#HE IS SO MUCH MORE THEN THAT HE IS TROUBLED AND HAS ISSUES WITH INTIMACY HE DESERVES A SLOWBURN

[boo-moved]

Reached the point of rage

[pucksandpower]

Couples Therapy

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: let’s go to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to realize we don’t know each other

You fidget nervously in the waiting room chair, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. This has to be the most ridiculous first date idea ever …but then again, Lando was never one for convention.

The office door swings open and a smiling middle-aged woman in a cardigan beckons you both inside. “Y/N? Lando? I’m Dr. Ramanujan, please come in.”

Lando shoots you a mischievous grin and you can’t help but return it as you follow the therapist into her office. This is already off to a delightfully silly start.

“So,” Dr. Ramanujan settles into her chair, notepad at the ready. “What brings you two in today?”

You open your mouth but Lando beats you to it. “Well doc, it’s like this — Y/N and I have been together for five years now but things have gotten … sticky, you might say.”

You fight back a surprised laugh at his casual lie. Five years? You met this lunatic ten days ago.

Nodding solemnly, you play along. “Yes, unfortunately some issues have arisen that we haven’t been able to resolve on our own.”

“I see,” the therapist jots something down. “And what would you say is the primary issue troubling your relationship?”

Lando strokes his chin in mock contemplation. “You know, now that I think about it, we really struggle with intimacy.”

You splutter, cheeks flushing red. He did not just go there on a first date!

“We’re very passionate people,” he continues effortlessly. “But I think we both have some hang-ups that stop us from really connecting, you know?”

Clearing your throat, you decide to steer into the skid. “Yes, you could say Lando is quite … insatiable in that area.”

Dr. Ramanujan’s eyebrows shoot up but she simply nods. “I see, I see. And how does that make you feel, Y/N?”

“Honestly?” You shrug helplessly. “Exhausted. The man is completely relentless — it’s like he’s an animal sometimes!”

Lando clutches his chest in feigned offense. “An animal? That’s a bit much, don’t you think darling?”

“Don’t you ‘darling’ me,” you snap, pushing aside your amusement at the increasingly absurd situation. “I’m just calling it like I see it. We’re here for honesty, right?”

“Touché,” Lando turns back to the therapist. “Doc, maybe you could help us find … a compromise of sorts? Because my needs are evidently not being met.”

You scoff loudly. “Not being met? Lando, I let you do that thing with the-”

Mercifully, Dr. Ramanujan interjects before you can continue that train of thought. “Perhaps we could steer our discussion in a more productive direction? Intimacy issues often stem from deeper underlying problems within a relationship. Is there anything else concerning you both?”

Lando ponders this for a moment before snapping his fingers. “You know what? I think a big part of it is that Y/N doesn’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust you?” You echo incredulously. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. I Flirt With My Teammate Constantly!“

His jaw drops perfectly. “You’re bringing Oscar into this? That’s a low blow, babe.”

“I’m not blind!” You shoot back, doing your best to ignore how silly you both must look. “I see how cozy you two get. Tell me there’s nothing there and I’m a fool!”

“Woah, woah!” Lando holds up his hands defensively. “Oscar and I are just good friends and teammates. Nothing more.”

You cross your arms stubbornly. “If you say so.”

An uncomfortable silence falls over the room. Dr. Ramanujan seems perplexed by your crazy banter.

Finally, she clears her throat. “Right. Well, it sounds like there are some potential trust issues at play here that we should unpack-”

“Oh I’ll unpack it for you, doc!” Lando interjects, real passion entering his voice now. “Y/N is massively, astronomically insecure about our relationship. She questions my faithfulness at every turn!”

You swivel to face him fully, eyes wide. “And why, pray tell, would I possibly be insecure about that?”

“I don’t know!” He throws his hands up in exasperation. “I’ve never given you a single real reason to doubt me!”

“Except for all the pet names and inappropriate touching with Oscar!”

“Those are just friendly gestures!”

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy!”

The two of you are practically shouting at each other now, completely absorbed in your make-believe argument. Somewhere in the back of your mind you feel a bit bad for putting the poor therapist through this, but you’re having far too much fun to stop.

Dr. Ramanujan finally cuts in, raising her palms. “Okay! Okay, let’s all just take a breath, shall we?”

You and Lando freeze mid-rant, remembering where you are. He shoots you a conspiratorial wink and you have to bite your lip to suppress a smile.

“Now,” the therapist continues once the tension has diffused slightly. “Clearly there are some deep-seated resentments and triggers being hit here that we need to unravel. But I think a lot of it comes back to the intimacy and trust issues we were discussing earlier. Y/N, would you say you feel emotionally fulfilled by Lando?”

You ponder this for a moment, drawing out the suspense. Lando watches you with bated breath.

Finally, you sigh deeply. “No doc, I can’t say that I do. And maybe that’s why I’ve been so tempted to stray myself ...”

Lando’s jaw drops perfectly again. “You’ve been tempted to cheat? With who?”

Holding his gaze boldly, you declare: “My yoga instructor, actually.”

“Shane?” He looks like you just slapped him. “But he’s so … so bland!”

You shrug nonchalantly. “What can I say? Opposites attract sometimes.”

Dr. Ramanujan looks like she’s watching a tennis match, unable to get a word in edgewise.

Lando points an accusatory finger at you. “This is unbelievable! You had the audacity to blame me for the intimacy issues earlier when all this time you’ve been lusting after another man?”

“I’m a woman of insatiable needs!” You cry, borrowing his phrasing from earlier. “You said it yourself!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He turns desperately back to the therapist. “Please doc, you have to help us!”

She blinks owlishly a few times before finding her voice. “I … I’m not sure I can be of much assistance here.”

Lando clutches at his chest dramatically. “No, don’t say that! Our relationship is hanging by a thread as it is.”

“If it’s even still a relationship,” you mumble darkly, inspecting your nails with affected nonchalance.

“You see?” Lando pleads with the doctor. “This is what I’m dealing with every day! The constant barbs and lack of trust! I’m at my wit’s end.”

Dr. Ramanujan’s eyes dart between the two of you, seeming to deflate a little more after each deranged declaration. She sets her notepad aside with a resigned sigh.

“Listen, you two ...” she begins carefully. “While I appreciate you being upfront about your ...” she pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “unique situation, I’m afraid it goes well beyond my abilities as a therapist.”

You simply blink at her innocently while Lando dissolves into feigned hysterics beside you.

“But you have to help us!” He cries, flinging himself backwards dramatically. “Our relationship is the only thing I have left!”

You can’t help but let out a small giggle at his antics, quickly disguising it as a cough when the therapist shoots you a look. Dr. Ramanujan just shakes her head slowly.

“I’m sorry, but I clearly don’t have the tools or expertise to assist with … whatever this is.” She gestures vaguely between the two of you. “My advice would be to seek a different form of counseling. Or perhaps … separate for a while until you both figure out what you want.”

Lando clutches at his chest, feigning heartbreak. “Separate? Doc, you can’t be serious!”

“I’m afraid I am,” Dr. Ramanujan states firmly, rising from her chair. “This session has become … unproductive, to put it mildly. I think we should call it a day.”

You open your mouth to protest staying in character, but the defeated look on the poor therapist’s face gives you pause. With a sidelong glance at Lando, you decide to put her out of her misery.

Rising from your own seat, you loop your arm through Lando’s and favor the bewildered doctor with your most winning smile.

“You’re probably right, doc. We’ll, uh, take some time and really think things over. Thanks for your … insight today.”

Dr. Ramanujan simply nods, seemingly too drained to even reply as she opens the door and gestures you both through.

The second you’re out in the hallway, you can’t contain your laughter anymore. You dissolve into a fit of giggles, doubling over and clutching at Lando’s arm for support. He joins in instantly, that mischievous grin stretched wide across his face.

“Oh my god,” you gasp between peals of laughter. “Did you see her face when I brought Oscar into it?”

“I thought she was going to kick us out then and there!” Lando howls, wiping away a mirthful tear. “The things we put that poor woman through ...”

You finally manage to regain your composure, still grinning madly at the ridiculousness of it all. Leave it to Lando to come up with a first date idea as wonderfully insane as fake couples therapy.

“We should do something normal for our next date,” you quip, shooting him a sly look. “Like go skydiving or swimming with sharks.”

Lando matches your playful tone, draping an arm around your shoulders as you meander away from the office. “Whatever you say, darling. Just promise me you won’t leave me for one of the skydiving instructors, yeah?”

You pull him closer with a laugh. “No promises, babe.”

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x plus size reader

warnings: angst, allusions to smut, major body insecurities, troubles orgasming due to said insecurities, eddie is so incredibly sweet, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: this started out as just a little angsty thing cause i was in my feelings, but it quickly spiraled into something more. while i feel a little nervous sharing it because it directly mirrors my own experience with intimacy issues and self esteem, i hope it can maybe help someone who has felt this same way <3

“— just stop, eds. it’s clearly not gonna happen.”

he can hear the disappointment in your voice as you tug his hand out of your panties. willing away the tears that threaten to spill past your lash line.

you swear something’s wrong with you.

he’s been at this for well over an hour, having to take multiple breaks from when his fingers started to cramp up. your clit feels almost raw, yet numb to the touch. the constant circles he was rubbing against it left you with nothing but discomfort.

“sweetheart—” he whispers, brushing your hair back from your face.

but you quickly bury your face into the pillow, the sheer humiliation makes you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. you already know what he’s going to say, he’s said it more times than you can count.

“save it, please. i don’t want your pity,” your words are slightly muffled, but he hears them loud and clear.

so he stays silent, keeping his chest pressed into your back. he rubs soothing circles over the curve of your hip while you soak his pillow with your tears. each silent shake of your shoulders twists the knife deeper into his gut.

why he hasn’t left is beyond you— anyone else would have.

not only is he stuck with a girlfriend who can’t take her clothes off in front of him, he’s stuck with one who can’t finish either. you can’t imagine how frustrating that must be.

“why are you even still here?” you sniffle, feeling his body stiffen behind you. “this can’t be fun for you.”

he doesn’t answer you, instead moving from his position behind you to roll you onto your back before he slots himself between your thick thighs. and even in the dark of his room you can see how your words have upset him.

“— i’m here because i love you.” he asserts, calloused fingers catching your chin to keep your gaze level with his. “i stay despite how much you continually try to push me away, because you’re everything to me.”

and he catches some more tears that trickle down your cheeks with his thumb. he unintentionally swipes them over your lips and they taste almost bitter on your tongue when you take a shuddering breath in.

“i just.. i feel like this is too good to be true— that you’re too good to be true.” you voice is barely above a whisper now, “that once you see everything… you’ll change your mind.”

his eyes slip shut and an almost painful look crosses over his features.

“baby,” he sighs, carefully taking your hand to guide it up his bare torso. you can feel the uneven flesh beneath your fingertips, a reminder that you almost lost him not so long ago. “you could grow a third head and sprout a tail and i would love you just the same.”

that image has you giggling softly, the sound causing his eyes to flutter back open. eddie grins down at you, bringing your hand up to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“there’s my girl,” he hums.

and despite the worry that still lingers in the back of your head, your body automatically reacts to his gentle words. you shift your hips beneath his own, now acutely aware of how uncomfortable the damp cotton feels against your skin.

eddie can see that spark of need return to your eyes, his head tilting down to nudge your nose with his own. he inhales your soft gasp when he carefully presses his hips down into yours.

“can i try something? if you don’t like it, i promise we can stop.”

he waits before making another move, lips hovering over yours until he hears your soft confirmation. then he starts to descend lower.

his lips press against the cotton of your sleep shirt, across the soft pudge of your belly. and you hold you breath when his fingers graze over the hem of it, slowly beginning to push it up your plush thighs.

“eddie i—”

he must hear the alarm in your voice as he stops, warm eyes gazing up at you from where he’s positioned between your legs.

“do you want me to stop?” he asks.

the small shake of your head encourages him to continue, pushing the shirt up only until he can see the outline of your panties.

“we’ll keep this on, okay?” he motions to your shirt.

“okay,” you breathe.

you feel your body is on fire, every nerve ending like a live wire. and you practically jolt when you feel his lips press against your damp underwear, his tongue licking a slow stripe between your clothed folds.

“oh,” you sigh and you can feel his deep chuckle rumble against your core.

so he does it again, enjoying the breathy whine that tumbles past your lips. eddie’s fingers slide up your thighs, sneaking underneath the elastic of your underwear as he continues his actions. going slow enough to get you used to the feeling, but firm enough so you feel each drag of his tongue.

after your first failed attempt from earlier you feel ravenous, now bucking your hips up against his mouth. and your boyfriend seems to get the hint.

“you want them off, sweetheart?”

and you nod almost frantically, any feelings of insecurity pushed to the wayside as your desire slams back into you at full force.

not needing to be told again, eddie carefully guides the fabric down your thighs. tossing them next to you on the bed before he coaxes your legs to rest on his shoulders. even in the dark he can see the curly hairs that cover your mound and the sticky strings of desire when he guides your folds apart with his fingers.

you hear a soft curse leave his mouth, his hair tickling your inner thighs when he leans down further to guide his tongue through your slick.

“so fuckin’ pretty, baby.” he coos.

you gasp aloud at the sensation when the muscle delves deeper, dipping inside your entrance before dragging more slick up to your sensitive nub.

everything feels more heightened like this— more intimate. and you swear you’re more in love with him now than you ever been.

so you let your body sink further into the mattress while he tastes you properly for the first time. his own hips rutting against the bed in tandem with each glide of his tongue. the noises he’s making are downright filthy, the vibrations only aiding in bringing you closer to that release.

it’s right within your grasp, all you have to do is reach out and take it.

the edges of your vision start to blur while your fingers card themselves through his curls to hold him in place. and that wave that’s been building up inside you finally crashes over the surface.

your shaky cry of his name has him moaning into you, his hips twitching as he spills into the fabric of his boxers. and he doesn’t mind when your trembling thighs tighten around his head, keeping him locked into place between your hips.

not that eddie would ever complain.

you finally release him when the feeling becomes too much, thighs settling onto the bed when you tug at his curls. he lifts his head then, eyes mirroring your half lidded gaze. his slick-smeared lips shine in the moonlight that streams through his bedroom window and you feel another rush of emotion flow through you.

“thank you,” you whisper, voice cracking.

he brings your knuckles back to his lips, pressing a wet kiss onto each one. satisfied with his work, eddie crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses until he reaches your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer when your mouth do meet.

but that’s when you feel it. the warm, sticky mess that has soaked into his boxers and smeared across his hairy thighs.

“did you just— ?” you ask in almost disbelief, wide eyes meeting his own when he pulls back to give you a cheeky grin.

another gentle roll of his hips has you gasping aloud, the action pressing his mess further into your own as he chuckles deeply.

“damn right, i did.”

[sadesluvr]

Doctor's Orders - S. Raglan x Reader x M. Schmidt

You and Mike are having intimacy issues, and Dr Raglan is the best couples therapist in town.

