#I don't wanna be presumptuous!

[hyperionwitch-art]

Hi! I'm new to your blog and was wondering if I could get a brief snippet about some of your OCs? Like a backstory, little quirks, etc etc (Because they look really awesome and I want to learn a little about them!! Also your art is gorgeous)

Hi anon, welcome to the blog! Thanks for the sweet words~

Haha, I'd love to talk about my OCs...but there are a bunch of them floating around! ...I mean it doesn't LOOK that way because I mainly post about my Terrible Kids, but in my brain there are a ton, I swear.

Let me know if there's anybody you'd like to know about specifically! The big ones that actually get airtime are uuuuh The Kids and other TES folks, Tam, Nehris, and the assorted Pathfinder kiddos (mostly Jessen I guess), but if you dig up somebody specific I can do my best!

I feel bad not responding with something immediately though, so here are a couple misc. posts that have some backstory and fun facts about a few characters! 🖤

About Tev Voiceclaims Fave OC facts

[nevertrulyset]

Did I just pre-order one of those casual-style field ops officer jackets from Picard season 3 even though it's due to arrive during summer months?

Oh, yeah, I did.

🖖

[fr3aklike-me]

the way I told myself I'd try to stop simping over this masc girl who I know isn't into me, and then my brain decides to have a dream about her

[corvuscore]

.

[sugar-omi]

[part 2/alt, fem/afab reader]

imagine deciding to lose your virginity to cove.

you're both eighteen, horny as shit, but you don't wanna give it up to just anyone. so it only makes sense to lose it to your best friend right? and not some college douche who'll only brag about popping another freshman cherry

cove's so flustered when the thought is put out there.

it doesn't even matter who asks first, because after the proposal is floating between you, neither of you can even think if you or him said it. the words, the idea. the thought of doing the act.

and when cove finally, but tentatively, leans forward to kiss you. it's all downhill.

it's a messy kiss, because even if you know how to kiss, you're both too excited to even bother worrying about making out like stupidly inexperienced teens, your tongues sliding along each other and your eyes rolling when cove sucks on your tongue, pulling at your clothes, flinging off his own clothes when you pull away to tug off yours.

you can hardly get your shirt over your head before his lips smash into yours, his body leaning forward, which forces you to lay back on the bed, arms tangled around his neck and cove's trailing from your jaw to neck, down your collarbone to your abdomen, leaving wet, dark hickeys along the way.

you can scold him later. but can you really complain since you've left your own set of hickeys on cove, some darker than others, sure to be evident for days

and even though it's his first time, he's a bit relentless. enthusiastically eating you out / sucking you off until you're begging him to get off, jumping and whining every time his fingers curl against your gummy walls

and when he finally sinks into you, he kisses your tears away, soothes you as he slowly sinks inside. he's trying to be patient. but his head is spinning and his senses are totally fogged up.

he's so sweet, really. holds your hand and everything, praises you, tells you he loves you. isn't even sure if he means it as a friend or as a crush, the lines of your friendship is blurred now. after this, it'd be way too awkward to go back to just "best friends", right?

but you trust him, you said so. both of you trust each other enough to at least not regret sharing your first time with each other

and even when his gentle, shallow thrusts turn into his hips slapping against your butt, his cock head bullying your sensitive cervix / prostate, even when you sob because you can't help but finish prematurely around his length, and locking your legs around him so he doesn't pull out.

can't even bring himself to worry about anything afterwards when you're making such a pretty face, hot and sweaty, your face twisted up with pleasure and you're clinging onto him for more

kisses you to muffle your moans, you're both far too loud, even if you have the house to yourselves right now. what if someone comes back?

it's so intimate this way. his arms wrapped around you, his dick lovingly stroking and hitting all those sweet spots inside you.

it's even intimate when he carefully cleans you up afterwards, as if apologizing for getting carried away, and audibly apologizing for biting your shoulder when he came

he didn't mean to be so rough, promises he won't do it again.

startles himself when he says it, he doesn't mean to be presumptuous! he doesn't expect this twice! but i mean.. there's time before you leave for college, so maybe a little more experience won't hurt..

[drdemonprince]

Re: autistic advice; i keep seeing people making fun of stuff like "are you in a place to hear bad news" or scripts like that. I grew up in an environment where it was common practice to just drop heavy subjects on people out of the blue, & I still find that intensely uncomfortable. But I've now had multiple people tell me that it makes them feel shitty when I ask, for example, "are you up for a dark subject?" & I don't really know how to square it away. I want to make sure that I'm not stepping on anyone's toes or making them feel ambushed or trapped, but apparently it makes some people feel like they're not allowed to have their feelings. I end up feeling pretty shitty about it, because like... it feels like either I have to be Rude (because it DOES feel rude to just drop a dark topic on someone) &/or risk having something shitty I can't deal with dropped in my lap, or else really upset people. I guess... is there a way to navigate this?

I would recommend being more specific.

People find phrases like "Are you in a place to hear something that might hurt you?" and "Are you up for a dark subject?" to be a bit presumptuous about what their emotional reactions will be or what they are capable of handling. It also can make what would have otherwise been a very unremarkable exchange become tinged with anticipatory anxiety.

When someone asks me a question like "are you up to hear something dark?" I might feel coddled and condescended to, rather than emotionally respected. Or if they ask me "are you prepared to hear something that might hurt you?" / "are you up for a serious conversation?" I think they're about to drop some serious emotional bomb on me, like that they're friend-dumping me for something horrible that I didn't realize I did. Then when it ends up being a meme they want to share or a question about a celebrity lawsuit or something i'm kind of pissed at the false alarm and the coddling that, rather than protecting me, made me feel worse.

