs amusingly.

"And how long would that take, Lucius? Narcissa, surely you would prefer Draco to choose a much more stable profession? There are plenty of places in accounting at the Ministry, I can always put a good word in for your boy." said Mr Greengrass.

Draco clenches his fist under the table. If it wasn't for his mother breathing down his neck, he would've given old Greengrass a piece of his mind. Astoria, like a deer in the headlights, looks between the adults with a nervous disposition.

"The offer is very much appreciated, isn't it, dear?" Narcissa then speaks up, looking over at Draco with a desperate sort of look in her eyes. Draco, already fed up and even more so now Mr Greengrass had voiced his opinion, takes a deep breath and forces a smile onto his face.

"Tell me, Mr Greengrass," Draco said in the most sarcastic tone he could muster, Daphne shaking her head at him in the corner of his eye in an attempt to stop whatever he was thinking about saying, "you've been at the Ministry for some time now. How do you find sleeping at night?"

"Right, how about some dessert?" Narcissa says very loudly, chair legs scraping along the dining room floor as she begins gathering plates and passing them to the tiny house elf, "I made the most delicious looking pavlova. Mrs Greengrass, care for some? Tea or coffee, anyone?"

Her voice seemed to be getting higher in pitch as she spoke, the tension now thick and rather unpleasant. Within a few minutes, the table was cleared and in floated several mouth-watering desserts. Along with Narcissa's pavlova, there was freshly baked strawberry cheesecake, double chocolate fudge cake and boats of pouring cream and custard. As the dessert settled on the tables service, talk of school began, and Draco's mind started to drift far away from the conversation around him.

"We are so proud of Astoria," Mrs Greengrass boasts, helping herself to the thinnest slice of cheesecake the world has ever seen, "we have full faith she will come out with top marks. Such a clever and interesting young woman."

Daphne snorts quietly as she indulges in chocolate cake, Draco meeting her eyes with a small smirk tugging at his lips. Astoria gives her sister a stern look. Their mother then changes the subject to Draco's school days, much to his dismay.

"Astoria tells us that you're rather sporty, Draco," Mrs Greengrass then asks, picking at her cheesecake, "she says you've taken up Quidditch this year?"

"He's always played Quidditch, Ma," Daphne rolls her eyes, "can't you remember?"

"The best seeker Slytherin has seen in years," Astoria speaks loudly over her sister, "Madam Hooch even says so. Thanks to him Slytherin have done extremely well this year."

"Isn't that wonderful, dear?" Mrs Greengrass says to Mr Greengrass, who hums in agreement as his mouth is full of pavlova, "and have you always liked playing Quidditch, dear?"

Draco clears his throat.

"I had a break in sixth year," he explains, all eyes now on him, "but I recently got back into it," he pauses for a moment, glancing at the six people around the table, "a good friend of mine helped me regain my passion for it."

Astoria choked a little on her dessert, before gulping down a glass of water.

"It's always nice to have good friends around you," Mrs Greengrass smiles, "does your friend also play Quidditch? Is he into sport?"

"She doesn't play, no," Draco smiles, the thought of you making his evening feel a little lighter. Daphne excuses herself to use the restroom, sensing the rise in tension as her mother's eyes widen to the size of the dessert plates.

"She?" Mrs Greengrass repeats in a sort of strained voice.

"Draco, why don't you tell Mr and Mrs Greengrass about your potions classes this year? You've thoroughly enjoyed them, haven't you?" Narcissa nudges Draco's leg under the table harshly, glaring at him over her cheesecake and cream.

"Do you have many friends, Draco?" Mrs Greengrass asks, shrugging off Narcissa, her face souring even though she was trying her best to keep a smile on her face. Mr Greengrass, oblivious to the current topic, was talking Lucius' ear off about his recent investment at the Ministry.

Draco grits his teeth, remembers what he's enduring this for, and lays down his fork.

"No, ma'am," he digs his nails into his knee to ease some of the frustration, Astoria staring at him with such intensity he almost feels his skin burning, "I'm afraid I don't mix all that well."

"He's being modest," Astoria laughs awkwardly, "Draco has many friends. Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini; you remember them, Mummy?"