A/N: Pure filth and nothing more. This might be the dirtiest fic I've ever made...Minors DNI

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: Threesomes / Cuckolding / Dom + Sub dynamics / Age gaps – Steve is in his 50’s, Reader and Mike are in their mid 20s / Hints of manipulation / Abuse of power / Oral sex, fem and male receiving / Breeding / Humiliation / Overstimulation / Sex rivalry / Unprotected sex  / Dirty talk

Dr Raglan was a renowned couples therapist in your town, which was why you were so eager to see him with your boyfriend Mike. Even though you’d been together for a while, when it came to sex you’d found that he had trouble staying ‘up’, and even reaching orgasm. He insisted it wasn’t you, but the egotistical part of you worried that you weren’t enough.

Still, you would’ve never guessed that, upon hearing your issues, the doctor would’ve been gracious to extend the session by another hour, free of charge. It slightly worried you that your issues were apparently that bad, but you took it anyway.

“I like you two,” Steve said. “A lot, actually. I’m very happy to help you out,”

He wasn’t lying. He’d been lusting over you for the whole session, his cock growing hard at how desperate you were to get through to Mike, even willing to do the work on your part. You were such a sweet, attentive little girlfriend, and yet Mike seemed like a total loser. Utterly powerless.

The pair of you were still sitting down as he got up, walking around to stand behind you and place his large hands on your shoulders. He smirked as Mike looked at him, ready to argue, whilst you seemed uncomfortable.

“I’m going to use Y/N here as an example,” he said, instructing you to stand up. He didn’t even bother to ask for your permission - you were nothing but a toy. A toy and a tool to be fucked. It was going to help your issues, after all. 

You stood up, and he cupped a finger under your chin so that you looked into his eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“Strip,” he said, and your eyes grew wide.

“Y/N, don’t  —“ Mike interjected, sticking out a hand defensively, but Steve stopped him.

“That’s your problem, Mike. Stop trying to be the hero,” he said forcefully. You hesitated before squeezing Michael’s hand and beginning to undress. You loved Mike more than anything, and wanted to move towards the next stage of your relationship. 

Mr Raglan knew best.

As you undressed, you noticed a visible bulge in Steve’s pants, and Mike, though quiet, seemed to be developing one too, but hid it with his hands. Their eyes were filled with lust, and Dr Raglan seemed to hum with approval as he took in your semi-nude body as you assumed your position on top of his desk.

You were undressed all for him; naive and exposed to what was about to come. 

He was ready to fucking consume you.

But he had to be professional.

“You see, your intimacy problem has nothing to do with her, and everything with you,” he said, pointing at Mike. “She’s such a cute little thing with a body just begging bred. Any man would be lucky to have her…And yet you can’t appreciate something good. Why is that?”

Steve smirked as he saw your legs twitch at the mention of breeding, and he looked between the pair of you knowingly. Mike seemed unresponsive, whilst you were like a deer in headlights.

“You’re building it up too much. You keep thinking things are going to be mind-blowing, and that you’re going to be the best she’s ever had, but in actuality it’ll probably be average. You need to learn to live with being disempowered,”

You glanced over worriedly at Mike. Perhaps the loss of his brother was the root of the deeper issue?

“Has he touched you here?” Steve said, his large hands reaching to massage your breasts. His hands were cold whilst your chest was warm, causing your nipples to harden against his touch. The older man chuckled, rolling the bud against his fingers before he tugged them, showing them off to your boyfriend. He’d barely done anything, and you were responding to him so well.

“Y-Yes…” 

“Do you usually get turned on so quickly?”

“I’m not—“ you protested, trying to ignore the growing heat between your thighs. “—It’s just because your hands are cold,”

“Sure. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said mockingly. “How about you have your boyfriend come warm you up?”

You looked over pleadingly at Michael and he obliged, getting up to place his hand on your other breast, but not without giving Dr Raglan a side eye, to which the older man brushed off. You stared up at them with glassy eyes as they fondled your breasts, with Mike’s touch more gentle compared to Steve’s pawing. You weren’t oblivious to Raglan’s now hardened bulge either, as he pressed his groin into the bare skin of your knee, teasing you with what was to come.

“Doesn’t look like you’re doing a good job there, Mike,” he said matter of factly. “Unsurprising, considering everything I know about you. Let me show you how to take care of business,” 

His bigger frame pushed Mike to the side, and you could see him clench his fists in frustration. Steve stared down at you hungrily, one of his hands sliding past your breast to grab the base of your neck; squeezing it ever so slightly as his other hand made its way to your panties. He spread your legs so that you were on display, his thick fingers rubbing against your slit through the material. 

“I bet I can make her cum just from my hands…” he said, staring down at Mike who remained in his seat. As much as he hated watching a perverted older man like Raglan touch you, part of him was actually enjoying it. He knew you were hot, and to see someone making you feel as sexy and liberated as you deserved made him feel good in turn. Perhaps the Doctor was right - he needed to be comfortable feeling powerless.

“You said you’ve tried oral sex, correct?” Steve said, clearing his throat. You looked up at him and nodded shyly, and he tutted.

“I want you to say it,” he insisted, briefly removing his hands from your panties. “Tell me what you do to him,”

“Um —“ you said, flustered from the sudden loss of pressure. “I touch him through his pants first. He’s usually hard then, so I take it out — I don’t suck him off immediately, I like to keep it going with my hands…” 

Steve began to unbuckle his belt before pulling down his zipper and taking out his cock through the hole, beginning to stroke it lazily as you droned on about trying to please your boyfriend. He was aching to see you in all the degrading positions you’d put yourself in for Mike’s benefit (to no success), even more so at the prospect of being in front of him. 

“Show me,” Steve groaned, positioning his cock towards your face. “Give me everything you’ve been craving,”

You abided by his words and stroked him, moaning as he resumed his motions on top of your panties. He was bigger than Mike, and you could feel him throb in your hands with every tug, desperate to penetrate your lips. You remained like this for a moment before the older man pushed your panties to the side, the cool hair sending shivers down your hot cunt. Steve greedily pushed two of his lithe fingers inside of you, grunting at the sensation as he felt the insides of your thigh on his arms, grazing his hairs ever so slightly.

“She’s fucking dripping,” he laughed, staring Mike in the eye. “She feels so good down here. I wonder how her mouth feels —“ he stated, and angled your head around his cock. You took it in your mouth instinctively, eyes widening in shock as he hit the back of your throat unexpectedly. Steve was almost completely feral; wasting no time in thrusting deeper into your mouth whilst his fingers explored your fold, making sure to rub your clit.

“—Like heaven,” he purred, and it was as if something deeper had arisen within him. “Don’t be shy Mike. You should get in on this,” he teased, giving the younger man all but two seconds before focusing back onto you. You were mewling and writhing under his power, and if he were a teenager he probably would’ve cum right there and then. Luckily for him, he was a man now.

Mike obeyed, and quietly made his way between your legs, watching in awe at the way your juices coated the man’s fingers. It looked heavenly; and it killed him to think he was missing out. All he ever wanted to do was please you.

He unzipped his trousers, freeing his cock so that he could touch himself. He inched towards your spread pussy, one hand on his cock and the other keeping your panties out of the way and practically dived in, eagerly lapping at your folds, causing Steve to hum in amusement.

The sensation was painfully overwhelming, with Steve’s fingers now rubbing at your hood, and Mike’s lips licking and sucking on your insides. It was beyond pornographic, and you wondered whether this was genuinely helpful or just a self-serving ruse. 

“Ugh,” you moaned, and pushed Mike’s head deeper into you, prompting yet another reaction from Steve.

“Seems like he can do something well, hm? I suppose this is the part where everything goes to shit?”

“For your information, I never said I couldn’t make her cum,” Mike snapped, staring daggers into Steve as he momentarily drew himself away from your cunt. 

“I’ll admit –” he began, stopping to groan as he began thrusting faster into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing around his cock and nose repeatedly making contact with his pants, “--That’s impressive, but it’s child’s play. You’re a child, Mike. She needs a real man…” 

Even though it was wrong, your pussy twitched around Mike as the pair bickered; using your body like a ragdoll. You weren’t a person to them, but a vessel, and it was sparking something within Mike that you hadn’t seen, licking along your folds and up towards your clit, flicking his tongue upon the nub as two fingers pumped into you. All he’d needed was a bit of ‘friendly’ competition.

“Mike —” you whimpered against Steve’s cock. “I’m gonna —”

“Get off her, Mike,” Steve commanded, and the younger man obeyed, his frustration growing deeper. The Dr drew himself from your face, leaving a trail of spit against your swollen lips.

“That’s not how this is going to go –” he stated, guiding your body so that you were spread flat on top of his desk, your legs dangling off of the sides. Steve towered above you, and even though Mike was in the room you felt like a shrew underneath his predatory gaze, waiting to be devoured. You stared up at him with wide eyes, and you almost came as he smiled down at you, a large, calloused hand rubbing along the sides of your body, spreading your cunt effortlessly with two fingers and admiring the mess you’d made.

“--I’m gonna fuck her, and you’re gonna watch. Got it?” he said forcefully, staring Mike down. “Don’t try to save her, Mike. She doesn’t need saving. Let it go,”

Mike nodded, and Steve barely gave you any time to react before he thrust into you, practically gasping at the hot, wet sensation against his aching cock. His grip on your legs were firm, slinging them around his waist so that he had full control over you, relishing in the sight of your breasts moving with every motion, and your mouth agape as he filled you up. Mike was stroking himself, his face flushed as he watched you intently, completely inebriated on oxytocin. There were no sympathetic smiles or gentle hugs when he couldn’t ‘perform’, but a different person entirely - the sex goddess you deserved to be. It was dirty, and so very wrong, but he was enjoying every moment.

Steve’s thrusts were getting faster now, to the point that you could feel his thighs slap against your own, much more his heavy balls against your aching pussy, causing the desk to creak. His eyes darkened as one hand made its way to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly as his cock seemed to hit at you from every angle.

“You like this, hmm?” he cooed, a large smirk wiped across his face. “Getting fucked by an older man whilst your mess of a boyfriend watches? He can’t make you moan like I do, huh?” 

You could barely answer, but managed to shake your head.

“Hm, you’re pretty fucked up, aren’t you? I think you and I should have a little private session n’ work some of those issues through…”

You moaned louder, and Steve let out a gleeful cackle before looking over at Mike, who was in a daze. 

“I consider myself a fair guy. Get over here,” he gestured to him, and once he was there you took Mike’s cock in your mouth, helping him finish what had been started. He threw his head back as you eagerly licked and sucked on his tip, using your hands to stroke his base and steady him in your mouth. 

You’d reached complete overstimulation; and you could feel a familiar heat pooling in your stomach, your body instinctively beginning to grind itself on Steve’s cock. Mike drew himself deeper into your mouth, briefly making you choke at his desperate motions, and Steve placed his hands onto your hips, holding you down and beginning to fuck you mercilessly.

“Touch her,” he ordered, and Mike began rubbing your pussy in circles, adding to the unfathomable feeling. “Feel how much she’s trembling because of me. She’s such a slut, you know that? You might own her heart, but I own her pussy – Fuck – She’s perfect...”

The sound of his throaty voice made you unravel, and you threw your head back as you came, desperately pulling Mike into a kiss as you did. It was euphoric, made all the more otherworldly when Steve said a certain few words:

“I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up real good, like a real man does. Didn’t you see the way she begged and moaned for me? Our pretty little fucktoy —”

He came with a loud groan and his glasses almost slid off of his face as he lurched forward whilst his fingers left marks on your skin as he held you down to pump his hot, heavy seed into your aching hole. You were both sweaty, and you felt your eyes flutter shut from the exhaustion. As Steve rode off his high he drew his hips back, watching his seed slowly drip out of you and onto his desk. 

Smirking, he caught his breath before walking over to assume Mike’s position at your mouth, looking down at him expectedly.

“It’s your turn. I hope you don’t mind the mess I’ve made,”

@dij-ology

[werecreature-addicted]

been thinking about incubi lately and been thinking about a gentleman incubus and a down on her luck reader with the dating scene. she's best friends with the incubus and he appreciates that he's not seen as a living sex toy but as a genuine person but gets frustrated that his one sided crush isn't noticed after some time. He invites her to dinner at his place to relax and things heat up after he gets tired of hearing her whine about if she's the problem b/c no she's not the issue she just hasn't noticed him is all. she's chasing after boys when there's a perfect man-or beast if she prefers- waiting to ravish her like a queen 🌹

He wonders how oblivious one human can be. do you really think all incubi lay around naked in other people's homes? He sees the way your eyes drop to his half-hard cock, come on don't be shy just take him already.

He's a master of seduction, of course, he is, he's seduction given physical form, and he knows all the little tricks of the trade and ways to make humans crumble, although if he's honest, this is the first time he's had so much trouble. Most humans would be on their hands and knees begging to suck his cock by now, but not you, stubborn thing you are.

He would be fine just being your friend if that's what you really wanted, He can smell your desire for him, and taste your eagerness in the air. Your lust is so fragrant it's almost painful. It kills him to watch you go on those disappointing dates with human men when he's right here begging to satisfy your needs.

If nothing else, it's a new problem. Normally he has the opposite issue, of people assuming they have a right to his body just because he's a sex demon, it is nice that you see him for more than that. but he craves more. he wants intimacy, a relationship, and yes, sex. and He knows you feel the same way. but he can wait. he's nothing if not persistent

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

I love the way you write Logan, it's so comforting! Can't wait to see more of your work, it's lovely💗

Idk if this would be your thing so feel free to ignore obviously!

How do you think Logan's dynamic would be with a reader having intense intimacy issues, to the point where they struggle to even think about doing anything more than make out with him? I really haven't found any fic like that and I think that you would a concept like that more than justice

I do see him having some intimacy issues himself (traumatized wet cat💀)

this is so sweet, thank you so much! My brain immediately supplied a list of head canons, I hope that you enjoy <3

~ So I am thinking about Logan from the original trilogy for these in particular ~ He definitely has some intimacy issues, more so on the emotional intimacy side than physical intimacy ~That is, until he meets you. You're a professor at the school, and while he can tell you love the young mutants with a large part of your heart, you remain physically distant from them. When the Youngers ones reach for a hug, you meet them instead with a fist bump or a high five. Never cruel, but always setting your boundary. ~The first time you catch him noticing your habit, you expect him to roll his eyes, or hit you with a judgy side eye. Instead, he quirks his head and resumes what he had previously been doing. ~Eventually, the two of you start spending a lot more time together. He will nudge a cup of coffee your way, and ask after you when you have a headache. He never encroaches on your space, despite being quite touchy with the other faculty.