In either case, rather than giving me time to emotionally prepare or interact when I am ready, these vague questions have introduced some kind signal of social or emotional threat. If anything, it increases the felt urgency to just have the damn conversation already and see what kind of monster is lurking behind the person's words. It makes me *less* likely to exercise control over when the conversation happens or when I see the upsetting thing.

So be specific. "Do you wanna see a disgusting meme?" "I want your opinion on something, but the question touches on sexual assault. Is that okay to talk about?" "I want to talk to you about a conflict I'm having with my other partner." "Can I ask you your opinion on this transphobia discourse?" Etc.

The more specific you can be about the subject and why you are asking about it, the more power you are giving the other person to actually decide what they want to engage with. When someone asks me if I am willing to discuss something dark, I really have no idea what to say. They're imposing their judgement of what is a dark or upsetting topic onto me, when really they have no idea what I might find triggering and what I might really enjoy getting to talk about.

Rather than trying to protect me from something I haven't even encountered yet, you gotta let me encounter it, and actually trust that I will take care of myself. If I don't want to talk about sexual assault I won't, if I don't want to look at gross imagery I'll say no, if hearing one more bad thing about your other partner is going to make my jealousy fume, I am responsible for handling that. You're not responsible for my emotions.

It's good to notice which subjects your friends are especially sensitive to and what big triggers they have so that you can be considerate. My friends know I cant look at lots of blood flowing out of someone for instance and dont send me visuals/fics that feature, say, wrists being slit or blood being drawn. But if they forgot, I'd understand and just look away and squeal oh no i cant look at that get it away. And that would be fine. They are not responsible for my reactions to things.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters' Favorite Fast Food Restaurants

As requested by @sharks-musket :)

I've done food-related Cosmere posts in the past, such as "Rock reviews food from across the Cosmere" or "Cosmere characters review food not native to their planet" or "What Cosmere characters would order at Subway".

But for today, let's consider what characters' favorite fast food restaurants would be, if such things existed in their universe.

1. Shallan: Five Guys

I cannot possibly improve on the joke that @epicmilly has already made: https://www.tumblr.com/epicmilly/762060066847424512/could-you-do-cosmere-characters-try-fast-food?source=share

2. Marasi: Dairy Queen

Steris: I cannot believe you still eat here. Steris: Multiple people have gotten food poisoning from the food! Marasi (looking up from the Blizzard she is going to town on): They have food here?

3. Kelsier: In-N-Out

Kelsier: I'm not gonna lie. I'm a sucker for any restaurant with a secret menu. Dockson: It's straight-up published these days, though. Kelsier: Well sure. There's no point to a secret that never gets out!

4. Hrathen: In-N-Out

Hrathen: I don't know how effective it is, but I appreciate that this restaurant prints verses from its holy text onto its packaging. Hrathen: I mean, it's the wrong holy text, but... Hrathen: [looks over to where Dilaf is standing on a table, ranting loudly] Hrathen: Some people take that more personally than others.

5. Lift: Sonic

Lift: They got tons of milkshakes, which is fun. Lift: But mostly I like all the carhops who glide around all graceful like! Lift: I haven't seen even ONE scooting around on their butt! Lift: That's how you KNOW it's a stormin' quality place.

6. Adolin: Wendy's

Adolin: I support redheaded women in business! Shallan: ... Shallan: That should sound so cheesy, but somehow it works when you say it.

7. Steris: Arby's

Steris: I think more restaurants should have slogans that simply state what food they have. Steris: "I'm loving it"? Presumptuous. "Have it your way"? Yes, that is how restaurants work. "Quality is our recipe"? That is not how recipes work. Steris: But "We have the meats"? Now THAT'S a slogan that tells you something about a place! Steris: ... Steris: What do you think? That's my Arby's routine. Wax: I think it's going to be a hit at the party!

8. Lopen: Taco Bell

Lopen: Not as good as chouta, but they have their own type of wrapped meats that are pretty good! Lopen: Best eaten drunk, if we're being honest.

9. Vin: KFC

Vin: You can get a BUCKET of chicken. Vin: It's a great food to chow down on while you're sitting perched on a roof in the darkness. Elend: I love you so much.

10. Wayne: Subway

Wayne: I order my accountants to eat there at least once a week to learn their business practices. Wayne: They made their $5 sandwich $14 for no reason! Wayne: That's the kinda business sense I wanna see in my guys. Daring: Great news! Your "This Sandwich Is Overprice Don't Buy It" campaign was a huge success! Call: People thought it was hilarious. They're selling like, well, like your overpriced sandwiches (since nothing is selling better). Wayne: Harmony DAMN IT!

11. Nightblood: McDonald's

Nightblood: I like how focused this restaurant is on slaying evil! Nightblood: There's the evil clown, the evil burglar guy, the evil purple guy, the evil guy with a burger for a head... Nightblood: They really promote lots of characters that need to be slain! Szeth: ...I sometimes doubt your ability to detect evil, Sword-nimi, but in this case, I know you are correct. Nightblood: Thanks! Nightblood: Wait, what was that first part?

12. Kaladin: Burger King

Kaladin: A lot of these restaurants have weird stuff, like a "Big Mac" or a "Prezel Baconator" or a "Doritos Locos Tacos." Kaladin: I like this place because it has "fiery chicken fries." Kaladin: Spicy. Made of a recognizable animal like a chicken. Fried. Kaladin: It all makes sense. It's all clear. Syl: [making her face look like the chicken on the box] Syl: This chicken sure is angry! Kaladin: It probably didn't want to be fried.