She hums, and takes a miniscule bite of cheesecake.

Once dessert was over, the plates were cleared and in came the pots of tea and coffee, floating on silver trays with small, sugared biscuits on each coaster. A teacup was given to each of them, followed by their choice with cream or milk. Small talk passed the time, as Draco contemplated his entire existence in his cup of tea. In his pocket sits the little velvet box, a rock nestled in a silver band inside, waiting to be placed on Astoria's long, pale finger. He catches her line of vision when he looks up, and she smiles over her cup. He smiles back, and the guilt of his unrequited feelings starts to make him feel nauseous.

As soon as tea and coffee was finished, Narcissa leads the guests back to the drawing room, where fresh bottles of wine and glasses had been placed on a golden tray in the centre of the coffee table. The fire was smoldering, as even in the summer, the large rooms of Malfoy Manor rarely heat up enough. Conversation starts once more, and the time for Draco's proposal creeps ever closer. He could feel his parents eyes on him every second, any time he refilled Astoria's glass with sparkling grape presse and her fingers brushed his, even when he shuffled slightly in his seat. The anticipation was clearly killing them. Even Mrs Greengrass jolted when he moved. It seemed everyone was eager, except for him. Daphne became topic of conversation for a while, Narcissa asking her twenty questions from her job search to her love life.

"I just love wizarding fashion, Mrs Malfoy," Daphne explains, playing with the ends of her golden, silky hair. Daphne was always beautiful, but Blaise had long made his interests known for the eldest Greengrass daughter, "Madam Malkin has been so kind as to let me help her around the shop, only to get some experience. I want to be a steam stress eventually, and design my own tasteful gowns for young witches."

"And what about Pansy?" Draco hears his mother ask, and his heart drops to his feet upon remembering what Pansy had witnessed, "do you still see one another? I have invited the family over to the manor a few times. Lovely girl, isn't she, Draco?"

"Uh, yeah," Draco nods, trying to sound genuine, "she was always... around, right, Daph?"

Daphne stifles a laugh.

"Indeed she was," Daphne agrees, and then smirks devilishly, "I think the reason for that was her... what shall we call it... interest, in you, Dray."

"Interest. Sure." Draco sips on his wine as Daphne turns her head to chuckle. It would seem Pansy knew better than to blab about her findings that night; she may be a lot of things, Pansy Parkinson, but being disloyal to Draco didn't seem to be one of them. She knew, just as well as he did, that Draco knew her all too well. There were a fair few things he was sure her parents would be interested to find out about their precious Pansy.

"Would anyone care for a drink in the garden?" Narcissa then asks, giving Draco a knowing look, "Draco, why don't you take Astoria to see my flower beds and wait for us to join you?"

This was the moment he'd been dreading. In his mother's letter, she strictly said to be prepared for when she offers the Greengrasses a drink in the garden. That was the perfect time, she said, to get down on one knee. As Astoria's parents walk out into the courtyard, surrounded by Narcissa's immaculate flower beds, Draco would be asking for their daughter's hand in marriage. How romantic, his mother had written, under the summer moon. It will be spectacular.

How scripted, more like, is what Draco thought.

A sudden cold sweat dripped down Draco's back. He grips the little box in his pocket, and for a long moment, doesn't respond to what his mother was asking of him. He didn't realise how long he'd been standing there, slack-jawed, until Narcissa cleared her throat loudly and gave him a look only a mother could.

"Oh, uh, yes, I can do that," he then rushes out, and holds out a clammy hand for Astoria to take, "please, let me lead the way."

She takes his hand without haste. Draco, silently, takes the girl out of the drawing room and through the house, all the while gripping the box in his pocket. Astoria, not sure what to make of Draco's strange behaviour, remains just as quiet, her heels clicking along the tiled floors and echoing in the stale air. As they neared the glass doors leading to the courtyard, they pass the staircase leading up to the room which Draco took you to. The one with the big window that seems to look out at the entire universe. He stops, dead in his tracks, and stares at the doorway.

"I was just thinking how big the world is, you know?" you had said, and he remembers looking across at you and thinking how nice you looked. How pretty you were, and how ignorant he was for never noticing that, "like, all those little specs in the sky are something, and we're just here. Looking up at them. A small piece in a big puzzle."