~You spend a week working up the courage to confront him about it, strategizing the best way to ask for the reassurance you want but have trouble asking for. You expect him to blow you off, but when you knock on his door, he ushers you inside and lets you choose where to sit in the room, choosing his seat to be close enough to show he is invested but far enough away for your comfort. It isn't even a conscious thought for him, it's natural. ~You fumble through your question, doing your best to explain your line of thinking, before eventually just spitting out "do you hate me?" ~He is so shocked that he doesn't know what to say for a few seconds, which only makes your anxiety feel worse. ~He takes a few seconds, collecting his thoughts, and then you can see the typical Logan smirk start sparkling in his eye again. "Sweetheart, it's a little hard to hate the person you're acting a fool over". Your eyes practically bug out of your skull, and he chuckles to himself. He is twitching in his seat, and you can tell he is trying his best to not gather you up in his arms. ~You extend a hand out to him, palm upturned. He takes it instantly. He raises your entwined hands halfway towards his mouth, before meeting your eyes and waiting for your reaction. ~You nod, holding your breath and he drops a kiss on the back of your hand, before adjusting so that he can kiss your palm as well. ~When he hears your heartbeat stutter, he is quick to hold your hand again, resting against his knee. He confirms that you feel the same way, insistent on getting verbal confirmation. Your face feels like it is on fire, but you reply in the affirmative. "We are going to take this as slow as you need. I... I care about you so much, and your comfort always comes before anything else." ~You feel a few tears well up, and he moves to wipe them away as they begin to fall. Again, he pauses before actually making contact with your face, waiting for your gentle nod. ~From that day on, you are even more attached at the hip than before. Logan loves knowing that you are with him for more than his body, and he is constantly making sure that you know how much he values you. ~Overall, I just imagine him being very sweet and understanding and taking it as slow as you need. He is protective of you when you meet new people, often coming in between you and others who are not as considerate as he thinks they should be. Definitely sends his protective instincts into a bit of an overdrive, but you also appreciate having the scary dog privilege when you are out in public as well. People are definitely giving you a wider berth than you are used to. You always feels safe and taken care of with him, which is exactly how he wants it to be

[carnelianly]

brief warning! this post has mentions of dubcon!

sometimes i think about how screenplay art had issues getting it up and how patrick represented desire to tashi because she always had art’s devotion but he lost more and more passion for his sport and his relationship with his wife every day. so if he were in a similar situation with you….

i think about sometimes how art craves physical intimacy even when he shies away from emotional or mental intimacy. he wants to be close to you even though he doesn’t want to open up about the things that are bothering him and he retreats inside of his head, keeping emotions tightly held to his chest.

he wants to hold you on the couch and caress your skin even at the most emotionally distant points of your relationship. to him, letting you keep the physical parts of him is vulnerability, even if he refuses to let you have the other pieces of him.

art’s composed, arrogant persona is chipped at little by little as time passes, his softer, weaker side rearing its ugly head. art hates to be reminded of the fact that he owes you his healthy body, he owes you his maximum effort, and he owes you his devotion.

he puts his head in your lap as a desperate plea to reconcile to him that you still love him. despite the fact that your condition-based love has made him even more deeply insecure, he clings to you. to leave you would be to betray himself. so he lets you destroy his ego until there is no art left.

he’s not against having sex, clearly, but he has trouble getting in the mood and staying there, mostly because it feels so often that you try to initiate when he’s at his most emotionally weakest. and you know that. you know that his kisses when he feels like he has to repent for sinning against you are reverent but not desirable. he kisses with devotion but not passion.

he cries in your arms, kissing you with sobs buried in his throat and tears dripping down his cheeks, sometimes smudging onto yours. you pull at his shirt like you want to unravel him and see his soul bare, but sex is the last thing on his mind when he’s kissing you, begging you not to leave him like this.

you want. you want. always what you want. art will be crying and kissing you sweetly like his life depends on it, and you’re kissing back with too much energy, too much force and passion and art tries to contain it, to cut you off, but you always get your way when it comes to art.

it’s only once you realize what’s happening, that despite the fact that he so obviously is trying for you, you can tell he doesn’t really want to do this. you could keep going, could demand every last thing you want from him, but you know he’d only be doing it to please you. so you let his head fall into your lap and you run your fingers through his hair like the pet you know you’ll have to put down.

- P♡

[rreskk]

HEADCANONS: Fem!reader in a relationship with the Holy Trinity

MICHAEL DE SANTA – - “Ah, I’m sorry honey. The movies on.” His love language depends on how much quality time interferes with his own interests. While it may seem neglecting, you’ll come to understand that he’s in his own world. And he makes up by gifting you presents – unwanted or not – trying to reamend the many times he’s bailed on dates, etc. - He may have been a charming man at first, but being in a relationship with Michael really highlights his unfamiliarity with intimacy and connection. He’ll find it hard to communicate his wants due to that barrier between short-term desire and long-term love. You’re usually the one to make a move and give him a foundation to build his trust on. - Michael loves to be glamoured with your compliments and praises. One time he bought a new suit and showed you. After commenting on how handsome he looked, it encouraged him to dive deeper, attempting to drink and eat healthier products but also wear more fitting outfits. You make him look more presentable as you provide support and comfort. - He is a father! When dating a father, here comes responsibilities like parenting advice, and what NOT to say. You’ve experienced how dysfunctional he is. Michael knows he’s a troubling father and he listens to your advice – to an extent. He’ll mostly always add a little twist that completely destroys the meaning of your words, but it’s the consideration that counts. And maybe the tearfulness of his children after. And you annoyance because he dismissed your advice. But hey, that’s Michael! - “You’re dating a movie producer, honey.” Michael will always find a way to be prideful. In all cases where you find a flaw, he’ll shrug it off by mentioning how successful he is (in these flaws), making it sound like a good thing by paradox-ing whatever the hell he’s done – whether that’s criminality or being a selfish ass. -Surprisingly vanilla in the bedroom department. The typical rose petals on the bed and his infamous boxer shorts for when sexy time does occur. Though vanilla, it’s charming because it’s Michael. It’s more bonding he focusses on. Because he’s a bit estranged romantically, he tries to ensure sexual activity is maintained. - He invites you into this nostalgic journey. Allowing him to reminisce really brightens his mood. Even more if you engage and ask questions. It may boost his ego, but he’ll assume you are genuinely interested. - Out of the trio, due to his maturity (even that?) and experience, he’s the most likely to keep you out of the criminality, and so he should! Michael protects you from any dangers and will seclude you from his own issues.

TREVOR PHILIPS – - “What do you mean you were busy?” The most clingiest. He’s very dependant when you earn his trust. Everything has to be outwardly expressed, whether that’s a doctors appointment or Jerry from down the road talking about his heater breaking. Trevor won’t even be interested but he’ll feel safe knowing due to his trust issues. You may get interrogated a lot when you forget to tell him certain things, but if you apologise MEANINGFULLY, he’ll forgive you. Maybe… (The grudge stays there though). - He does carry this intense aura around him and it gets a bit uncomfortable. Trevor has got something constantly making him angry or sad, so you’ll have to deal with this baggage, even if that’s listening to him rant or holding him – as requested. It’s better to say nothing because if you try and be rational, he’ll assume you are devaluing his feelings. - “Why are you closing the door? Leave it open. Ain’t no one here except me.” Trevor does not understand privacy and boundaries. You could be going to the bathroom or wanting time to yourself and he’ll demand you leave the door open. For no reason. He just like hearing you shuffle around. It makes him feel less alone and more safe. However, it can be annoying for you since you are forced to deal with his smell and intensive clinginess. - Very touchy and physical. Trevor has a high sex-drive and will crave bedroom time A LOT. From quickies to a passionate 3 session afternoon which leaves you both gasping for water and the bible. He does make you feel loved though. Not an inch of your skin has been left cold. He has touched you all. One way or another… - Unfortunately includes you in his drama a lot. Trevor doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, let alone his impulses. And he gets into situations all the time. You are either a target of revenge or a cover-up. No in between. SOS babe, you’re in some trouble.

FRANKLIN CLINTON – - He treasures normality out of them all. Franklin craves a normal relationship where you do your own thing, and he does too. Independence is key. However, sometimes you’ll wonder why he hasn’t messaged in days after he left the house last Tuesday. It can strain a bit of your relationship as you don’t share much details about your everyday life, so you have no idea about the activities he gets up to. Vise versa. - “You need a ride out?” Franklin is also observant though. He sees you getting ready and offers you a ride. He sees you looking for something, offers to look. He sees you frustrated, he offers a solution. Despite being the youngest, he’s got a heart of gold towards  the people he loves. - You don’t have to prove your self-worth by being sexually active. Franklin is open-minded enough to understand boundaries and feelings. Just because you’re distant that day doesn’t mean you hate him, and he knows that. Just because you haven’t been sexually active in the past month doesn’t mean you hate him, he knows that too. - Franklin tries to keep you out of his business but sometimes information slips. He can trust the wrong people and get into some trouble, causing you to be a target of revenge. He tries to be private but he’ll talk to people he’ll deem “trustworthy”, and sometimes they can be the wrong people. - Takes you out a lot in dates. You’ll visit new diners, movies, bars, discos. Whatever. Franklin loves quality time and will ensure you are taken out every week. That’s how he bonds. You can share memories and moments together, whether that’s funny memories or romantic, or maybe sad. He finds value in everything. - The people he surround himself with can strain the relationship. Criminals and gangsters. He’ll invite strange people home and you’ll have to deal with their antiques. Franklin shrugs it off as it’s “business”, but you’ll always find the strangers invading your personal space and privacy. Dangerous strangers as well. It puts you on edge.

[ilovefictionalcuntymen]

Calcharo sfw and nsfw head cannons because I’m fucking down bad for this man pt. 2

[AFAB Reader]

Go here for pt. 1

Sfw

• for your first date he spent days to plan it. He never did any of that stuff, so he had no clue on what to do, but he wanted it to be perfect. He asked a few of his close ghost hounds for relationship advice and on what type of stuff women like. So in the end he settled for a cozy picknick near the coast, along with sandwiches he made himself (he wouldn’t even believe himself if he ever told his past self that) and a bouquet of flowers he brought for you.

• When you’re on your period and act more grumpy, he gets all confused like a lost puppy. Sometimes you just snap at him for something that’s not a big deal because the whole day just pissed you off. Whenever that happens, he just stares at you stoically, wondering why you were so upset. Then he remembers what time of the month it is (cute boy nows all of your schedule from memory) and figures you’re just a bit sensitive. He tries to not annoy you, but doesn’t exactly talk about it except for maybe asking if you need anything. Showing too much affection is kind of awkward for him, so he just tries to make you the least amount of trouble to make you feel better.

• He secretly does things behind your back to help you out. For example repairing things you mentioned, but never telling you that he did. Like when you were bummed about your broken camera and the next day it sat all fixed on your desk. He‘s not exactly hiding it, he knows that you know it’s him who does all that, but he just doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. He only wants to make you happy in his free time, it’s not something he expects praise for. But you still thank him and pepper him with kisses anyway.

• Is usually the nonchalant and easy going type, but still has his possessive moments. Calcharo doesn’t mind what clothes you’re wearing and doesn’t get all insecure when a guy looks at you. But sometimes when you’re in presence of some other men, he lazily puts his arm on your hip or he pulls you in and lets you rest against his chest while you sit at a bonfire with your teammates. He just likes the feeling of knowing you’re his.

• Gets rarely flustered. He’s like a stone brick sometimes. He also blurts out the most out of pocket stuff that would usually have others think twice before saying it. But ever since he met you, he catches himself blush way more often than usual. It’s not often, but a lot more than it used to be (which means never)

• Because he’s so hardened up from all the fighting and travelling around, Calcharo tends to appear detached and insensitive. Sometimes you get upset over something that’s completely reasonable, but he can’t understand you because for him it’s not a big deal. It definitely does lead to moments were he hurts you without meaning to and him being stubborn in some aspects, because he never sees any issues in the things you’re upset about. But when he sees that it seriously upsets you, he’ll try to avoid it from happening again.

• Take bubble baths with him. Seriously. He might seem like this stoic guy that wouldn’t enjoy childish things, but he can relax from time to time. And what’s more relaxing than taking a bath? With bubbles. Don’t forget the bubbles. It’s fun throwing them at him. He’ll just huff while he leans back and watch your childish antics with the bubbles. And of course there’ll be lots of cuddling and lots of kisses.

Nsfw

• He loves placing kisses all over your body during intimacy. Whenever you’re done with your session, you‘ll have love bites on your collarbone, chest, thighs, calves, shoulder blades, back, neck and anything there is. One of his favourite things to do is kiss his way down from your lips to your core, leaving behind a trail of hickeys all the while looking up to you with those mesmerising eyes. He really doesn’t know how much power simple eye contact has over you, especially when he looks at you with those half lidded eyes full of want and love.

• he‘ll often hold your hand while he eats you out, interlacing your fingers and rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

• Doesn’t masturbate. He just doesn’t have the time or the need to indulge in such things. Whenever you’re away, he doesn’t get that needy because he just busies himself with work.

• When you go down on him, he tries to remain composed. Even with his low sexual drive, he still is a man and seeing you struggling with fitting his length in your mouth really has him holding back a lot. His breath will turn ragged and he has to keep his hands by his side, because if he ware to put them on your head he would probably grab you by your hair and push you all the way down and continuously bop your head in a way he is afraid might hurt you. So like the nice guy he is, he just keeps his hands at his sides, forced to be merely a spectator.

• Sit on this mfs face. He won’t mind one bit. Please sit on him with your whole weight. He’ll notice if you don’t and will feel offended by it. He would ask you nicely to just do as he says but you’re to afraid of suffocating him. He’ll give you a hard look before pulling you down, forcing you to sit with all your weight and showing you he could handle it.

• When you sit on his face, his nose big nose will keep bumping against your clit

• When you’re in cowgirl position, more times than not it just results in him effortlessly lifting you up and down, making you bounce in his cock without you even having to put in any work

• He used to be pretty awkward when it came to aftercare. He wanted to have you be comfortable, but he didn’t want to cross any boundaries either. He was just very new to this whole relationship thing, but as time passed he got more confident and became an aftercare god. He notices everything about you and remembers the littlest things. At the end of the night you’re always comfortably tugged into bed, all clean with all your necessities taken care of.

• Enjoys cockwarming a lot. He doesn’t feel the need to get freaky all the time, sometimes he just enjoys having you on his lap, his cock snuggled inside your warm walls. He’ll caress you while he does so, his hands striving over your waist and hips, all the way down to your thighs while he focuses on some paperwork because this guy can’t catch a break for some reason.

———————————————————————

Love ya’ll stay safe <3

Me when Calcharo:

[ovaryacted]

I had a shit ton of ideas about fuckboy!Leon since I saw the fanart made by @glacierclear a while ago, so I decided to write some blurbs about him because I'm obsessed. (At 1.1k words mind you) It gets angsty the further you read.

So, in a world where Leon was able to make the mistakes any young adult would, what would him being a fuckboy look like?

Fuckboy!Leon is a dickhead, a borderline asshole. It’s not entirely intentional, but that’s just the person he is, more so the person he’s become over the years. A literal walking red flag and isn’t ashamed about it, nor does he try to hide it. He’s a walking shitstorm, everyone knows that, and he wears it like a badge with a shit-eating grin on his pretty face.