13. Dalinar: Burger King

Dalinar: The Way of Kings changed my life, and I feel that this restaurant, The Burger of Kings, will surely do the same. Adolin (in the tones of someone saying this for the umpteenth time): It's called Burger King. Dalinar (ignoring him): Already I ponder the deep philosophical implications of "Have It Your Way," which forces one to consider how every individual person has their own "way," their own journey, and must accept it. Adolin: Yes...I'm sure that's exactly what they were going for. Dalinar (peacefully munching fries): You doubted my visions at first, too.

[nocturnalrat]

can you do tired stressed miles (earth42! Or regular 1610! Miles)

Miles had a stressful time at work(fighting or sumn) and reader is just being a hugeee brat so he puts her in her place 🥹💕

Hi! Thanks for the prompt!

I chose Prowler!Miles for this, as I think he’d be more assertive & possessive than our ball of sunshine aka Earth-1610 Miles. :p Enjoy!

---

Dating someone with a double life had certain advantages, without question. But the list of drawbacks was just as long.

Moments like these made you realize how frustrating and difficult dating him could be sometimes.

You had planned on meeting tonight. But while you were waiting outside the movie theater, the following messages appeared on your phone:

won't make it tnight

sry

will make it up 2 u

You stared at the three texts and were irritated to no end. It had been weeks since you had last spent time together, just the two of you, and now you were being stood up by him. Again.  

When you finally arrived home, you ordered some food, worked on an essay for one of your college classes, and kept looking at the clock hanging on the wall.

Hours passed. You finished the essay, prepared a presentation for your biochem class, and tried to keep yourself awake with the help of coffee and an energy drink.

It was half past two in the morning when the front door opened quietly. He probably thought you were asleep. Well, he was wrong.

"Do you know what the word priority means?" you asked, annoyance clearly evident in your voice.

He didn't flinch when he saw you, nor did he look particularly surprised. Of course he didn't. There wasn't much that could startle Miles Morales; he was far too composed, too stoic, too stern for that.

Wretched fatigue showed on his face; he had dark circles under his eyes. Others would have found his moody demeanor threatening, but you knew that he was not half as evil as he looked. 

His reply came quick. "And do you know what the word responsibility means?"

You knew that this particular part of his life, and the responsibilities that came with it, took up a lot of his time. But that didn't mean you were happy or okay with it.

 "You stood me up three times in a row," you said, arms crossed in front of your chest. You tried not to pout too much and sound like a petulant child. "You know, Morales, not many people would put up with the shit you pull sometimes."

He raised an eyebrow and snorted. "Yeah, but you’re still here. Do you know why?" He took a few steps toward you.

"Easy one,” you replied. “Because I’m too nice and too good for you.”

“Don’t be bratty.”

“It’s the truth, though.” You shrugged, seemingly unfazed. “You know how many options I have? You’re not the only good-looking guy in New York, Miles.”

You knew immediately that you had said something wrong. His gaze darkened and he clenched his jaw.

You felt a chill run down your spine.

"What I meant by that is -" you started, but he cut you off.

"Shut up. Do you know why you’re still with me, despite the circumstances?”  

He leaned his forehead against yours and took your face in his hands.

"I asked you a question." His grip tightened.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat and attempted to shake your head, but you couldn't move; his grip was too strong. "No," you said quietly.

"Because you’re mine," he replied, and his voice was velvety and soft. "Mine alone. You belong to no one else. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Good.” He smiled as he stroked your hair. "I never want to hear you say something like that again.”

"Then stop being so tired and stressed all the time," you muttered, unable to keep the hurt and sadness from your voice.

"You wanna know what would make me feel less stressed and tired?" A smug grin appeared on his face.

You rolled your eyes. "Pretty presumptuous, don't you think?"

"I'd rather call it determined and self-assured."

"The answer’s no. You don't deserve it."

"Really?" He kissed the corner of your mouth. "Didn't you say you missed me?"

"Just because I missed you doesn't mean I'm going to throw my self-respect overboard -" But the firmness of your sentence faltered as his large hands began to caress your body.

"Mine," he whispered against your lips. "And what's mine, obeys."

You loved it when he called you his own, when he put you in your place. A tingling, warm feeling blossomed inside you.

The following day you woke up next to a handwritten note and a box of your favorite chocolate.

8 p.m. tonight, Lincoln Square 13.

It's a promise.

[versusvirtuous]

Descendants Characters As Abbott Elementary Quotes

Chad to Audrey: You know I'm a feminist, that's why I let you pay for everything.

Carlos: So, what do you do here? Fairy Godmother: I'm the principal

Carlos: But...you really don't do anything..

Cinderella: Well, have a great day, Bridget

Queen of Hearts: Don’t tell me what kind of day to have. Getting all presumptuous and rude.

Audrey about Chad: I've been his girlfriend for five years but he's been my boyfriend for two

Red: I know what you're doing

Chloe:  Good, 'cause I worry about your awareness.

Gil: They just expect me to…know the date?

Ben: Nobody lets me do anything. But here I am...doing things. That's why I'm the leader.

Uma: The key to never getting your ass beat? Knowing when someone can beat your ass.

Chloe: Why did you draw the babadook?

Red: That's my mom

Harry: I haven't spoken to my blackmailer in two years. Do I miss my sister? Yes, every day.

Uliana: Poison??!! You know I would never poison anybody. If I’m taking someone out, I wanna watch them go.

Morgie: Meow, Y'all

Hook: Do you like pie?

Hades: Fruit shouldn't be hot.

Doug: How do you feel about pollution?

Evie: Uh…bad?

Doug: Me too, we have that in common. Do you have any other opinions?

Ben: Why don't you just leave me and my boiled-chicken sandwich alone!

Jay: Oh, boiled?! That's the worst way to cook it, man!