He recalls thinking that your mind must be a rather interesting place, to come out with something as deep as that. But then you asked him, perhaps the most complicated question he'd ever heard, and if he thinks about it, if you were to ask him now, his answer would be completely different.

"Have you ever loved anyone?"

He remembers, his answer was no. And he was quite confident in that answer, but now...

Now he had tasted what it felt like to crave someone, to want their presence even in the most mundane moments. When he's alone in bed at night. When he's reading in silence. When he's needing a comforting word or someone to lean on.

"Draco?" Astoria's voice sounds distant, "are you alright?"

A tidal wave of memories came rushing back to him. Christmas. Watching the stars, playing chess in the Astronomy tower. Burning potions. Arguing. The moment you threw that silly little drawing into the fire. All those nights you spent listening to him ramble on about constellations. The taste of your lips and the feeling of your hand in his. How, no matter how much he tries, he simply cannot be without you. A piece of him was forever missing.

"Draco," Astoria shakes him a little, worry plastered all over her face when he finally snaps out of it and faces her, "what's wrong? You went rigid and pale. Are you feeling well?"

"I, uh..." he begins, but the words get stuck, and suddenly the long corridor is suffocating, the air is thin and his suit is uncomfortable, "need some air."

He rushes off without her, loosening his tie and running a hand through his neat hair. Astoria hurries after him, calling for him to slow down, to tell her what was wrong. As he approaches the courtyard doors, he pushes them open with so much force that the glass rattles in the panes. The cooler night air hits him like a bludger to the head, and for the first time in an extremely long time, one thing was so strong and clear in his mind that everything else was getting lost within it, and his strength was returning to his spent and beaten soul.

"I can't do this," he says, as Astoria comes to a halt behind him, panting slightly, "I... can't do this. I see it now. All this time I've... What the fuck am I doing?"

Astoria doesn't say anything, instead, she merely comes to stand beside him. For a long moment, they just stand in silence.

"Draco," Astoria then breaks it, and Draco's watery eyes meet hers, "we both know what is expected of us tonight. Right now, as we stand here, they are waiting for the right time to witness our engagement. Even Daphne sussed it."

"Astoria," Draco's quiet voice says, "I can't-"

"Do you believe in soul mates, Draco?" Astoria continues, but Draco can't seem to find an answer. The pretty brunette continues anyway, "because I do. I believe it's not our hearts that yearn for another, but our souls. I like to think, that somewhere out there, a soul wanders this earth looking for its other half... it's soul mate."

She then turns to face him fully, a gust of wind ruffling her long brown locks. A smile graces her features, and she gently places her hand on his face.

"I want you to know, whatever you chose to do tonight, I understand," she whispers to him, "because the other half of my soul is still out there... but you, Draco, you have found yours."

"What are you saying, 'Storia?" Draco mutters, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, "you've always been so adamant that this is what needs to happen. Why the sudden change of heart?"

She shrugs.

"It's true, that I'd be happy to marry you, Draco," she admits freely, "but seeing you tonight, how stressed you've been, how unsettled throughout dinner. Why should someone make you feel that way? No matter what way you look at it, you are unhappy. We would marry, and you would still be unhappy. You'd learn to live with it, because that's the kind of man you are. Monogamous and faithful," she retracts her hand and looks out over the garden, "when you stopped back there, you were thinking of her, weren't you?"

"I feel so terrible," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, "why is this happening?"

"I want you to understand that I will never think ill of you, Draco," Astoria reassures him, "I don't think I ever could. If you walk away now, then I will not stop you. If you chose to stay and marry me, then I can only ask that you learn to live with your decision, and we make the best out of this situation. You have a choice. I never should have made you think otherwise. It was wrong of me."

A choice. Draco has never been presented with one of those before. He takes a deep, shaky breath and then remembers Grangers words. He remembers the dinner at Weasleys, the chance that Granger had taken the liberty to offer him, and as if a fire was lit from under him, courage and warmth spread throughout his entire body.