Fuckboy!Leon whose aesthetic involves black painted nails, eyeliner, and piercings all over his face, more punk than anything, with a slight tinge of jock but that’s only on occasion. He still remembers when he went to a dingy tattoo parlor at 17 with a fake ID after some beers, getting his nipple pierced as a dare from Chris. That was his gateway into the piercing world, going back to do the other nipple to match, followed by some on his ear and now a tongue bar he likes to flash around.

Fuckboy!Leon is a known frat boy and party go-er. You’ll probably find him near the keg drinking straight out of the tap, or playing beer pong as an excuse to drink more. He’s also a social smoker, if there’s weed around from a friend of his, he’ll take a hit or two of a joint just because he could. Despite him being a party animal, he’s actually really smart. A high academic achiever, top of his class and enjoys reading. He just comes off as such a nonchalant douchebag nobody seems to care to ask him about school.

Fuckboy!Leon is an impulsive mess. He’s always getting himself into some shit, whether it be fights or arguments, or being defiant with authority. He just doesn’t give a shit about the rules or labels, thinking it’s all overrated. He’s hotheaded, stubborn, and thinks he knows everything. His ego paired with that vulgar mouth of his constantly gets him in trouble. 

Fuckboy!Leon who is a flirt, a cocky one at that. He doesn’t pay any mind about how he’s perceived, being too annoyed with people as a whole to really give a shit what others think of him. A cornball at heart, he’d have signature one-liners that would make some people roll their eyes, and others drool at the mouth. Most of the time they’ll do the job, but sometimes just sometimes, he’ll get that rejection that he’ll brush off as if it were nothing. Only he’ll think about it for the next few days and try again to remedy that rejection by asking that person again on a shitty date. It doesn’t work.

Fuckboy!Leon who has the reputation of a whore on campus. Everyone knows about him, about what he does or can do in any given setting. You’ve heard of the stories passing by the halls, both girls and guys talking about how well his mouth is and what he does with his hands. Not to mention, how he’s certainly not shy about what he’s carrying. So his ego matches his attitude given that he has a reason to be cocky in the first place.

Fuckboy!Leon who has commitment issues and doesn’t do relationships, much less anything regarding any establishment of intimacy. He doesn’t want the stress of dealing with feelings and actively avoids situations that involve them. All he wants or looks for, are people who are willing to give him a good time, no more and no less. Though as much as he frequently deprives himself of that, there are times when he craves affection from another person. He shuts those ideas down with a quick shot of cheap tequila or some weed, whichever works faster.

Fuckboy!Leon that has this façade of not giving a fuck about himself or other people. That didn’t happen naturally. He used to be the guy who was constantly looking out for others, being reliable, and always saving people while nobody fought to save him. That version of himself died after being hurt one too many times, building an emotional wall that was impenetrable and would protect him from being wounded again. Nobody could hurt him so long as he didn’t let them get too close. 

Fuckboy!Leon who has abandonment issues and is scared of intimacy. He’s been left alone and forgotten by the same people who said they cared about him. The last thing Leon wants is to try to mend the pieces of himself after someone was finished using him. So he doesn’t invest in people or personal relationships outside of friendship. He learned a long time ago that if he keeps people at a distance, they can’t hurt him.

Fuckboy!Leon is insecure to a degree. It’s not that he doesn’t think he’s attractive, he is and he knows that and uses it to his advantage. But he oversexualizes himself because he thinks that’s the only way people would want him, the only way he can get people's attention. All this does for him is make him question his self-worth constantly, and doubt whether or not anyone views him as a human being instead of someone expendable. 

Fuckboy!Leon who constantly self-sabotages because he doesn’t think he’s good enough for happiness or love. On top of the trust issues he has, he feels that once he has something going for him, he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’ll find a way to mess things up for himself to get the result he’s used to having. Leon doesn’t want to risk being in a position of vulnerability, so instead he’ll hurt the other person before they get the chance to do it to him first.

Fuckboy!Leon who despite the trauma he buries and usually dismisses, all he really wants is someone to care enough about him to want him in their life. He was always there when people needed him but when it was time for him to need help there was nobody in his corner to support him. He wishes that for once, someone cared enough to fight for him instead.

Fuckboy!Leon who underneath that cocky, irritating, and emotionally-detached persona is someone that wants to be loved. He’s so certain he isn’t worthy of that and thinks nobody would be willing to try for him. He thinks he’s hard to love, that it’s all rotten work. He’s a douche sure, but he’s a sweetheart underneath, one that is too scared to come out. All Leon needs is someone ready to give him a chance, and with a lot of patience and guidance, it will be something so fulfilling that the way he’s viewed by other people and himself will change for the better.

I'm totally not thinking of writing a fanfic about this but shhh.

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

[fantasylandblues]

modern lucemond fics have had a real chokehold on me for a while so here's my attempt at a lucemond college au! (wanted to include some minor jacegon at some point but still dont know how's that gonna go lol.) this turned into a whole ass drabble but just hear me out (and pls be nice!!!):

Lucerys Velaryon (22) is an undergrad student majoring in ocean studies. Aemond Targaryen (26) is getting his post-grad in modern-age westerosi politics at the same institution, the Crownlands College of King's Landing, Westeros, of valyrian tradition.

in his free time, Lucerys takes theatre lessons at school. he has a scholarship and makes the best of it, although he wouldn't consider himself to be particularly bright (he also has some trouble focusing). he walks with the determination of someone who's got places to be, though maybe that's just to appear stronger or more confident than he actually is. Luce's got a somewhat tall build now, but years of being undermined by his peers have worn down his shoulders and his joyful, boyish appearence.

his older brother, Jacaerys (24), is the one who got him into theatre in the first place, although Jace now pursues his passion for the martial arts, teaching children and teenagers alike. he's known for being short tempered among his friends and family, but is as good with those kids as he once was with his little brother during their formative years. they currently share a two bedroom apartment and often hang out at their neighbors', Baela and Rhaena's, sisters who sometimes feel like perfect female versions of them.

Aemond lives alone, but often meets up with his confidant and cool sister Helaena (27) at the campus restaurant. Helaena is an English professor there at Crownlands with a passion for teaching medieval histories. she has the study of biology as her main hobby and is often seen carrying a book or two on entomology which she borrows from the library on her free time.

it's not uncommon to catch Aemond at the olympic pool well past everyone's school hours, swimming focusedly as a way to clear his mind. he comes from a somewhat influent family, the Targaryens, and knows he will soon be introduced to the actual world of westerosi politics, so he gets to focus all of his energy on his studies and training, almost as if striving to achieve the best version of himself. back home, he cares for his pet lizard, Vhagar - named after the goddess of war in valyrian mythology, a name only his sister could come up with.

he's lost his eye and gained that terrible scar in a scrap with his brother many years ago, which needless to say went too far. he remembers seeing Aegon with their father's letter opener in hand, and then waking up in the hospital to his mother's worried eyes. there are days in which he proudly wears unnatural, dark-colored prosthetics, and days in which he just puts in a clear one and patches it up.

his brother Aegon (29) works remotely as a manager in their grandfather's company, a job he doesn't particularly like but was left with no choice but to take. he is still recovering from the car accident that left him paralysed from the waist down and with severe burns along his body. with his little daughter by his side, he's been dealing with this new life surprisingly well, as well as finding a new joy for parenting.

despite being bitter for years on end, Aemond could no longer hold a grudge against him after the terrible accident. they have been finding ways to remedy their relationship ever since.

beloved by his colleagues, Lucerys is easy to talk to, somewhat extroverted and ballsy, even, although he would rather shield from too much intimacy. being gay is an issue he thinks he's got handled, thank you very much, if that means getting with guys in seedy corners and never bringing that up in conversation. people know, of course, but it bothers Jace that he's never ever heard a mention of a special name.

that day, he strides out of the school's pool bathrooms with the uneasiness that's left in the bottom of his stomach after one of those types of encounters. a few swimmers are packing their stuff up for the day, and he looks just so out of place in his jeans and t-shirt.

Aemond knows confidently what he wants, yet is hard to approach for those who haven't earned his trust, and would very much like to mantain that hardened image. but it doesn't bother him that he craves like a human being, that he craves small and he craves grabbable, just enough to leave small bruises where his hands have been, and he would definitely benefit from fisting a handful of those brown locks he's just laid eyes upon. or maybe he shouldn't be thinking that while clad in nothing but tight swim attire.

let me know if this is anything! my askbox is wide open baby~

[the-old-mayhem]

I know that when you see the word girl or girlfriend you normally ignore the questions (you can not answer if you don't want to) however this is one of the many doubts I have about his personality, it's a genuine doubt, it's not to bother and I say it respectfully, why Pelle avoided that topic so much? It is likely that he has not even had a girlfriend, he even avoided interactions with women, and I mean in adolescence and youth it is especially common to be interested in a partner or girls, totally normal.

You probably won't answer me, but you actually didn't specify what kind of "doubts" do you have about his personality, in relation to this lack of women in his life?

Do you have doubts that he was asexual? Gay? Something else?

To answer you- I think, when it comes to Pelle, that people in general tend to overcomplicate things. Cotard instead of some other, more probable mental illness.

Asexuality instead of simply being withdrawn and insecure.

Occam's razor. The simplest explanation is usually the best one.

He was socially awkward and we know it. He had massive social anxiety, couldn't even talk to the social security woman. He was introverted. He didn't speak in the presence of unknown people. He had trouble maintaining eye contact. He was secretive. Those are all FACTS that we know about him.

So, the explanation for this women-related question is probably the simplest one. Being insecure, afraid of girls, afraid of rejection, afraid of intimacy, having body image issues - all these possibilities are far more likely than him being asexual or gay or any other exotic explanation as to why he didn't have women around.

[whitehotwild]

OKAY!!! so these are the ex!butcher x reader/OC(?) x logan headcanons/sort of a prologue/brief outline of the story!

AN: PLEASE let me know if you'd rather read a 'x reader' story or an ‘OC x reader’ story!!!!

OKAY!!! so this will read like a canon divergence AU (aurbviously).

Butcher was never on the brink of fucking DYING from temp v, he never killed Victoria and he never got powers.

BUT he is spiraling, that mean part of his brain (kessler) has just sort of taken over and made him kinda lose grip on what actually matters, Butcher wants everyone with powers dead, but especially Homelander.

(I’ve kinda been thinking about actually making this post Homelander death, and THEN Butcher spirals way way way out of control wanting basically a superhuman genocide, let me know what you think about that)

ALSO, Supes and Mutants exist as two separate things in this universe. Supes came after Mutants because Frederick Vought realized that these superpowered beings could be capitalized upon, but he knew if he used mutants they might end up rebelling, so going about making his own Superhumans was a safer option in his mind. Mutants are born, Supes are made.

Mutants distance themselves from Supes, knowing they usually end up being more trouble than they’re worth.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters does not accept Supe students, they did for a while at the very beginning, but Charles quickly realized that, for whatever reason, Supes and Mutants just do not get along on most occasions.

OKAY!!! SO NOW THAT THE GEEK TALK IS DONE, HERE’S THE STORY DETAILS

You/OC were a college intern at Vought that Homelander had his sights set on. He sort of coerced you into a relationship/situationship that lasted for about a year and was quite was toxic (bc like… it’s homelander).

While that went on Butcher knew of you bc of how obsessively he kept tabs on HL.

Butcher was planning on killing you to hurt HL, but then when he realized things had ended he knew you’d be more use to him alive than dead.

you were recruited to The Boys around the same time as Hughie, maybe a bit before.

you and Butcher don’t get together until after Becca dies, at first you’re really just mostly a object of comfort and escape for him, it’s way more serious for you than it is for him.

very Casual by Chappel Roan vibes

very Sharpest Tool by Sabrina Carpenter vibes

BUT the longer you stick around the more genuinely attached Butcher gets

There’s this sweet spot from almost a year in to a few months before the end of your relationship, it lasts about 2 years itself, you and Butcher are together for nearly 3 years.

during that sweet spot Butcher starts meaning it when he says "i love you"

near the end of those 3 years is when Butcher starts to become utterly obsessed with the whole “taking down homelander/supe genocide” thing.

he gets meaner, not to you specifically, just in general. he’s less affectionate, doesn’t spend as much time with you, only really initiates intimacy when he wants it, otherwise kinda brushes off your advances.

anytime you try to bring up these issues or his recent behavior you’re quickly shut down with a firm, “Let it be, love.”

you start spending more time away from the apartment, outside of work you try to fill your time with either hanging out with friends or going to the bar.

one night, you’re out with Annie and a few of your other friends at a little dive bar uptown.

you wanna play pool but none of your friends want to play, annie suggests you just go ask someone.

you’re a few drinks deep, not enough to make you drunk, just enough to instill a nice coat of confidence around you.

so, you see this man sitting at the bar, leather jacket draped over the back of his barstool, a cigar in one hand, a glass of what you assume is probably whiskey sitting in front of him, and you have no problem going up to him.

you ask him if he wants to play a game with you, and at first he tries to shoo you off, but unfortunately for him, you’re persistent.

there’s an instant connection between the you and the man, who you learned is called Logan.

he tries to ignore whatever nice feelings you spark up inside him, he’s got this lone wolf thing going on and he doesn’t need you, this pretty young thing, coming along and ruining it for him… is what he tells himself.

you promised him at first that it would only be one game, but after he beat you, you demanded a rematch, and by the end of the night you had played at least a few games.

you say your goodbyes and Logan assumes he’ll never see you again because that’s just the way things go. he tries to ignore the soft pang of disappointment in him, brushing it off as one of those rare occurences where he actually does feel a bit lonely… he’d never say that out loud.

you come back at the same time exactly a week later, this time by yourself, after a long week of dealing with the brick wall Butcher has put between the two of you.

Logan tries to ignore the way his heartbeat picks up just a bit when he sees you, he’s almost a bit annoyed that you came back, he was just starting to shake the memory of you that he couldn’t seem to forget like how he can the others.

you play pool again and open up to each other, even if it’s just the slightest bit.

this becomes a weekly occurrence, you and logan become “friends” (more so acquaintances that hang out once a week only at the bar for a few hours).

ANYWAYS!!! i’m gonna stop here so i don’t just write the whole story in bullet format, but this is the basic outline of the first bit of the story. literally only gonna write this if people actually want to read something like this, and it’ll also take me a while because i’m in the process of moving SO, pleathe be patient for i am just a little guy.