[weepylucifer]

i watch people react to the lotr movies on youtube sometimes - just for my personal relaxation - and this one guy just said "maybe this is presumptuous but why can't they just make a new, even stronger ring that controls all the other ones plus the one ring?" and, holy shit. why don't they just keep making even stronger rings. apart from all the lore and storytelling reasons for why that's not possible under those specific circumstances, i wanna send a complete stranger the wikipedia article for "arms race" so so so fucking badly 😂

[itsmarsss]

with a V [Steven Grant/Marc Spector x GN!Reader] (Moon Knight)

Word count: 785

This is another one in the 'scenes i don't wanna throw away from wips that i'm abandoning' series lol. No warnings.

When they 'speak' to each other, italics are Steven, bold is Marc.

Did I just ask them on a date? Yeah and I got their number. Clearly a team effort. 

[. . .]

"Hey, actually- I’m sorry if this is weird, but- are you an actor?"

"What?" 

What kind of pick-up line is that? 

It's definitely not a pick-up line!

"I uh- it's just- every time you come in you have like a different accent? Like sometimes you’re British, sometimes you’re american. Sometimes you even speak some spanish?”

Do you speak spanish? 

I can ask where the library is.

Why would you speak to them in spanish?

You think I came here and ‘donde está la biblioteca’d them? Why the fuck would I do that?

“... So I thought maybe you’re doing those method acting things or something."

"Uh, no. I'm not. Not an actor."

"Oh, okay. Sorry for being nosey, but it was eating me alive!” You joke.

"I work at a museum!" Steven blurts out. 

"Oh. You do?"

He nods.

"That's so cool! What do you do there?"

He averts his eyes to the floor in some sort of embarrassment. "I uh. I work at the gift shop right now. But I give tours sometimes! That's- that's what I actually want to do. Uh, teach people about… things."

"So you must really know your history then.”

"Enough to give tours about it. Not that I’m trying to be… you know. Presumptuous. Or anything.”

Is it even possible to be ‘presumptuous’ about that?

Shut up.

Who even uses the word ‘presumptuous’ anyway?

Shut up!

"Sounds like you have fun with it."

"Yes- Yes. I really like reading about these things- especially ancient Egypt. That's- that's actually what I give tours on."

Stop rambling.

I don't ramble! 

"Really? I've always been more of a greek-roman kind of person, so I don't really know that much about Egypt."

I cannot believe they liked the rambling.

You think so?

"You- oh. Do you want to- would you like to come by the museum some time?"

Yes, Steven! We gotta work a bit on the delivery but that's what I'm talking about! Make sure to put in a good word for me!

Don’t be stupid.

“What?”

“What?”

“You, uh-”

Oh, fuck, did he just say that out loud?

Idiot.

Fuck, he did. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was- I was talking to myself. Sorry.”

"Oh. Okay. Well, sure, uh… shit, I’m sorry, I never asked for your name."

"It’s Steven. With a ‘V’."

"Okay, Steven-with-a-V. I would like to come by the museum sometime."

Steven looked absolutely shocked, like the fact that you could say yes hadn't even crossed his mind. "You would?" 

After what you just pulled, I’m surprised too.

Or perhaps you’re just mean.

"Yeah, why not? Then you can teach me more about those things."

"Yeah. Of course. That would be… good. Great! It would be great. I'm- I'm giving a few tours tomorrow. Covering some shifts. If you- if you want to come by."

"I have the morning shift tomorrow. But maybe in the afternoon? What time are you out?"

"I'll be there until six, actually."

"On a saturday?"

"I switched with a colleague. Got both their shifts for tomorrow."

You smile, finally ringing up his order when someone else entered the place, cutting the interaction short. "6.99."

"What?"

"Your order."

"Oh. Right. Here."

He gives you a ten pound note, and you try to give him his change. 

He just smiles at you. "Keep it. As a tip. It's… for being nice to me. And showing up tomorrow?" He hoped he didn't sound cocky. Or like he wanted to buy you with a sorry three fucking pounds or something of the sort or-

"I'd need to know exactly where I need to be for that to happen."

"What?"

"There’s not exactly one single museum in this city, Steven-with-a-v."

"Shit. Right. It's-" 

No, dumbass! Don't just tell them!

What else do you want me to do? 

Holy shit.

"Steven?"

"Sorry, can I borrow that?" He says, pointing to your notepad… with that american accent, again. You then realize he never did explain anything about that, only saying he wasn't an actor, like you thought he was- which made this whole accent situation a lot more intriguing. You'd ask him about it again, but he'd just invited you to the museum and you weren't about to be nosey and ruin things.

Steven-with-a-v-and-an-american-accent grabbed the notepad and pen from the counter and quickly wrote his number on it.

"Just text me and I'll send you the address."

Eh-dress. What was this man’s deal? "Okay. Yeah. I will."

Did I just ask them out?

Yeah and I got their number. Clearly a team effort. 

Can’t you let me have this one?

If you put in a good word for me. 

Ah, yes, of course I will, that definitely won’t scare them off.

[. . .]

A/N: probably ooc but i dont really care lol this has been in my wips for like two years probably and it was never gonna see the light of day

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart)

Mihawk x reader. NSFW!!

This fic is part of the Beast in Black series.

Note - 13/11/2023: I have edited the fic to delete a brief, completely unimportant reference to Kain, the reader's past lover, in order to focus on other, more important characters.

*****

What I wanted to ask you is... do you wanna have a baby?

Dracule Mihawk doesn't have friends; he hasn't had any for a long time, maybe since he was still a child and forming bonds with school mates was almost inevitable. He knows, without guilt or embarrassment, that the fault is largely his own, since approaching him requires a certain courage, given his intimidating figure, not to mention his reputation; he prides himself on the fact he has never hurt an innocent, least of all voluntarily, but many people don't even need to know about his activities and his deadly ability as a swordsman to perceive he is not the sort of man you could invite to join you at the bar.