"Astoria," he says firm and serious, turning his entire body to face her fully, and takes her hands in his, "I want you to know that I have always and will always wish you happiness. You will make someone very happy one day, I'm absolutely certain of it, but mostly," he presses a quick kiss to her hand, "I thank you, for giving me something no one ever has before."

"What's that?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

"A choice," he whispers, and she smiles a teary smile.

"Go to your soul mate, Draco," she tells him, "and don't look back, you understand?"

He pulls her into his embrace, squeezes her as if his life depends on it, and backs away before breaking into a sprint across the garden. If he was to make it, he at least had to apparate to Weasleys before the night was over. But first, he had to get as far away from the manor as he could. Behind him, he could hear the commotion, and Mr Greengrasses furious voice bellowing.

"What do you mean he's gone?" the man shouts, Astoria's calmer voice trying to explain the situation best she could. Draco hid behind a large oak tree, far enough away to apparate safely. As he catches his breath, he hears Mrs Greengrass uncontrollably sobbing and wailing into the night like a hurt animal.

"Stood up! Our precious Astoria! You should be ashamed Narcissa, ashamed I tell you!"

"It's not like that!" Astoria's voice yelled, causing the ruckus to seize, "this is a mutual decision, mother."

"Our son would never do this without reason, Mrs Greengrass, please be assured," Narcissa tries to quell the situation, "there has to be a perfectly good explanation."

"He's in love with someone else," Daphne puts simply, and gasps from all around are heard throughout the night, "he has to be. Silly boy thinks he's hiding it well. Couldn't be more obvious if he said it out right."

"With who, exactly?" Narcissa asks frantically, "not once has he mentioned..." she trails off, remembering a slice of conversation between them, a small detail she should have paid much more mind to, when he asked "Would you and father resent me?"

"Narcissa!" Mr Greengrass says abruptly, "explain this mess or so help me-"

"If you speak to my wife in that tone again, Mr Greengrass, I think you may need to leave." Lucius says coolly, coming to stand before the man, who was much smaller in comparison.

"No need to worry, Lucius, as we are very much leaving," Mr Greengrass flares his nostrils, "girls, get your coats. Never again are we stepping foot in this house."

Mrs Greengrass, still sobbing and wailing, follows her husband back through the house. Daphne politely thanks Narcissa and Lucius with a sympathetic smile. As Astoria passes, she thinks twice about saying something, and then double backs on herself.

"Mr and Mrs Malfoy," she calls back, and they both turn to face her, "Draco may not want me to intervene, but I must say this," She pauses, looking back as her father calls for her, "he has tried, for many months now, to gather the courage to marry how you wish. He has battled with his true feelings and the fear of disappointing you. Even I, and I realise now I had no place, tried to convince him that he must follow this path, and not the one he chooses for himself," another furious call from Mr Greengrass and Astoria begins backing away towards the glass doors, "please, if there's one thing I can ask of you, it's that you hear him out. Please."

"ASTORIA, IF YOU DON'T GET HERE RIGHT NOW-"

"Please, listen to him," are her final words as shes rushing back through the doors and out of sight, leaving Narcissa and Lucius in a state of utter confusion.

And just over the way, behind the large oak tree, Draco successfully apparates to the Weasley's home.

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

tags:

@lovesanimals0000 @cappgyuccino @lightning1ce @onlygetaway @honeyyypeach @namelesslosers @ghostyv @mikadorbs @redactedhimbo @morganadpl @scarecrowscaresthomas @camille-1019 @valkyrie418 @animeloverfreak310 @budugu @marplest @torresbarnes @bunny24sstuff @champagneesupernova @serafilms @siriusly-parker-main @lovely-maryj @i-bitch-you-bitch @astablacksword @sun-fiower-seed @tinafuentes @venusjustleft @omgitstatertot @aangsupremacy @ilovezy @leclerc16s @aslanvez @talesofadragon @3vasaur @the-skys-musical-echo @yeolsbubbles @idk-dolans @xx-kiraa-xx @sunbruized @vinkiesz @snickersmee @fandomrulesall-blog @astheraa @idkatee @marsanhwa @vintageoldfashion @63sucker @j-n-i-c-o-l-e @anarchistsons @smallsweetvanillabean @newbooksmell777 @tangomangroves @neoteezrenyoung @l0v3lies @delusionally-loveless-by-choice @higanbanagirl @ace152435 @arcanebabe @slythermuf @hea-vin @zucchinimalfoy @carolineesnell

#draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x female reader #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco imagine #draco angst #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hpff

[greyskyflowers]

Obsessed with the idea that Nami and Zoro occasionally have a girls night.