[subskz]

Who in skz will be sad that you don't like giving oral and who are ok with it? Maybe if you're just the type to kiss all over it as you give them a handjob but never take it in your mouth or sometimes suck on just the tip just to tease them even it's not your biggest interest who in skz will beg for more and who is mlt like it this way

-💙

oh this is a fun question!! i listed them in the order of most to least <3

seungmin - he doesn’t mind at all! i think seungmo would already be kinda awkward abt receiving head sometimes, he just can’t really shake the feeling that it’s so dirty of him to ask that of you; having your mouth on his most intimate spot and hearing his body make all those embarrassing wet noises. even when it feels amazing, his fretting over whether his taste and hygeine are okay for you might make it a lil harder for him to enjoy it fully anyway, so he’s perfectly fine not receiving it. he’d much rather do smth you both take pleasure in

chan - channie is 100% ready to accept it! he’d be a bit sad bc he admittedly loves the feeling of ur mouth around him, it makes his brain melt faster than anything else and gets the sweetest sounds out of him. but he also feels kinda shy and guilty abt asking for head in general. he’s a big giver at heart who cares abt pleasing you first, so he’s pretty content w you not being into it! it’s far more important to him that you’d actually like it. pressing playful kisses to his dick while jerking him off would make him sooo weak and giggly, he’d be the cutest mess if u did

lino - if you’re not giving head, and he’s not giving head…then who’s flying the plane? hehe but as spoiled as lino might pretend to be, he has a love/hate relationship w receiving oral bc it’s one of the most vulnerable positions he could be in. being completely at the mercy of your tongue and teeth makes it impossible for him to stay composed and it embarrasses him how fast he crumbles. so if it’s not smth you take much pleasure in, he’d have no issue w you not going down on him! he’s secretly very willing to give you head instead…this man loves to use his mouth

felix - i think lix is pretty easygoing when it comes to sex, he’s just happy getting to experience it w you. a lot of the time he’s so eager for u to try new things on him that he isn’t even thinking that much abt whether or not you’d give him oral. he might be a lil sad bc…he likes to he pampered a bit hehe. it feels really good and he loves the intimacy of it but he also wouldn’t dream of asking you for it if you’re not interested. there’s plenty of other ways for you to feel good together! like channie, i think he’d go crazy for u pressing little kisses to his dick to tease him

jeongin - innie is a simple boy…if it feels good, he likes it! there’s lots of reasons why oral feels so good to him, it makes him so pliant so fast and nothing thrills him like you pushing his hips down to still him when he squirms under your mouth. but he’s another one who’s kinda shy abt receiving oral…a lot of the time he’d be hiding behind his hands or having trouble fully relaxing bc he’s so self-conscious abt whether or not you’re enjoying it too. as much as he might crave it, knowing that it’s not smth you’re super into is enough for him to be okay without it

binnie - he is a bit sadder than most of the other boys bc he admittedly goes crazy for the feeling, there’s just smth even more mind-numbing to him abt the control you have over your mouth and tongue when giving him head. sweet binnie is also quite the giver though, he really loves pleasing you and hearing your praises when he does well, so he’d never be truly upset abt not being on the receiving end of pleasure. he might shyly ask you if you could suck on the tip while stroking his dick, just to add those lil addictive bursts of pleasure that make him cum extra fast

hyunjin - hyune is a very passionate lover!! he’s not selfish by any means, but he can be very needy when he fully lets go w you, very desperate to feel you in every way. i think he’d be the most likely to get a bit insecure abt you not being interested in giving oral. he might worry that it’s bc there’s smth wrong w him, that you don’t want to be intimate w him, all kinds of silly thoughts like that. he’d need reassurance that it’s got nothing to do w him, it’s simply not smth you’re that into in general. he’ll be a lil wistful at first bc his romantic heart wants that mutual adoration, but he’d feel much worse asking for smth ur not very interested in, so he doesn’t beg too much for it

jisung - poor hannie…he’s a bit heartbroken. i think he’d love receiving head the most out of all the boys, sometimes he needs it even more than being inside you. he tries not to be greedy but he can’t help but feel so desperate to have your mouth around him, he’s not above begging for it. he’d never want to guilt you though, as whiny as he can be, he fully understands why it’s not your thing and feels a lil pathetic for wanting it so badly. he’d be so grateful if you would tease him a bit w your mouth when giving him a handjob, esp if you wrapped your lips around his dick right when he’s abt to cum and kissed his release back into his mouth <3

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

With a kiss we will paint a flawless view (part 1)

Dracule Mihawk x reader. This is part one of two. NSFW!!

This fic is dedicated to @madbadpadawan. 

This fic is part of the Beast in Black series, and the sequel of Come close and whisper my true name.

*****

“Something is troubling you.” your lover murmurs as he turns to kiss your naked shoulder; you smile, forcing yourself to hide the stab of pain those words have evoked in your heart, an unpleasant interruption in such a pleasant afternoon.

“I’m fine, Mihawk.”

“That was not a question, and you are not.”

Silence returns between the two of you, barely stirred by the gentle murmuring of the waves. What remains of your picnic lays on the blanket in front of you; Mihawk sits by your side, his left hand resting on the sand behind him, his lovely yellow eyes only apparently focused on the sun setting on the horizon. He doesn’t insist to know more, he doesn’t point out that this morning he has seen you stare out of the window for almost an hour, silent and unmoving, lost in who knows what sad reflection, nor does he mention the vague, impalpable but persistent melancholy he has perceived around you for the last month at least. He remains silent, content to sip the content of his glass (his favourite red wine, that you have bought and brought especially for this occasion) as the breeze plays with his dark hair. 

It’s not like he doesn’t care; nothing could be further from the truth. You’ve been together for years, and while Mihawk is not the most effusive of men, you know well how much you mean to him, how much he cares about your physical and mental well-being, and that he wants a future with you. Whatever problem or worry you may be dealing with, you know your partner will listen to you, respect it, and do his best to help you overcome it, just like you would do for him; on the other hand he respects your privacy and desire for independence, and the last thing he wants is to treat you as if you were a child who needed an adult to protect and decide for her. 

I don’t demand to know what you’re going through, but if you want to tell me, I’m here; this is what he’s telling you, without the need to utter a single word, and you love him for it; this is not an issue he, or anyone for that matter, can help you with, and lingering on it means wasting the time you are spending with your lover, but no matter how stupid and pointless it is, you can’t stop thinking about it…

“I have entered menopause.” you confess in the end, actually feeling as if you were sharing a crime you had committed rather than a natural, albeit untimely, development all women go through sooner or later. Mihawk, who clearly wasn’t expecting something like that (and how could he?) turns to look at you.

“You’re too young for that, surely?”

“Not necessarily; my mother was only two years older than me when it happened to her, and my grandmother had it early as well. I haven’t had my period for at least two months and I did think the last one I had was unusually light and short, so…”

Silence falls again; a minute later Mihawk’s glass has been placed back on the tray and his arm has circled your waist, holding you close to his body.

“What did your doctor say?” he asks softly; his gaze is now turned in your direction but now you are the one avoiding him, despite the love and intimacy you share too ashamed and embarrassed to face his reaction.

“I haven’t told him. I’ll mention it on my next routine visit in two months, but there’s no need really, I’ve just been feeling a little tired, but thank all the Gods the women of my family don’t usually experience hot flashes…”

“(name).”

You rest your cheek against his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m being stupid, aren’t I?”

“You know I could never consider you stupid; and being a man I am completely unqualified to judge what you’re feeling, even if I wanted to.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It is stupid, because I was almost sure it would happen soon and my period has been nothing but a nuisance for years, but…”

“But?”

“I hate it.” you admit as you finally turn to look at him “I hate myself, and I hate my body, as if it had betrayed me. It doesn’t make sense, because I already knew I couldn’t have children and I know I’m still young, but… I feel old and weak and… and useless. I feel empty.”

You you hate crying, especially when there is someone there to witness your tears, and as a matter of fact you’re not crying now, but you still hide your face against Mihawk’s chest as he embraces you, holding your body (your pathetic, inadequate, withered body) as if you were something precious and delicate he wanted to protect.

“I’m sorry.” he murmurs; you’re close enough you can perceive his scent, slightly sour and deliciously masculine, but even that can’t make you feel better in the state you’re in “I hate seeing you in pain. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Don’t; I’m just emotional, I should get a grip instead of wasting our time together whining.”

“The time we spend together is never wasted; and since your body is changing it’s perfectly normal if your mind reacts to it.”

He holds you close, peppering kisses on your hair and brow as he murmurs your name, and in the end, almost reflexively, you feel your body abandon itself in your lover’s embrace, tension leaving your muscles and bones even though grief lingers. 

“Do you love me, Mihawk?” you ask in the end, lifting your gaze to meet his; all of a sudden you feel unworthy of his love, well aware that what you share could never change simply because you won’t be bleeding four days every twenty-eight anymore, but the most fragile part of you feels he would deserve better - a younger, healthier woman, capable of giving him the child you both wanted.

“I do.” Mihawk murmurs; he presses his forehead against yours, holding you as if he never wants to let you go “I always have, and always will, until my last breath. I promise.”

You remain locked in an embrace as you both observe the sun setting beyond the horizon; your lover holds you close as you listen to his quiet, steady heartbeat. Neither feels the need to talk, or to move; to worry, to feel sad, is completely impossible when the two of you are together.

*

A couple hours later Mihawk receives a call from the Marines HQ - an interruption during your time together your lover appreciates as much as an invasion of locusts. Alone in the kitchen as you wash the dishes and glasses you used for your picnic, you distantly hear your lover talk, and then argue, and finally almost shout, over the Den Den Mushi; you wait until he has ended the call, and then you join your lover in his bedroom, carrying two cups of his favourite tea.

“Bad news?” you ask as you offer him a cup that your lover, now sitting on the bed, accepts with a nod of thanks, his expression still sombre.

“I’m afraid so; the Marines need me, and the other Warlords, for a mission in the Shima Peninsula.” 

“That’s pretty far away.”

“I’m aware; there is a war going on in the area, that the Marines unsurprisingly can’t put an end to it by themselves.” Mihawk explains; he seems pensive, even worried, which surprises you, since your lover, almost physically unable to feel fear, is usually dismissive of or even bored by the missions the Marines entrust to him “I read about it in the paper, it’s quite a complicated situation. I might have to remain there for weeks, even months.”

Ah; so that is what he was worried about. “Well.” you murmur, careful not to spill your tea as you go sit on his lap “I don’t need to tell you I will miss you…”

“And I you. (name)... I’ll probably be asked not to use a Den Den Mushi while I remain in the area, for security reasons; I might not even be able to write to you.”

“... oh.”

It’s worse than you expected. While you and your lover are both adult, independent people, each with important duties that occupy your time and who don’t even live together, you have always kept regularly in contact, both by letter and Den Den Mushi, and are used to meet each other regularly, either on your island, on Kuraigana or in some other place you decided to visit together. To remain apart, to be unable to call and write to your lover and to hear from him, for weeks and even months, sounds honestly unbearable; but refusing the call of the World Government will bring nothing but troubles for Mihawk, you reflect as you sip your tea, especially if this task in Shima is especially important.

“You need to go.” you murmur in the end, resting your back against his chest “I know you don’t like being ordered around by the World Government, but if you refuse there might be… repercussions.”

Mihawk sneers. “You think I’m afraid of them?”

“Of course you’re not, but it can’t be a bad thing to keep the Marines happy; at the very least, if you help them with this task they’ll leave you alone for a while afterwards… and you can come visit me for a few days.”

You bat your eyelashes at your lover, who looks at you, more amused than he lets on. “On second thought, I might decide to remain on Shima for a while after my mission is over.”

“Oh, you are horrible…”

Mihawk grins; you see him take a longer sip of his tea before placing the cup on his bedside table. “I’ll have to make sure no one else sees me shift.” he considers, which immediately turns you serious. Only six months have passed since you shared your gift with your lover, and while he has already learned to control it seamlessly, turning in a werewolf on command and avoiding doing it when he mustn’t, like all of you he can’t help shifting on full moon nights - an easy situation to manage when one lives on an otherwise deserted island, but that might represent a problem if he’ll be surrounded by Marine soldiers and officers, especially considering that while werewolves are mostly considered the stuff of legend, the World Government never formally abrogated an ancient law that ordered them to be killed on sight. 

“I have put you in danger.” you murmur, immediately alarmed, which your lover resolutely denies shaking his head.

“You haven’t; I knew the risks when I asked you to turn me.” he points out “It’s only one night every twenty-eight; I’ll find a way to shift without anyone seeing me.” 

“I hope so. Bring the draught I prepared for you, will you? You have learnt to control the shifting faster than any adult I know, but you never know when you might need it.”

“I promise.”

“Good. You need to go soon, don’t you?”

The barest trace of guilt visible in your lover’s eyes is answer enough. “I’m expected at the Marines HQ tomorrow at sundown at the latest; which means I’ll have to depart in the morning.” Mihawk points out softly “I’m sorry, (name); I know it wasn’t easy for you to carve out a few days for us.”

It wasn’t, and it’s so frustrating it makes you want to scream - not against Mihawk, of course, and not against the Marines either; you felt better, lighter, after sharing the matter of your menopause with your lover and being comforted and reassured of his love for you, and now fate conspires against you both, separating you from Mihawk when you need him the most, after a single day spent together.

Sometimes you wonder if your lover will ever decide to come live with you on your island; no matter how content and satisfied you both are with your current situation, this would allow you to spend as much time together as you want, or at least, considering your duties towards your people and his as a pirate and a member of the Seven Warlords, you wouldn’t have to plan any single meeting in advance and then sail for almost a whole day, since you’d be sleeping in the same bed and dining at the same table. It would make things much easier, and you know your lover misses you as much as you miss him when you’re apart. On the other hand, you can’t move with him, since you’ll one day be expected to become the ruler of your island after your mother, so it would be hypocritical of you to ask him to pack his things. You have talked about it several times, and you don’t want to rush Mihawk into something he doesn’t feel ready for; you know he loves you, and that wherever he goes, no matter how far away he’ll be, he’ll always return to you. That is enough; it has to be.

“I’ll miss you.” Mihawk murmurs, exactly as you considered the same sentiment in your heart. You smile, and 

“Well, I hope so.” you murmur; a moment later your tea, by now gone cold in the still half-full cup, is placed on the bedside table next to his, and you’ve turned in your lover’s embrace, straddling his thighs with your arms now resting on his shoulders. Mihawk grins despite himself, his hands rising from your waist to gently, possessively cup your breast. Recently it feels oddly tender, and heavy, you reflect vaguely; since you are obviously no longer a growing girl, it’s probably a side effect of the menopause.  

For once in the last three months, you’re able to quickly banish the unpleasant thought from your mind, as you look at Mihawk under your eyelashes, innocently resting your hand very high on his thigh as if to stabilise yourself “Maybe I should go, let you rest tonight so that you’ll be at full strength when you’ll have to sail tomorrow…”

“You’re fooling no one, (name).”

“I really don’t know what you mean. Let me go, I’ll sleep in one of the empty bedrooms…”

Your mouth meets his in a soft peck, seemingly chaste if not for the quick dart of your tongue against his bottom lip, before you start to stand from his lap; Mihawk growls, and his arms cage you against his chest as he turns on the bed, pushing you under him.

“Seriously, darling, I was worried for your health and this is how you repay me?”