He is fine with that; truthfully, he is happy with that, since he has always preferred his own company to that of others; perhaps it is presumptuous of him, but most people bore him in the best of cases... and get on his nerves in the worst. At best, he has a few acquaintances he doesn't mind meeting, like Shanks (even though he doesn't consider the Red-Haired pirate a worthy opponent anymore, given the loss of his arm)... or you.

Your acquaintances goes back a long time, after a chance meeting soon after the beginning of your respective carreers. A swordsman who had challenged him was killed by you the day before they had agreed to meet for their duel; you apologized for stealing his adversary, and offered to split the bounty as compensation, but Mihawk declined, convinced that the fact that the other swordsman had been so easily killed made him an unworthy opponent, so in a way you had spared him a waste of time. You parted (somehow) amicably, and that had been your last encounter for years, until you had both allied yourself with the Marines, him as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea and you as a mercenary, both not exactly on the World Government's payroll but still regularly called upon to carry out assignments suited to your particular talents.

You have never exactly looked for each other, but for some reason you have met often and regularly, both at the Marine HQ and wherever your travels would bring you. You are extremely capable at what you do, proud of your abilities and accomplishments without lapsing into boastfulness, smarter than many of the people he has to deal with and a pleasant company when the two of you find yourselves killing time with a glass of wine as you wait to meet Vice-Admiral Garp. Mihawk... likes you, in a sense, a feeling that is in part respect and in part a fondness he can't describe; it is pleasant talking to you, you never get on his nerves like many people do, and he can't help admiring the bravery, stubbornness and resourcefulness that have made you the best mercenary in the four seas, capable of hunting down whoever you are pursuing across land and sea and dispatch them, accurate, relentless, and inexorable. He wouldn't say he looks forward to seeing you, but you are one of the few people he doesn't mind meeting, and is pretty sure you feel the same.

That is how things are between the two of you; such they have been for years, and such Mihawk expects them to remain for the foreseeable future... until today. Until your proposal, and since he has been a boy very few things and people have been able to surprise him, but this... this really takes the cake.

"Is it good to see you; it's been a while." you say, receiving a nod in response. A small, well-lit chamber in the Marine HQ is used as a waiting room for officers and civilians waiting for a meeting or to be received by a superior, and this is where the two of you have met, having both come to the HQ for your own affairs; you seemed happy to see him, and he had accepted your invite to sit and enjoy a glass of wine, that you had languidly ordered to the first cadet who had walked past you.

"It has."

"Are you leaving or returning?"

"Returning; I have to report to Garp." Mihawl explains as he makes himself comfortable on the chair; he has not fully carried out the task he had been assigned, since the young pirate who has inherited Shank's straw hat is still at large, but he is not worried of the repercussions; after all, he is not the Marines' lap dog, the Vice-Admiral's even less "Yourself?"

"Just received my new assignment; I'm leaving for the North Blue in the morning. Just killing some time until my dinner reservation." you elaborate; one of your many guns (you always have no less than four on your person, from the long rifle you carry slung over your shoulder to a tiny but deadly pistol you keep hidden in the wide sleeve of your shirt) is placed on your lap, together with the rag you have used to polish it until the arrival of your drink "So, what keeps the greatest swordsman in the world busy these days?"

You listen intently as he tells you about Zoro, a young and impulsive adversary he nonetheless is sure will one day will be worthy of his attention, and then you tell him about your latest quarry: a man who, knowing you were pursuing him, had hidden in a ball-room full of people during a dance, confident that the quick-moving throng around him would make it impossible for a sniper to aim. He didn't have the time to realize how wrong he was when you, hanging upside-down from a lamppost across the street, shot him through a window in the middle of a valzer, your bullet brushing against his partner's cheek without hurting her and passing through his skull from his left orbit.

"Impressive." Mihawk says; he doesn't tell you he could count the people who have earned such a compliment from him on the fingers of one hand, but you smile, clearly flattered.

"Thank you."

For a couple minutes, the only noise in the room is the soft song of the backwash filtering through the windows; you seem... pensive, Mihawk thinks, not sad but vaguely tense as you sip your wine, as if there were a problem you can't find a solution for.

The only other people present in the room are a trio of captains arguing over a map on the table in front of them; coming in, they have glared at both of you, as if unhappy to see a couple of miscreants like you, a pardoned pirate and a woman who kills for money, among them, but both you and Mihawk have ignored them. He sees a look of satisfaction on your face when finally the three uniformed officers leave; as soon as you are alone, you look at him.

"May I ask you something?"

Mihawk looks back; this is why you were anxious, he realizes. Even though you try to maintain a calm, almost casual tone, the tenseness is still clear in your eyes and in your ramrod posture, and in the way in which you almost subconsciously grip the gun in your hands, not to point it against him but because it makes you feel safer and more in control.

It is the same for him; otherwise, no matter how confident he is in his capacities as a swordsman, he would not sleep with Yoru under his bed... and the Kogatana under his pillow.

"You may." he concedes; not of course, or tell me everything, because such expansiveness is as far from his personality as it is possible to be, and you know it well. But he knows you as well, and because of this, he is willing to listen; he has no idea what you may want to discuss (maybe a partnership for a particularly challenging task? If so he might humour you, if the quarry is interesting. He wouldn't mind seeing you at work) but he must admit, he is curious... just a little "What is it?"

You breathe in, like a diver ready to jump; you don't lack courage, and still, for a moment Mihawk expects to hear you say "It doesn't matter." and leave it there.

You don't.

"I would like to ask you... if you'd like to have a baby with me."

*****

You can't remember ever being so nervous, even though he is the last of a long list of men you have approached (but after all, none of them were like the one sitting in front of you; none, you have come to suspect, could ever be), but when you look at Mihawk, who after a whole minute has yet to utter a single word, you feel a smile blossoming on your lips.