Another post based on Nami and Zoro being chaotic and loving bffs? Yep

💙

It all started out as a way to get Zoro to bathe regularly. They're both gay as hell, and the whole crew all live on top of each other, so stripping in front of each other is nothing new or special.

Then it shifted into sneaky attempts to get the good booze and drive Sanji nuts when they'd disappear together.

Then it became a thing.

Nami goes all out on their bath nights.

Zoro originally fought against the whole idea, very similar to how a cat would react to being given a bath, but he has since accepted it.

He's even made his peace with wearing the towel around his head, though he insists on calling it a towel hat, because Nami says it's part of the experience.

She brings out her favorite towels, so soft and fluffy that her fingers leave indents as she holds them.

A little trinket box is also retrieved and picked through. Beautiful, colored glass bottles, some thin and tall while others were short and round, all full of oils that cast faded watercolor silhouettes on the walls from the low lighting.

Little bars of soap carefully carved into flowers, shells, and fish are placed near the bath. Some of the finer details already smoothed away from previous use.

The lotions are pushed off to the side until later, looking refreshingly cool and milky in thick jars.

There are a few candles lit and placed around the room. The flickering flames sway on the ceiling and walls like full hips.

The bubbles are edged in rainbow where they catch the light, floating off the water and around the room before disappearing in a pop.

Bath night means Sanji is more willing to part with the good alcohol he normally keeps tucked away. He always gives in to Nami, providing her several bottles and a few spotless wine glasses.

The glass looks elegant in Nami's hand, surrounded by the bubbles and low lighting. It looks breakable in Zoro's, small and misplaced when held by hands covered in scars and calluses.

Sanji also prepares a light snack, usually fruits of multiple colors all arranged in pretty patterns.

He hasn't quite made his peace with this whole situation yet but he's working on it. Everyone else just went with it, no futher questions asked beyond Luffy whining that they got extra snacks.

He doesn't know if he's jealous of Zoro... or Nami.

As they gathered more of a crew and went on more adventures, sometimes Robin would join as well.

She's cuts a haunting, beautiful presence in the low lighting. Small smiles lost behind bubbles and her long legs stretched out to knock ankles with them affectionately.

Sometimes the shadows seems more welcoming, and the lines they cast are less harsh.

Sometimes, fingers sticky from fruit open easier to let go of doubts and worries, and mouths stained with something dark and too sweet will speak with less restraint.

Sometimes when they all sit there in the soft shadows and warm water, fruit and alcohol staining their mouths and loosening their words...

Sometimes they all talk about different shades of blue.

#one piece #straw hat pirates #zoro #nami #nico robin #mugiwara crew #hints of/implied: #namivivi #frobin #zosan #setting sail with greyskyflowers

[eldritch-spouse]

Giving Cero a handjob while reading to him our marriage contract and fawning over him

Can I also just say your blog is the love of my life I love your characters and content you put so much heart into it so just thank you and hope ya basements always full of bagels😭💞💞🫶🫶🫶

[Girls, guys and ghouls give it up for the biggest brain in the basement! Also, thenk you so much, that means a lot to me. :'7 <3 Fem reader.]

Cero expected a couple of outcomes when he slid the marriage contact your way and sat at a certain distance as you read.

You could be intelligent, come to the conclusion that he's offering you a better life than you'll ever have otherwise, recognize him as the savior he is and sign it. You could sign it out of fear, not ideal but he'll take it. Or you could throw a little baby tantrum and force him to use less appealing methods of making you reconsider.

He did not expect this however.

Maybe in his fantasies. The type of thing he'd sooner be caught dead than admitting he wastes energy conjuring in his mind.

You liked that contract.