“Oh, I’m gonna repay you alright…” 

Your lover grins as he looks at you, still caged between his legs, and at the enticing view of your chest rising and falling in rhythm with your breathing; a moment later he has lifted your skirt, exposing your body from your waist up. He slips his hand under your underskirt, his fingers brushing over your flesh, and for a moment it feels different - softer, somehow, and more prominent, as if you had gained weight, even though not to the point one could notice just looking at you. Mihawk vaguely wonders if there’s a specific reason; you’ve always been a lover of good food but not someone who overeats, and it should be easy for you to keep in shape, given your active lifestyle and the time you spend regularly in your fortress’ small gymnasium. Perhaps the recent development, and the grief and shame it filled your heart with, led you to seek comfort in eating…

“Is something wrong?” you ask, unaware of your lover’s thoughts, and he hurries to shake his head; one doesn’t need to be an expert on women to know that telling one’s partner she has gotten fat would hardly please her, especially while her body is already a source of shame and grief for her, and he doesn’t want you to think he finds you less desirable now that you’ve gained a few pounds. 

Because he doesn’t. At all.

“Nothing. I was just reflecting on how… appetising you look.”

You smile, unashamedly flattered. “I’m not a food you can eat, Mihawk.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to devour you.”

“Hmm, you surely talk a good game…”

Your kisses chase each other as you take care of your clothes; you make quick work of Mihawk’s shirt and pants, while he spends a few minutes unsuccessfully struggling with the lacing of your dress before giving up with a frustrated sigh. “It’s worse than a chastity belt!”

“I’m sorry, my seamstress insisted it was more elegant than a zipper…”

“Clearly your seamstress wants you to wear this dress for the rest of your life.” Mihawk mutters; then, with a grin, he helps you lie on the bed and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder “Then I suppose I’ll have to fuck you while you’re still wearing it.”

A moment later your panties and underskirt are lying on the floor, and you sigh as your lover’s hard cock penetrates you; after so many years you’re like a lock and the key made to open it and he knows what you can handle without feeling too much pain, but he’s still gentle, still patient and attentive, as he fills you and then slowly starts to move. He hated seeing you suffer, especially because yours was not the sort of grief one could process rationally either by yourself or thanks to the support of your loved ones; he could swear and insist your menopause makes no difference for him, that you’re still beautiful and strong and clever, a desirable partner and a talented bounty hunter, and it wouldn’t necessarily help. He knows you have to deal with the changes of your body on your own, and that you can, and that you will; you don’t need to be protected, or reminded that your value as a person and as a woman has nothing to do with your menstrual cycle, if you are in pain, no matter how unfounded or inconsequential, and he would give his blood to make it go away…

How can he survive weeks, even months, without you? Without even hearing from you, and the reassurance you’re alright and still thinking about him? He’s not afraid you could look at other men, and he knows you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but he’s already regretting the mission he accepted taking part in. He misses you already; and he knows he’s going to regret every single day you don’t spend together. 

He holds you in his arms as he changes position once more, fucking you against the matress as he stands on the side of the bed, your legs locked around his hips. He can feel you claw at his back, possessive and even hungry for him, and he loves it, pain and pleasure mixed in such an arousing paroxysm of desire; every inch of him, flesh and bone and blood, his body and his mind and his soul, are vibrating with you, so close he can no longer perceive where he ends and you begin. He never thought it was possible to feel like this, or at least that he would one day experience such a perfect astonishment; but for once in his life, Dracule Mihawk is happy to admit he was wrong.

You share a smile, soft and intimate, as he pounds against you, his pushes deeper and more forceful as he feels your warmth enveloping him. Just like this, darling, you murmur, gazing adoringly at him, and oh, you’re so big and strong, and it feels good, so good, to know he’s taking care of your needs, fucking you nice and well, better than any other man ever could. 

Mihawk hears you pant his name, the warmth of your body as enticing now as it was on your first time. “I love you.” you murmur; he smiles, and kisses you once more.

“Promise you’ll wait for me.” he tells you “Promise me, (name).”

“I promise I will wait for you till the end of time.”

*

Mihawk has never been in the Shima peninsula before. A nice place, he has been told, a once popular holiday destination famous for the production of precious fabrics and the vast quantities of gold hidden in the depths of its mines; nevertheless, he only needs to take a look at Shima to know he’s going to hate it.

It’s not because the country has been ravaged by war for almost a decade now; while the chaos and destruction wreaked by the invading army he and the other Warlords have been sent to oppose don’t leave him completely indifferent, he has seen plenty of scenes like that in his life, plenty of death and grief and devastation, and is now able to put some distance between him and the slaughtering taking place all around.  

What frustrates him, and makes him regret ever saying yes when Garp called to request his help, is that he is doing nothing, spending most of his time twiddling his thumbs as days and weeks and months go by without the conflict moving a single step closer to resolution. 

The situation is delicate, the Marines commander at the head of the whole operation -Mihawk hasn’t bothered to learn his name- tells them; the country whose army has invaded Shima is not affiliated to the World Government, but the authorities still hope for a peaceful resolution, which means they cannot simply send their armies, or the Warlords, to cut down the enemy troops. The two contingents are on standby, their encampments separated by a quarter of a mile of no man’s land; emissaries and ambassadors meet regularly, they argue and threaten and beg, and occasionally either Mihawk or one of his peers is sent to wreak havoc through enemy lines, or to face the paladins the opposing generals have sent to convince them to retreat. Neither party is able, or even fully willing, to best the other; they prefer to wait, hoping to wear the other party down or for some internal development that forces the enemy to withdraw.

If Mihawk thought he had known boredom in the years since he had last faced an opponent worthy of fighting him, it is nothing compared to those four months of inertia; he keeps busy training, and reading whatever paper and book he can put his hands on, but the encampment is barely large enough for a brief walk to stretch his legs, and he’s not the sort of man capable of making friends easily, not even if the alternative is dying of accidie.  

Lying on his bed in the tent he shares with three of his fellow Warlords, he stares at the ceiling wondering what (name) is doing at that moment, whether she is sitting in the fortress’ audience chamber next to her mother or is preparing for a stakeout, her faithful derringer already aimed at the back of the head of the unsuspecting victim. He knows in his heart that wherever she is, his partner is thinking about him, hoping to see him return soon, but that is not enough; he has never missed her so terribly, her presence and her smile and the sound of her voice and, why deny it?, the warmth of her soft body as she lays naked in his embrace. He thinks back to that time Shanks told him he could still perceive the presence of his missing arm, years after he had lost it; what he feels now is at least partially similar, the lack of a part of him (not a limb, but a person who has become too important and precious for him to feel whole without her) becoming more painful, and frustrating, with each passing day. They have never been apart for so long since they became lovers, but that’s not all: there’s another reason, something Mihawk couldn’t explain but that is too intense to deny or dismiss it: the sensation that his lover needs him, but not because she’s in danger, or saddened and in need of comfort. Something is happening to her, something important that concerns him as well, and he should be there to share it with her…

The most maddening thing is that he has no way to know for sure. Even though he is busy for, on average, maybe two hours per week, he has been forbidden to leave the peninsula, even for a few days only, in the event that a sudden emergency arises and the Marines need their strongest allies to fight their battles for them, which means he is virtually prisoner on Shima, kept idle but not allowed to make use that wasted time. Many are unhappy with that situation, especially the other Warlords, who protest they haven’t accepted the alliance with the Marines to be kept in the backlines, but even their complaints fall on deaf ears.

If only he were allowed to at least communicate with the outside, but Den Den Mushi have been rendered unusable on the whole peninsula, in order to block transmissions between the invading army and its king; even the Marines commander receives his orders via carrier bird. Mihawk has sent a letter to (name) every time he had the opportunity, but he’s uncertain they will reach their destination, and even less hopeful he’ll be able to receive a response. At least, (name) will learn he’s still alive from the papers, which will ease her worries; still, there is nothing he wouldn’t give to hear her voice, or at least to read a letter in her elegant handwriting, for the first time in so long…

As his lover expected, the full moon nights are the trickiest, and the most dangerous, given how hard it is to find the necessary privacy to shift in an encampment inhabited by hundreds of people who must remain in the dark regarding his secret. Mihawk shifts for the first time nineteen days after his arrival on Shima; he has no way of knowing, but on that very day (name) has requested a visit from the fortress’ doctor after a sudden, violent bout of nausea as she woke up. He’s already feeling the pull of the rising moon as he slips out of the tent and then of the encampment, almost running towards the flat stretch of countryside that separates it from the closest town; a wood would have been better, the presence of trees and preys to hunt a more appropriate place for the wolf to run and feel at home, but at least he doesn’t run the risk of stumbling on some unsuspecting Marine recruit who had stepped out to relieve himself. He leaves his clothes behind a boulder and stands, stretching his muscles as he feels the moon’s soft light bathing his skin. The wolf has already raised its head inside him, ready to take over, and Mihawk lets him, the by now familiar sensation of fur covering his back and his bones changing shape enveloping him. A few minutes, and the large black wolf has taken his place; he chases after a few terrified mice, more to stretch his legs than because he’s hungry, and then he lays in an uncultivated field, looking at the moon above and thinking about his mate, who must have shifted as well but who is far away, too far from his howling to reach her.

The stalemate has been dragging for four months when one day Mihawk, and by coincidence the other Warlords as well, suddenly decides he has wasted enough time as it is. After a brief discussion, they march out of the encampment, deaf to the Marines asking and then ordering (as if!) them to stop, cross the unclaimed strip of desert separating them from the enemy, and swoop down on the invading army. To their credit, the invading troops are quick to react, their soldiers immediately falling in formation to oppose the small but deadly band of pirates. Mihawk has warned his fellow Warlords not to stand in his way, but beyond that he doesn’t care what they do, like he is completely indifferent to the opponents he finds on his path; he wields Yoru as he makes his way through the enemy lines, destroying anyone who is unfortunate enough to face him, nameless men and women who fall around him like sheaves of wheat cut by a scythe. A few swordsmen try to oppose him, and whether they’re driven by patriotism or thirst for glory, none of them is able to land a single blow on him; he’s no longer a wolf, but his ferocity, his ruthlessness and thirst for blood are characteristics any predator would approve of.

The unsanctioned assault is as quick as it is deadly; dawn has barely raised when the 

Marines’ commander is called out of his tent, and finds himself face to face with the severed heads of the enemy’s generals thrown at his feet, their respective next in lines bound and gagged behind them, ready to concede defeat and beg for a peace accord, in order to avoid another bloodshed. 

The commander is highly disgruntled, since the Warlords acted of their own accord, without seeking permission and defying every order they had been given, but those seven did in less than two hours what the Marines couldn’t in six months. He has no choice but to accept the enemy’s surrender, begin the peace negotiations, and write to the Fleet Admiral to inform him of the latest developments. 

The Warlords depart, mostly confident the Marines can take it from here and there is no longer need of their services, once again without asking for permission. Mihawk has not been at home in four months, and his last bath dates back to then; part of him is unhappy he’s going to present himself to his lover in that state, but he knows that she would never forgive him if he lingered for such an inconsequential reason, even for just an hour more.

He wastes no time with good-byes; he retrieves his bag from the tent and reaches his ship at the harbour, where a favourable wind is blowing. Mihawk is soon leaving the Shima peninsula behind him, without looking back and hoping he will never have to set foot on that blasted place again.

*

“My lady?”

“...”

“Please wake up, my lady…”

“Hmm… no…”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, my lady, but you really need to wake up…” 

“For the Gods’ sake! Am I not allowed even a moment of rest?” you exclaim as you finally open your eyes; it’s not like you to react so impatiently, even and especially if the person talking to you is one of the servants, but the nights you have slept soundly in the last four months have been far and between, and naps like the one you had been taking on the sofa in your study (a new piece of furniture, that you had moved there especially for occasions like this) have literally saved you from going insane, and being forced to wake up feels like torture “I just wanted to sleep a little…”

“Forgive us my lady, but…” the two men in livery in front of you share a glance, suddenly unsure they’ve done the right thing deciding to disturb your sleep “Lord Mihawk is back.”

For a moment you fear you’re still dreaming. “... what?” you ask as you struggle to move into a seated position, your movements made clumsier by the added weight on your belly “Are you sure?”

“We’ve been informed his ship has docked at the harbour; the portmaster offered to call the fortress to have a carriage sent for him, but he preferred to borrow a horse to save time. He should be here in a few minutes. What would you have us do?”

“I…”

You bite your lip as you stand, your hand immediately rising to hold your belly, a habit you have gotten into ever since you learnt of your pregnancy, as if fearing even the most careful movement could put your baby in danger, and the presence of your arm were enough to shield them. It’s illogical, you know it well; but given the upheaval your life has experienced in the last four months, you might be forgiven if at certain moments rationality escapes you…

Your pregnancy. Your baby. Three months have passed since the doctors confirmed what you had already started suspecting but didn’t dare believe, and you still struggle to convince yourself that it’s true. You’re pregnant, and you’re gonna have a baby… your lover’s baby, a son or a daughter, who you have conceived together during one of your many nights -and mornings, and afternoons…- together, and who grows in your belly, becoming heavier by the day. A normal, perfectly natural development, that millions of women all over the world experience every year, but that you never expected might concern you, not after what happened on that terrible night so many years ago, when you lost both your father and your child. You had been assured getting pregnant again would be impossible, and in fact it never happened, nor when you still slept around hoping to give an heir to your feud, nor in the following years, despite the -err- very passionate relationship you share with your lover. 

And you thought you had entered menopause, and were sad because of it! How foolish you have been, especially considering this is not your first pregnancy, but how could you imagine it, so many years after you had ordered yourself to stop trying, to stop hoping, and to resign yourself to never becoming a mother?

You have been visited by the most capable and experienced doctors of the kingdom, and none of them has been able to explain it. It’s nothing short of a miracle, my lady, one of them has commented as he washed his hands after examining you, and you thought that maybe you didn’t need to know how, but only to be reassured that it was true, that it had happened, and it had happened to you.

And now this. Mihawk is back, which you did expect, just not yet; you have read about the end of the conflict on the Shima peninsula in yesterday’s paper, but while the pictures showing your lover safe and sound, and victorious, made you heave a sigh of relief, you expected him to be busy for a while longer before he could come back. But years after you became lovers Mihawk is still able to surprise you… just like you’re gonna undoubtedly surprise him, when your lover sees the state you are in. 

The servants are still looking at you, patiently waiting for your orders. You sigh, rubbing your eyes as if that were enough to clear your mind. “Forgive me, that was discourteous of me.” you apologise “Please take care of lord Mihawk’s needs when he arrives; I’ll be waiting for him here.”

“Very well, my lady.”

They bow out; now alone, suddenly nervous as if you had not been as close as it’s humanly possible for two people to be for years, and even though you have every reason to think he’ll be happy to hear about the baby, you consider the possibility of changing your dress, or to move to the adjoining bathroom to check your hair and make up, before realising nothing of it is necessary - not from you, not with him. With nothing else to do apart from waiting, you sigh and sit back once more, both of your hands resting on your belly as you stare at the room’s door and wait to see it open. 