"Are you surprised? I should be proud, I left the infamous "Hawk Eyes" Mihawk speechless..."

"Is this a joke?" he inquires, and you would have to be deaf to ignore the threat in his voice; your smile disappears, as quickly as it had come.

"Absolutely not; I know you are not the joking sort, and this matter is extremely important to me. Give me five minutes and everything will be clear."

He doesn't answer, not even with a nod, but he remains where he is, silently allowing you to go on, and you swallow, your mouth suddenly as dry as if you hadn't had a sip of water in days. You are not afraid of him (not actively, at least; he could probably kill you, if he tried, but you know he is not the sort of man who needlessly resorts to violence for the simple pleasure to hurt others... and maybe, just maybe, your long acquaintance will grant you a little of his patience) but probably you'd have been better off keeping him out of your little plan. After all, there are so many other candidates, healthy men whose cooperation you could secure with a bought drink and a bit of sweet talking; involving him (a man you know, and respect, and because of this who you feel obliged to be honest with, not to mention it would be hard to keep him in the dark regarding your plan, since you meet semi-regularly) is unnecessarily complicated... but at the same time something in your heart, a tiny voice you have stopped listening to eight years ago, tells you that this is the right choice, he is - for your future child, and maybe for you as well.

"I don't think you know this, but I am the heir of a noble house." you begin "My family rules over an island in the North Sea. It is nothing special, tiny compared to many others similar domains, but the soil is fertile and we have trade agreements in place with many other kingdoms and cities; about fifteen hundred people live on the island, and my family has governed them for more than ten centuries. It is a very beautiful place, with a mild climate and a luxuriant nature."

Silence.

"Sorry, sometimes I get carried out when I talk about my home. Anyway, I am the only heir to the family; I have no siblings and my mother is too old to have other children, which means that the responsibility to ensure the continuation of the family lineage falls on my shoulders. Because of this, I have decided it is time for me to bear an heir who will one day rule our home; and because of this, I need someone to sire a child for me."

Silence again, and you know him well enough to know that Mihawk never utters three words if one is sufficient, nor does he appreciates useless talk from his interlocutor, so you force yourself to keep silent as well, feeling your heart beating fast enough to hurt. The worst he can do is refuse your offer, which would be disappointing (it would really be, you realize in your heart; a bitter, deep disappointment) but not an insurmountable problem, and you'd be free to look for another donor, but still, you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for an answer. Why do you feel like this?, you wonder; he is just one man, one you have grown deeply fond of in the years since your first meeting and whose blood would undoubtedly produce healthy, strong and attractive offspring, but suddenly you feel desperate to receive a positive answer, and you don't know why. Is it because after five years, you're starting to lose hope? Or because you know how embarrassing it would be, to think back to his refusal when you would meet Mihawk again in the future? Or maybe...?

"Don't noble families require a member to be married in order for their children to be eligible to inherit?" the man in front of you suddenly asks "I seem to understand you are not asking for my hand."

"I am not; what I would like from you is to get me pregnant, that's all. It is true that the children of unmarried couples are often forbidden from inheriting, especially in the case of a noble family, but things are different in my island. Marriage is often just a formality and a personal choice, and no large difference exists between couples who actually tie the knot and those who don't, nor between the treatment given to their children. A blood relationship with the ruler, or their heir, is enough to ensure suitability as far as the inheritance of the fief is concerned; I could technically adopt a child from another family, but their position would be less solid. I have no siblings or other close relatives: if the child is born from my womb, there will be no reason to doubt their qualifications." you explain, secretly relieved Mihawk has not refused your proposal already but suddenly wishing you could exchange the average red wine in your glass for a sip of cool water "So... are you interested?"

Silence - again, and this time it is clear to you Mihawk is reflecting on your words, something you can't blame him for, and obviously this is the sort of proposal you can't decide on in a matter of minutes, not to mention he is clearly the sort of man who likes to meditate on what he does, but at the same time you can't take it anymore... the silence is going to kill him.

"Mihawk, please." you murmur. For a moment you are about to rest your hand on his over the table, an innocent contact to lend more weight to your words, but thank all the Gods you stop yourself in time since, good acquaintances or not, in a heartbeat you'd probably find your hand amputated by the little blade hanging from Mihawk's neck "Tell me what you're thinking."

His eyes, until now focused on the wine in his glass, move to you, and for the first time since you remember, you need to make an effort to hold his gaze, not because of his eyes, whose colour actually reminds you of a bird of prey, rather because of the intent behind them: he is observing you like a scientist studying an interesting experiment, and it is not pleasant.

Stop it now, you're about to say, but once more, you force yourself to hold your tongue; you are not afraid of him, you have never been, but after all you're trying to earn his collaboration.

"I have a few questions." he states in the end, folding his hands on his lap.

"Understandable. Please ask."

"Why are you asking me?"

"Well, you're not my first choice." you confess, immediately aware those words don't precisely convey your thoughts; you glance at him, suddenly curious to know if he found them offensive, but Mihawk's face is as expressive as the wall behind him "I mean, I have started trying to conceive five years ago, and consequently it was then that I have started searching for a donor. Until now, I have chosen men I didn't previously know; I made sure they were healthy, because obviously I want my child to be physically and mentally sound, and young, since at a certain point age results in a decline of fertility. But now..."

"Now?"

You shrug. "I don't know. I am tired of sleeping with men I don't even know and don't feel attracted to; seducing them is not easy, since I have never been good at flirting, and I can't help feeling guilty when some of them ask to see me again. With you it would be different, and this is why I am coming clean about my real intent; with the others I didn't, and not simply because we meet regularly and you would notice I was pregnant and suspect the child was yours. I know you are in excellent health, and since I want what is best for my child, I'd be happy if they inherited your skills and strength of character."