In hindsight, you liked a lot of things, not just the contract. The demonlord had simply been far too busy trying to predict everything at once to notice the way your eyes would sparkle up at him whenever he said anything, how he basically didn't even have to tug you along to this room, how you exuded raw admiration watching every new room of his mansion revealed to you. Typical that, in his own magnificent intelligence, he didn't even stop to gouge your reactions. Regardless, the contract must have been the straw that broke the camel's back, because the moment you signed it-

-By the Rings, Cero didn't even get the opportunity to gloat about the fact that you signed it- You fucking signed it so fast! So readily! So willingly! You're so docile-

You threw yourself at him like a bitch in heat.

Normally, he wouldn't stand for this. Cero doesn't want to encourage this lack of self-control and discipline in his future Queen, it would be disastrous and cruel of him to allow you to behave so beastly. But, perhaps it was the sheer infectious glee in the air, the euphoria, the anticipation, the feelings he's never felt before being so quickly returned in spite of the minuscule speck of doubt that kept rearing its head... It all sparked together in one horrifically uncouth explosion of base urges gnashing their teeth.

The monster tried to keep his composure when he offered you a drink and dragged your chair closer to himself.

Several glasses of Gluttony's finest wine later, he's standing by your side, panting quietly, sharp yet slightly fogged eyes watching your small hand stroke languidly along his twitching length while you read several sections of his written work -It's a fine contract. A bit rushed, but a product of raw talent and passion he's well and truly proud of- Both of you tug at your own clothes to combat the heated friction in the air, and Cero has to hand it to you, your diction is commendable for someone so incredibly drunk on their first taste of Hell's crimson.

" This is marvelous... " You utter after a short pause when turning the page.

Cero schemes the outline of your tits through the shabby rags you call clothing, hips rocking ever so slightly as he considers dragging his cock between them, size difference be damned. You respond by squeezing around him a bit harder, delightfully so. " You expected less from me? " The last word dips into a poorly concealed moan.

Your grin is lopsided. " ... No. "

Cero will deny it with all his strength later, but his eyes rolled a little at that timid confession.

" Very good. " His clawed hand comes to guide your harmless one more efficiently, letting you know how he likes to be worshipped. After all, it's relevant to the next part you're going to enunciate. " Continue. "

The Icon pays close attention to the reactions in your face as you re-read this particular section. Because, while some parts were left deliberately vague, he knows you can pick up on the insinuations behind much of his professional language. He took care to make it tread that thin line between perfectly adequate, easily defensible, yet deviously secretly filthy. How could you ever miss the meaning interwoven in his phrasing when his dick hovers dangerously close to your face?

The more you read, the more you seem to buzz with arousal. Cero doesn't need to be a concubus to understand those clenching thighs and hasty breathing. He bites his lip for a moment, his own excitement beading at the tip of his member, used by you to further slick things along, a lewd sound now accompanying that trembling speech. You're almost picturesque like this- With your rosy lips, that flustered blinking, reduced to a mess by the mere terms and conditions he crafted. Cero would tease you about likely making a puddle on his chair's cushion if he wasn't already biting back snarls of pleasure.

" G- God, I- Fuck... " You whisper, whatever it is that you're imagining bringing a bead of sweat to your visage.

Unable to keep himself straight for much longer, Cero bends to loom over your figure, one hand bracing his weight on said chair's top rail while a boot rests on of the stretcher.

" I'm sure you must be dying to get started, no? Why, you're already practicing! " Some humor bleeds into his poisonous tone, though the King is much too turned on to make it sound as playful as he wished.

A shiver that looks more like a death rattle makes its way down your back and, adorably, you find your tongue tied in knots. Cero all but chuckles cruelly when you can't find the voice to continue reading, mind muddling into blind want.

" I'm... I'm sorry I- I can't... "

" Hush. You're forgiven, inamorata. " There's no shortage of jubilation in the Icon's toothy sneer when you effortlessly allow his digits to beckon your head closer, turning it.

He swipes the pristine pages from the table, the tip of his cock parked at your lips. You kiss him without being told to, already showing a lot of promise, and he casts you a slightly softer look while he buries as much of his length down your throat as you can handle.

" I'll do the reading for us now. "

#Cero oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #not sfw #minors dni