Mihawk’s heart is pounding as he climbs the steps that lead to (name)’s apartment, alone, no longer needing to be accompanied as he walks through the fortress he by now knows as well as his residence on Kuraigana. As he reaches the floor he stops, feeling suddenly… Insecure? Shy? Anxious?

It is odd, first of all because those terms have been banned from his vocabulary ever since he was a teenager, and equally important, because this is (name), his (name); Mihawk would bet his life she’s going to welcome him with open arms -and legs, hopefully; after four months with only his right hand for company, he can’t wait to bury himself in his lover’s tight and warm pussy and show her how much he has missed her- happy and relieved to see him safe and sound. After all his lover knew he would be gone for a long time and have difficulties keeping in contact, and they have always supported each other’s endeavours as a pirate and a bounty hunter respectively; even in the event she didn’t receive his letters, she has no reason to complain because of his long absence and the fact he didn’t call. 

So no, the welcome that awaits him is not the reason for his current anxiety; what is, then? The lady Veressa, who he met briefly as he arrived at the fortress, assured him (name) is alright, so he has no reason to worry in that regard; on the other hand, the older woman seemed… what? Not exactly worried, or scared, but somehow anxious, and she has urged him to go to her daughter immediately, as if there was something important he had to see, or to discuss about with (name). 

What the hell is happening? Mihawk keeps asking himself as he stares at the door of his lover’s apartment, the pounding of his heart almost deafening; part of him wishes he could take a bath, and change his clothes, before presenting himself to (name) for the first time in four months, but Mihawk considers that thought only for a moment before dismissing it. Right now all he needs is to make sure she’s fine, and to kiss her; and then perhaps they can take a bath together.

He knocks. “(name), it’s Mihawk.” he announces as he opens the door without waiting for an answer; he steps into the room and his gaze immediately falls on the woman sitting on a sofa (a new piece of furniture, he vaguely reflects, strangely out of place in her study) without a book to read or her derringer to clean, simply waiting - for him.

She smiles at him, radiant and more beautiful than ever, and Mihawk thinks he would have endured any hardship, and stayed away for years rather than months, if it meant being welcomed back like that. “My love.” he murmurs, his heart overflowing.

“You’re back.” (name) whispers, the tone of a woman who dares not believe her eyes; she stands - or at least she tries, oddly awkward and cautious as she grabs the sofa’s armrest to heave herself up, an arm wrapped around her middle. Mihawk is immediately concerned; is her lover sick after all? Why does she move like that? And what is she wearing…? “You’re here; I wasn’t expecting you yet, I thought you’d have to stay longer on Shima…”

“I came as soon as I could; I wasted enough time in that blasted place already.” he explains quickly as he reaches her; his hands find hers, and a kiss is pressed to her knuckles “My darling, are you alright? You seem..”

“I’m fine, Mihawk; really. But…”

She bites her lip, looking expectantly at him as if waiting for a response to a question Mihawk has not perceived; reassured but still confused, he follows her gaze down her body, to the soft protrusion of her belly, and one does not need to be a midwife to comprehend the state his lover is in, but like her, Mihawk has ordered himself to stop thinking about the possibility ever since they have discovered (name) is infertile, and even just considering what is evident and clear and real in front of his eyes requires more courage than for a moment he can gather.

He’s staring silently, his mouth half-open, until with a soft smile (name) takes his hand and gently places it on her belly, his fingers instinctively spreading to feel, gauge, and this is different from any body he has ever known, not the softness of fat nor the luscious curves of her femininity, it feels hard - almost like a shield, a shell, protecting the fragile treasure inside.

“I thought you had put on weight.” he murmurs, more to himself than to her.

“Excuse me?”

“The last time we have been together; as I caressed you I… I thought you had gained a few pounds, and I thought it odd, because you have never been a big eater…”

“Well, I hadn’t; it’s another sort of pleasure I have indulged in, rather than food.” she confesses, a tiny smile blossoming on his lips; Mihawk looks at her, for once in his life stunned beyond words, but (name) knows and loves him enough to perceive what he wants, what he needs, and smiles as she rests her hand on his over her belly.

“I’m pregnant.” she declares “Mihawk, you’re going to be a father.”

*

Mihawk looks on, fascinated, as the drops of water dripping from the fingers of his raised hand fall on (name) heavy belly, slipping down sideways or pooling around her belly-button. He’s sitting behind her in the large oval bath-tub, her back resting against his chest, (name)’s body snugly cradled between his legs; they have already washed and cleaned each other (“I’m sorry, I am covered with sweat.” “Don’t say it; you know I like you hot and bothered.”) and now they’re enjoying the first precious moments of intimacy after four months. Mihawk rubs his lover’s back gently, and feels her relax in his embrace; knowing that she had to deal with all of it by herself because he had left her alone fills him with guilt, even though (name) assured him she could never resent him given the circumstances, but Mihawk is determined to make up for it. He’s never leaving her (them) alone again; and he’s going to protect them with his life if need be.

The tub is filled to the brim, (name)’s belly emerging like an island in the middle of the sea; the thought brings a smile to his face. 

“How is it possible?” he murmurs; he doesn’t really need to know, since the several doctors his lover has consulted have agreed her pregnancy is going well and she has every reason to be optimist, but he can’t help wondering “You told me it was impossible; and we have been having plenty of sex for years now, you never got pregnant.”

“I have no idea.” (name) admits; she’s writing her and Mihawk’s names with the tip of her finger on her belly “None of the doctors can explain it; maybe… maybe it’s precisely because we have done it so much that it happened? If you plant a seed a million times, sooner or later it will take root, no matter how barren the soil is.”

It’s as good an explanation as any, and they both reflect on it as they hold each other. (name) shivers when Mihawk’s strong hands cup her breast, the touch gentle and cautious but confident as he fondles the soft flesh and stimulates her erect nipples. Her chest has gotten bigger, and Mihawk can feel himself growing hard under the water; he has considered the possibility that her state has affected (name)’s libido, but he’s pretty sure there are no particular contraindications to a pregnant woman having sex, and he wants her at least to know how absolutely ravishing and irresistible he finds her…

(name)’s moans of pleasure are music to his ears. She rests her head against his shoulder, arching her back as if to lift her chest and offer her body to his ministrations. “Are you happy?” she asks when their eyes meet. 

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Well, I know it saddened you when you found out I couldn’t get pregnant, but it was years ago, and at the time we weren’t in a relationship; it’s also possible to start having second thoughts when something you had until now only discussed suddenly becomes real.” 

Mihawk grins, determined to reassure the woman who has now turned her head to look at him, looking even more unsure than she sounds. He kisses her temple as he starts caressing her belly, a soothing, protective circular movement.

“I’ve never felt so happy in my life; truly, I… I didn’t think I could feel so happy.” Mihawk confesses in a whisper “I was yours already, and felt blessed to be your man, but now… I love you so much, (name); and I’ll always be here with you, and our baby. I promise I will never leave you.”

They share a kiss, sweet and deep and passionate; (name) turns cautiously in Mihawk’s arms until her belly is lightly pressed against his, and now they’re all locked in an embrace: him, his lover, and his baby. He’s going to be a father; Mihawk still can’t quite believe it. His life is going to change forever -technically it already has, even though Mihawk still can’t see how; for a man used to having full control of his life, to taking care of his needs alone and to not having to worry about anything, and anyone, else, it’s quite a big change, but the swordsman is all but disgruntled. He is elated, and can’t wait to meet his baby, who will be born…?

“When are you due?” he murmurs as he holds his lover in his arms, and it’s like that first question has opened the gates to all those that follow “Do you know whether it’s a boy or a girl? Have you started preparing for childbirth? Should we think about names?”

(name) laughs gently as her damp fingers play with his hair. “It’s still three months before the baby is born, so we have all the time to prepare for the big day. I asked the doctors not to tell me their gender because I didn’t feel I needed to know; do you?”

Mihawk thinks about it for a moment; in his heart he’s mostly indifferent to the whole matter, as long as the baby is healthy and the delivery is as quick and painless for (name) as it can be; he knows there is absolutely nothing he can do about either matter, and the knowledge does scare him a little. If something were to happen to her, to them, and he was powerless to help… “I… don’t, no; let us find out on the day they are born, shall we?”

“Good idea; which means we should have at least one name ready in either case.”

(name) rests her cheek against her lover’s shoulder, looking up at him in a way that makes the usually restrained swordsman’s head spin. “Should we have a girl… do you want to name her after your sister?”

“... you would be alright with it?”

“Of course. It’d be a way to have her back with you, in a way, and to remember everything she has done for you.”

Mihawk considers the offer for a minute, less enthusiastic than many men -and brothers- would be in his place. The truth is, while he will never forget his sister and will forever love and miss her, he’s not sure he wants a constant reminder of her around him, day and night. So many years after Yoru’s death, he still feels pain every time he thinks about her, the guilt for not having been there to protect her when she needed it and after she had sacrificed her happiness to raise and protect him so intense and overwhelming he sometimes can’t bear to look at himself in a mirror. He knows (name) means well, and he loves her for that, but what if history repeats itself? What if he ends up failing his daughter, and her mother, like he had failed her namesake? What if one of his enemies threatens baby Yoru, and once again he’s not there to protect her?

He has never believed in fate, nor doubted his strength; but when his child is concerned, Mihawk is not willing to risk it.

“I’ll think about it.” Mihawk murmurs in the end as he forces himself to smile, not wanting to ruin the happy moment he and his lover are sharing; thank all the Gods (name) doesn’t seem to perceive his distress, or more likely she does but wisely decides not to comment. She offers her mouth to Mihawk once more, and he happily kisses her. 

“If we have a boy then we could give him your father’s name.” he suggests a moment later. The water is getting colder, which means they’ll have to leave the tub soon, and at the moment no one, no enemy, not the Marines, not even a God descended to earth, could ever tear him away from his lover, but he’d gladly remain here forever… he, (name) and their child, both in his arms, his to protect and love.

(name) smiles; it seems easy for her, even though she surely loved her father and mourned his death as much as he did with Yoru’s, and Mihawk envies her. “His name was Sargol; not a name I would inflict on an innocent baby. Father always said the other children made fun of him because of it.”

Mihawk is ready to bet their child will easily dispatch any bully who tries making fun of them. “Then let’s both think about it.” he suggests; he sees his lover shiver, and starts rubbing her arms to warm her “It’s like you said, we still have time. This name will be our first gift to our baby, we will have to choose it wisely.”

They leave the tub soon after, quickly drying themselves before walking naked to the adjacent bedroom, hand in hand; they reach the bed, Mihawk insisting on helping (name) to lie on her back before curling protectively next to her. “Are you sure you’re not cold?”

“I’m fine.” she reassures him with a smile “Tell me about Shima. Given what has been written in the paper it seems that if you and the other Warlords hadn’t intervened the conflict would have lasted for another decade.”

“Probably; it was all very stupid, the Marines had us come and then kept us on the sidelines, doing nothing.” Mihawk confirms; the longer his collaboration with the World Government lasts, the more he regrets having accepted their offer “Next time they can deal with their crisis on their own, I’m not wasting any more time.”

“Well, I’m proud of you; you helped stop a bloody war.”

The swordsman grins; he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t feel flattered by his lover’s admiration. “I just wanted to come back to you; I didn’t know about your pregnancy, but I felt I had to be here as soon as I could.” he explains; his fingers brush against her cheek “Gods, you are so gorgeous.”

“I’m fat, Mihawk. I have started waddling like a duck, and I’m not even sure my lady parts are still where they’re supposed to be, because my belly covers them.”

Mihawk’s grin grows wider. “Allow me to check.” he offers innocently, and a moment later his hand has slipped down his lover’s side towards her buttocks and then between her thighs. (name) gasps. “Mihawk! I’m six months pregnant!” she points out, almost appalled, but she’s smiling as well, and her legs have opened slightly, allowing him entrance.

“I’m well aware, my darling. And this would not be our first time either.” he considers; (name) had been pregnant already the last time they slept together, on Kuraigana, and the previous one as well, when they spent a week on an exclusive resort island, far from duties and concerns of any kind, free to focus on each other and on the way their bodies could make each other sing “And to think you thought you had entered menopause…”

“Well, i-it was a much more reasonable explanation than a pregnancy, that’s -hmmm- that’s for sure.” 

“I’m aware, but it’s ironic, is it not?” Mihawk insists, as his middle finger disappears inside his lover’s warm cavern “You felt as if your womanhood had withered, and instead it was flourishing. You felt empty, but you were fuller than ever…” 

Finally, (name) grins back at him; she arches her back, shamelessly opening her legs, and reaching towards his already hard cock. “I missed you, you know? I missed your presence and your voice and your kisses… but I think what I missed the most was this.”

“Oh? So this is what you want me for, to warm your bed and nothing more?”

“If it’s any consolation, my bed has never been warmer than since you have started sleeping in it…”

Mihawk says he’s glad to hear it. He moves carefully as he pulls his hand back, making (name) whimper in protest, and kneels between her legs, looking at the woman waiting eagerly in front of him - waiting for him, and for the pleasure and satisfaction he can give her. How beautiful she is, so soft and warm and feminine, her already gorgeous body made fuller and more curvaceous by her pregnancy; he never found expecting women attractive, but this is different, she is different, she is his and he has put a baby inside her, and while he can’t wait to meet their child, Mihawk wouldn’t complain if his lover’s pregnancy lasted for a while longer…

“Tell me if it hurts, or if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not made of glass, Mihawk; and I want you so much.” 

“I want you too, my beauty.” Mihawk murmurs, and a moment later he has lowered his face between her legs, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it; he feels (name)’s body spasm, her hands clawing at his shoulders as if the woman feared being swept away, and suddenly she’s screaming, loud enough for the whole fortress to hear, and Mihawk is kneeling on the bed, his arms tight around his lover’s thighs as he kisses her core, panting into it. They have both been waiting for this for four months, but Mihawk still feels he has much to make up for; because of this he waits to make her come twice before gasping for air, his well-trimmed beard wet with her fluid.

“You are… an animal.” (name) pants as they both catch their breath; she smiles as her lover lies by her side, as she uses her finger to tenderly clean his mouth “That was the filthiest thing… I fear I will never feel clean again in my life…”

“Meaning you didn’t enjoy it?”

“I absolutely loved it; now let me reward you, please?”

Mihawk smiles as he bends to kiss her. His hand is caressing her stomach, but his yellow eyes are fixed on hers, on her beautiful face; he can’t wait to meet their child, but (name) is much more than simply the mother of his baby, she is his partner, the woman he loves, his mate, and he wants her to never forget. “Would you prefer to stay on top?”

“I’ll squash you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not that heavy. You’ll tire yourself more, but perhaps you’ll be more comfortable without me pressing on you.”