"I see."

He seems uncertain - he is uncertain, you realize, maybe like it rarely happens in his life; but he is actually considering your proposal, which is already more than you felt confident about.

"What if I wanted to be part of the child's life?" he says after a while "And what if they were not fit to rule your island? Healthy parents can have sick children as well."

"Do you think I would put aside my child simply because...?"

"Answer me."

In your heart you can't blame him for asking, rather the fact that he wants to make sure the child will be taken care of does him credit; he doesn't seem the sort of man who dreams of fatherhood, but after all he deserves to have his say on the matter. So you tell him that your child will have to be raised on your island, since it will be necessary for them to know the land and the people they will one day have to rule, not to mention to receive the necessary education, but nothing forbids their father to spend some time with them, either there or wherever else. "You could visit our island as often as you want, or they could visit you; I'm sure you'll keep them safe. On the other hand, if you wished to have nothing to do with them, I would respect it; I would also keep your name a secret, if you so desire. And whatever happens, even if, Gods forbid, our child got sick or something actually made him unfit to rule, I would still take care of them at the best of my ability. I don't want you to think they would be a means to an end; I don't want a centuries-long lineage to end with me, and I know of my duties towards my island, but... but I do want a child. I want to become a mother, I have for a long time; and there is nothing I would not do to defend my child, not after...

... after what I have been through. After I failed once already.

"... after wanting it for so long."

Silence. Again. You are still clutching your wine glass, hard enough to break it you realize, and as you place it on the table between the two of you Mihawk is still deep in his thoughts, his fingers intertwined on his knee; after a while (you have practically stopped breathing) he opens his mouth to talk...

"Hawk-eye Mihawk? Vice-Admiral Garp is waiting for you."

You have nothing against the cadet who has just joined you at the table (a young, short man with pink hair and round glasses) but you find yourself glaring at him, wishing he had better timing. Mihawk doesn't try to hide his dissatisfaction either.

"I will be with him in a moment." he says with an hand-wave, as if to dismiss the messenger; for a moment the cadet looks as if he's about to say something, before wisely deciding it really is not worth it, and leaves the two of you alone.

Mihawk stands; in a moment, he has retrieved Yoru from the wall he had placed it against and he has placed it on his back, the movement as fluid and apparently effortless as those of a dancer. "I will think about it." he says; he doesn't add I promise or anything of the sort, but you can trust him (you do already) and you know it, and because of this, you smile.

"I know you will. Thank you; thank you for listening to what I had to say." you say, and then he leaves, and you pour yourself another glass of wine, still thirsty but aware you need more than water to recover.

*****

The sight of the sun disappearing beyond the horizon, the flame-red ball seemingly drowning in the dark waters of the sea, is still breath-taking; Mihawk loved it when he first took the sea as a young man, and while no one could ever consider him a romantic (not that many people know him well enough to get an impression of his personality, but still) he finds it equally charming now, so many years later.

The harbour is almost empty around him, a few sailors who hurry to secure their boats before retiring, while the Marines doing the night shift cross the paved path behind him to reach their post. A gentle wind has risen, the white feathers on Mihawk's hat and the tails of his coat barely stirring; he doesn't notice, so focused he is on the spectacle taking place as every day in front of him... and on the surprising proposal he has received four hours ago.

(name) has amazed him; that he has to give her. He would have never imagined her in the role of the scion of a noble family, given her collected but friendly personality, completely devoid of the conceit and sense of superiority so common among the few World Noble he has crossed path with, but at the same time, it isn't hard to imagine her drafting laws or collecting taxes in the little corner of world her family has ruled over for so long. How did a woman whose destiny had undoubtedly been prepared for her since before she was born (Mihawk had no doubts about it, given the care (name) herself had already taken programming the future of their child) end up working as a mercenary? Is her fief so impoverished she needs to raise funds to take care of her people? Or is it simply an hobby to pursue while the previous generation still rules... ?

Their child. The thought appars, sudden and unbidden, in his mind, and Mihawk finds himself struggling to breathe for a moment. He has never given much thought to a possible future paternity, and during his (very sporadic, at least in the last decade) sexual encounters he has always made sure to avoid the risk of pregnancy. Still, the idea of having a child with (name) is... intriguing. He has no doubt she would take care of her progeny in the best way possible, and while he has never considered himself an ambitious man, the prospect of contributing to perpetuate a centuries-long lineage is... pleasing; also, should the child demonstrate an attitude for swordsmanship, he could take them on as an apprentice and bequeath them his knowledge and capacities...

And then there is the other thing. The fact he is almost embarrassed to admit even in the privacy of his own heart, the small but not insignificant detail that has caught him off guard like no adversary has ever done since he was thirteen: the warmth that has filled his belly, and the area below that, when the mental image of him and (name) conceiving that child... the two of them naked, in bed together... blossomed in his mind.

He shouldn't feel embarrassed, let alone distressed, because of that. He is an adult, having thoughts and desires of a sexual nature is perfectly normal, and he has no troubles admitting, at least privately, that (name) is an attractive woman; he surely is not the first man to be attracted to her.

... am I? Attracted to her? I have never thought about her in such a way, let alone about the two of us together; and there was nothing lascivious in the way she discussed her proposal. She wasn't trying to... to seduce me, she asked for a favour but it was more akin to a business deal. Then why am I feeling like this?

He sighs, his eyes still focused on the darkening expanse of the sea. The whole matter is probably harmless, but delicate enough to potentially cause troubles down the line; but after all, what would they have to fear? The idea of becoming a father is not so unpleasant after all, he and (name) are both adults and have the sort of relationship he is confident would not suffer after the end of their... tryst. At worst, they will spend a few pleasant hours together; at best, they will have something precious to carry out their lineage once their time is over.