The reasoning seems to convince her. A moment later they have switched positions, Mihawk lying on the bed as (name) sits on his lap, doing her best to weigh more on her calves than on him; he’s painfully, amazingly hard, the perfect beauty of the long, thick member as usual stealing her breath away. She doesn’t doubt her lover still finds her attractive, and more importantly that he’s happy he’s going to become a father, but she still feels clumsy, heavy and graceless as he takes him in her hands, stimulates him like she has learnt he likes, and slips it inside her. Mihawk’s hands are holding her hips, his pretty mouth moaning her name in an endless litany; the moment the tip of his cock presses against her core, (name) hears him sigh with a naked, almost visceral relief, as if his lover had been allowed a single breath of pure air after a lifetime spent underground. “Yes…” he hisses, grabbing more forcefully at her “Like this, darling… take me, take all of me, it’s all yours…”

She seems to take his word for it, because a moment later Mihawk is the one groaning as his lover’s warmth envelops him; (name) stretches over him, her forearms resting above his shoulders as she finds his mouth for a kiss. “Mate.” she purrs, and it takes Mihawk all of his ample self-restraint not to explode there and then; she lets his hands slid down (name)’s back until they are grabbing at her buttocks, and then she has started moving, fucking herself on his cock, and he has missed this so much, the perfect syntony between their bodies, enough that he has become addicted to it, enough that he knows he’ll never be able to live without it. 

“I love you.” he moans, and (name) smiles as he kisses him once more.

“I know.” she answers primly, and Mihawk glares at her, incredulous, as the woman sits up, her lovely breasts bouncing with every push. For a moment, even frustrated as he is, Mihawk can’t help staring.

“(name)...!” he hisses, the threatening tone somewhat ruined by the fact that his eyes are pleading, begging for an even more powerful relief than the one he’s soon to find in (name)’s tight little pussy “Don’t play with me…!”

She giggles, and then decides to be merciful. “I love you too, Mihawk.” she murmurs gently as he bends once more to peck at his lips “And I always will. Now be good and let me fuck you.”

Mihawk obeys.

*

You’re having a bad day.

Which is surprising, considered that the last two months have been, if not exactly the easiest, the happiest of your life. 

Your lover has slept by your side every night since his return; this is by far the longest period you have spent together, but unlike what happens with some couples, no matter how close, you rarely argue, and spend most of your time together in complete harmony. Yes, it’s almost like being on a honeymoon… if only you wouldn’t feel more and more alike to a pachyderm with every passing day, with your own body rebelling against you.

No matter how excited you are that you’re soon going to meet your baby, and reassured that according to the doctors everything is going well and by the constant presence of your lover and your mother, you must admit being pregnant is harder than you expected.

Your belly seems to grow bigger every day, which is of course a good sign; on the other hand, having been used to an active lifestyle since you were a little girl, it feels weird, and frustrating, having to spend most of the day simply resting, and feeling tired even after half a day spent lying on a sofa or at most sitting at your desk - behind which you no longer fit, incidentally. Your mother has reminded you more than once that the lack of energy and constant fatigue are a normal experience for women in your state, since your body is now working for two and your baby, no matter how small and inert, drains a good percentage of your energy, and you’d obviously spend the next year lying still on your bed if it meant making sure your child is safe and well looked after, but there are moments, and sometimes days, in which it’s hard to keep your frustration under control.

You’ve been strictly forbidden from using your gun, and from training in any way; you’ve tried explaining to your doctors that while using the fortress’ small gymnasium is obviously out of the question, a few hours spent with target practice would only do you good, and you’d be more careful than ever handling your weapons, well aware of the dangers for you and your baby. The answer has been unanimous: out of the question; until the birth of your child, you’re not even to even glance at your collection of rifles and guns, including your beloved derringer. You’re encouraged to take a walk in the gardens, preferably not alone and avoiding the warmest hours of the day, and to attend the various meetings and audiences you routinely share with your mothers, with your rump firmly placed on a comfortable chair, but any physical effort beyond that must be avoided at all cost, which is easier said than done.

You hate feeling idle, especially while everybody around you looks more active than ever. Your mother seems to have grown twenty years younger ever since she has known she is going to become a grandmother, and especially after Mihawk, who she has always been very fond of, has joined you at the fortress; everything you can no longer do, either because the doctors forbade it or you’re simply too tired, falls on her shoulders, and while she’s still in excellent health and more lively than many your age, being reassured you can remain in bed, resting in your lover’s arms or at most writing letters or reading while she takes care of everything, fills you with guilt. You’ve been raised surrounded by unconditional love and support, but now that you're an adult and she’s not as young as she used to be, you should be the one taking care of and supporting your mother, not the other way around!

Mihawk is also impeccable in his taking care of you. While you’ve told him more than once that you could never hold the months he wasted on Shima against him, since it was a very important mission and at the time neither of you knew you were pregnant, your lover is clearly determined to make up for the time you spent apart. He accompanies you at all your doctor’s appointments, is always ready to support you every time you have to exert yourself, and insists on keeping several blankets in your -now shared- room even though the nights on the island are quite warm at this time of year and, you’ve pointed out innocently one night, you’d receive more warmth if he kept you in his strong arms. 

Not the type to fuss, not least because he knows how careful you have been since you’ve become aware of your pregnancy, he nevertheless remains by your side constantly, as if to protect you from any danger or threat you might stumble into. His hand is always resting on the small of your back as you walk, he makes sure you always have a chair, and a blanket, and a glass of water, wherever you go, and he has even started giving you foot massages - not very sexy, perhaps, but your poor lower extremities appreciate it very much. At night, he spends hours talking to your child, his cheek resting on your chest as he tells them how much he loves them already, how he can’t wait to meet them and hold them in his arms, and that whatever happens he’ll be always proud of them, and ready to defend them with his life. Then his gaze meets yours, and a softness you’re ready to bet no one else in the world has ever witnessed fills his yellow eyes. “How will I ever thank you enough for this splendid gift?” he murmurs before he moves to kiss you “I love you so much, my darling; you’ve made me happier than I remember ever being.”

He’s sweet, passionate, no matter how unattractive you feel in your state, and protective, he has always been, and you know he will keep all the promises he has made to you and your baby; because of this you do your best to be strong when you’re together, to keep your fears and griefs in the depth of your heart in order not to worry him. 

You don’t tell him how hard the first stage of your pregnancy has been for you, when you felt so alone; you had your mother, yes, and so many other people ready to support and help you, but you missed your lover terribly, more acutely than you ever had since your relationship had started. It wasn’t like you felt the need to be protected; rather, you had the impression something around you was wrong, as if you had lost your way while walking on a path you had known your whole life. Why wasn’t he with you? That was his place, with you and the child he had put inside you and who grew with every passing day; you knew rationally it wasn’t his fault, that refusing the call of the Marines could bring trouble and he didn’t even know about your state when he had left. Resenting him for having abandoned you would be stupid, petty, and unfair, but in those first few weeks, as you were tormented by nightmares and you woke up screaming in the middle of the night, already convinced to find blood on your sheets as your baby died just like it had happened to his half-sibling years ago, it was hard not to feel yourself abandoned, alone with a child you felt unable to protect, while his father was away, free of worries. As Mihawk had warned you, contacting him via Den Den Mushi had proved impossible, and the letters you had tried sending him had been returned to you; you didn’t doubt he had also attempted to write, and thought about you constantly, but you spent so many nights crying, and feeling alone, small, fragile, certain that the miracle you had experienced would not take root, and your baby would die leaving you powerless, and empty, once more.

These fears have gradually subsided, since you have entered your second trimester (which meant, as the doctors explained, that you had left the period in which there was a higher risk of miscarriage) and especially since your lover has returned, but you still can’t leave them behind you completely. You still wake up in the middle of the night, protectively held in Mihawk’s embrace but unable to find comfort in it. You know that while older than average for a woman at her first pregnancy you’re healthy and strong and there is no reason to doubt both you and your child will be fine, but once again, your heart is instinctively scared while your mind is rationally optimist, and it’s easier to give in to fear than to hope.

The only moments you are completely at ease it’s on full moon nights; as you turn, the baby shifting with you in your womb, you feel an enormous weight disappear from your chest, leaving you free to breathe for the first time in twenty-eight days. While well aware of her state and excited she’ll soon meet her cub, wolf-you doesn’t know fear and anxiety; surrounded by her friends who play and howl, she lies on the grass, letting the moon’s soft light bathe her as she munches on a prey her mate or her mother have hunted for her, and listens to the tiny heartbeat matching hers, dreaming of when her pack will be complete.

Her pack…

There is one topic you haven’t had the courage to broach with Mihawk, namely where he is going to live once the baby is born. The current state of affairs (you on your island and him on Kuraigana, visiting each other regularly to spend a few days together) may have worked for the two of you until now, no matter how hard it still is to say good-bye, but the arrival of your child is destined to change everything. Given how attentive he is to your needs and excited for the birth of your baby, you are confident Mihawk will want the three of you to live together; there are pirates who leave their partners and children in some harbour town and visit once in a while -or depart never to return- but he is not that sort of man. The choice seems obvious: Mihawk knows you cannot leave your island, that you have duties here, he has developed a good relationship with your mother and has even spent two full moon nights with your pack. Despite his introverted nature and strong preference for his own company (and that of a few accurately selected people, like you or his friend Shanks) you know your lover would be happy living on your island permanently; he wouldn’t be forced to share your duties as the lady’s consort, and could continue his business as a pirate as he wants.

You haven’t discussed the matter in a while but you’re well aware you’ll need to do it soon, preferably before your baby is born; nevertheless, every time you have the chance to address the subject (as you and your lover take a night stroll in the gardens, or while you are in bed, his cheek resting on your chest as you play with his dark hair) your courage fails you.

Why does that happen, again and again? Even though your lover is a predominantly taciturn man, you’ve always been able to talk openly, both of troubles one of you was experiencing and about matters that could potentially create friction between the two of you - which fortunately never happened. Then why do you hesitate? You have never been as close as you are now, both physically given the two consecutive months he’s been sleeping in your bed, and emotionally, but something stops the words in your mouth every time you try to broach the subject. Do you feel guilty because you’re basically asking him to move in with you, having refused to do the same for him? Do you fear that he could refuse, too jealous of his privacy and independence despite the deep love for you and the new life you’re soon going to deliver? 

The last thing you want is for your lover to sacrifice his happiness for you, but becoming the lady of your island is your destiny, what you’ve been prepared to do since you were born, and even though your mother is still in excellent health with many years in front of her sooner or later the moment will come for you to take her place, a moment that will also influence the lives of the people closest to you. You want your child to be your heir, which means they will have to be raised on the island, and Mihawk knows it, but…

You need to do it; and you will, you decide one day as you see your lover reaching you on the bed, his dark hair still damp after his bath, naked save for his sleeping pants. “Are you comfortable?” he asks in a murmur as he lies down next to you, smiling as he sees you snuggle against his side “Shall I fetch a blanket?”

“Since you’re here I have all the warmth I need.” you reassure him with an adoring smile; corny, perhaps, but that doesn’t make it less true. Tomorrow you’ll talk, you promise yourself as you share a few lazy kisses with your lover, the gentle caress of Mihawk’s hand on your by now huge stomach gently lulling you to sleep; you will make sure you’re not disturbed, discuss calmly about both the matter of his residence, and together you will find a solution. You always do. “Shall we sleep? I’m quite tired.”

“Of course. Good-night, my love.”

Mihawk lies on his side, his arm draped around you; he seems… pensive, somehow, as if he had something important on his mind, but not worried, which reassures you. Tomorrow, you think; tomorrow you’ll talk, but until then you’ll treasure the delicious sensation of his body next to yours.

[bl-danmei-planet]

Jinx: Jaekyung's POV

I'd like to analyze something that Jinx hasn't had (much) in the story yet: Jaekyung's POV.

The story is told from Dan's perspective, so naturally the reader has more sympathy towards Dan. Clearly Dan is the one who suffers in the story. Jaekyung's impulsive nature, anger, and high sex drive are something that are still a bit mystery.

Many readers are waiting for the explanation for his toxic behavior. Many readers are looking for him to "turn to a green flag". Readers love "tame the beast" type of story in romance. Mingwa has said this to be a classic story, so it will be possible it takes this route. But so far there is not character development with 50+ chapters in the story.

In Mingwa's earlier work BJ Alex the toxic top Jiwon also goes through flasbacks that explain his shitty behavior and through separation arch he realizes his feelings. At the end of the story he is a changed man. Some readers speculate that Jinx will take the same route because there are some similarities with the stories. However I'm doubtful of that.

Will there be a tragic backstory? In the last chapters it was revealed that his opponent Junmin has met him before and said to him:

This put Jaekyung's under a lot of stress. I believe this exhange clearly shows that Jaekyung's has had a troubled childhood. To me it's clear that his avoidance of emotion and cold nature is a result of some kind of trauma.

Will there be a regret arch or separation arch? I feel that now (ch. 51) we are going through some kind of introspection. Jaekyung's processing the fact that Dan might have betrayed him. In my interpretation it is miracle to Jaekyung why Dan hasn't left him before and has tried avoiding that by making him financially dependent on him. Their very first encounter starts as a transaction. Jaekyung's past lovers have been paid to have sex with him (as far as we know). He clearly has issues with intimacy. I feel that it is a miracle to Jaekyung that Dan has stayed with him. Jaekyung has broken his boundaries and played with him however he wants and Dan has submitted to him. I think one part of Jaekyung expects Dan to betray him at one point. Him ignoring Dan's feelings and doing what he wants separates himself from human connection. It might be one type of self harm to treat people shitty and be seemingly okay that they don't like you.

I believe Jaekyung's backstory will be tied to how he feels like he has to be the dominant one, the winner, the Emperor. I wish the backstory would give Jaekyung some character depth because usually very dominant and independent people have gone through something abusive and they have been forced to be in a submissive role. I talked previously how this work has BDSM undertones and how Jae's dominance plays a big part of his character. I would say he already has character depth because we have already seen him under a lot of stress and him contemplating why he is so obsessed with Dan.

Jaekyung is hard to read, he has a poker face. He simply does not show much emotion except for anger and lust. He is an emotionally detached man. This is what I find interesting about Jinx and Jae's character. How does such a cold character show love? Or even realize he's in love? I don't think we're ever going to see him as a super loving character because he has repressed so much of himself. He shows his emotions thorugh action. And with Dan the action so far in the story is possessiveness.

So many of the so called Jinx fans just straight up hate Jaekyung. I'm pretty sure everyone's minds will turn once we get his backstory. Jinx is a slowburn and people just don't seem to be patient enough for it and show their frustration in the fandom. I'm dissapointed in this because I really like Jaekyung's character. I like cold characters that are a bit of a mystery. Jaekyung portrays himself as the dominant one, but that is only the part of himself he shows to other people (and the reader). I feel that many readers would enjoy the story more if the could sympathize more with Jaekyung. But some people need to be reminded that this story is not for everyone and Jaekyung's not the typical perfect loving top many readers would like to have for themselves.