It is getting darker by the minute. Mihawk remains still, his svelte figure cloaked by the night, witnessing the sun disappearing under the sea.

*****

Dinner was nice. If there is a positive side in your visits to the Marine HQ, besides the thousands of berry you are paid every time you successfully carry out an assignment, is the possibility to visit the city's establishments, among which many world-class restaurants; after all, Admirals cannot always dine in the mess hall, and while you'd be content to taste your island's local cuisine for the rest of your days, sometimes it's nice to have a little variety.

Now, your belly pleasantly full, you are sitting cross-legged on the bed in the inn room you have booked for the night, still busy polishing your weapons, like you do at least once a week. A few of them (a couple of revolvers, customized to hold up eight cartridges instead of six; a carbine with a barrel longer than your leg, that you took as a souvenir from the last man you killed; an ancient varmint rifle you regularly use to hunt larger preys than badgers and boars; and your personal favourite, a beautiful, muzzleloading derringer, your name engraved on the ivory butt, that you always hide under your pillow before going to sleep) are neatly arranged on the duvet in front of you, waiting for their turn. You are singing softly under your breath as you clean the barrel of a gun from the drops of blood left by your latest quarry, when an unexpected noise comes to disturb your concentration: a discreet, soft but resolute, knocking on the door.

You haven't told him what inn you're staying in, nor were you thinking about your discussion at the Marine HQ. Still, you immediately know who it is, as sure as you are of your own name, and when you stand from the bed, the way your hand immediately moves to grasp the derringer is more out of habit than because of a potential danger, and the way your legs are suddenly shaking might be because you stood all of a sudden after more than an hour spent cross-legged, or maybe not...

You force yourself to cross the room. "Who is it?" you ask in a deliberately questioning tone. You would recognize the firm, vaguely husky voice filtering from the other side of the door everywhere, even without the soft whisper of the name of his owner. A moment later you have pulled the handle towards you, and you and Mihawk are face to face, again after just a few hours, but suddenly you feel, and he looks, as if it everything had changed - as if you had.

"Hello."

"Good evening." Mihawk greets you; he is not smiling - if he ever did, you think, the world would probably stop turning on its axis "Is it too late? Am I disturbing you?"

"Of course not; please, come in."

He looks around him as you close the door, unhurriedly examining the weapons on the bed, the folded clothes on the tiny desk, the boots you have taken off as soon as you returned in a corner; and then he looks at you, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

You feel his gaze on the back of your head as you retrieve your weapons from the bed and neatly place them on the desk, except for the derringer, which is simply moved to the bedside table; you haven't been anywhere, not even in the privacy of your own room at home, without a loaded gun within easy reach ever since you were ten, and you don't intend to start now.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." you invite him, and a moment later Mihawk is sitting next to you on the bed, Yoru resting against the wall, and you feel yourself smiling softly at him, still unbelieving you are actually here - with him.

As you dined (and wined; you immediately stop drinking alcohol after one of your trysts, well aware of the dangers for the baby you each time hope has been conceived in your womb, but the only silver lining to getting your period once more is that you can start again, if only to drown your sorrows) you had started regretting involving Mihawk in your plan. While it is true that you're tired of sleeping with men you don't even know, much less like, and that any child would be lucky to inherit his gifts, the choice of an acquaintance as a donor is potentially even more complicated; first of all, he is aware of what you plan on doing, which means that it will be next to impossible to fully exclude him from your child's life, should the need arose. One of the reasons you are an excellent mercenary is that you are resilient and stubborn enough to follow your quarry to the other end of the world and back, without giving up until your bullet is in their brain or heart and their bounty in your pocket, but you know no one and nothing, barring perhaps death, could ever keep Mihawk away from something he is keen on. You are more than willing to let him be part of his child's life, and you don't think he would ever hurt them, but still, who knows what could happen...

And then, there is another reason, one it is hard to explain logically. What had become as a simple business proposal (this is what you had intended it to be when you spoke to him, you could swear it on your mother's life) has quickly become something else, something more delicate and less rational, all of it in the few minutes you and Mihawk spent discussing it, and then later you couldn't help reflecting about it, wondering what he thought about your proposal and whether he would accept it, as you enjoyed your dinner.

Having a child with Mihawk... and more specifically, Mihawk putting a child inside you. You have forgotten (it has been a mistake, a simple and natural failure to recall a relatively small detail during an already complex discussion. You didn't do it on purpose!) to tell him there is no need for the two of you to sleep together, artificial insemination is a common occurrence nowadays and the doctors on your island are more than capable. It would be much easier the other way, but honestly, you hadn't meant to suggest... to give him the impression that you wanted to...

You chided yourself for your forgetfulness, in case that was actually a dealbreaker for him and Mihawk would not think to propose a less invasive procedure himself, and then... and then it was as if you couldn't stop thinking about it, thinking about him... and how it would be, what it would feel like. You'd have nothing against it... quite the opposite, actually, you realized as you emptied the wine carafe on your table and asked the waiter for another.

Mihawk is an attractive man. Extremely attractive, actually, especially if one looks beyond the menacing look, deadly reputation, and the huge sword on his back (or, if one is actually attracted by that sort of man. You might.. not not be.) to notice his elegant and athletic figure, the chiseled features of his face, the well-styled beard and hair... even his eyes are exceptionally beautiful, that deep, penetrating yellow gaze that actually reminds you of a bird of prey. You have no idea whether he has a partner or not, but you'd be ready to bet he doesn't lack in admirers... even though approaching him would require no small amount of courage.

You have known him since you were barely more than a girl, and met him regularly for years, and you have never thought about him like that, never even realized how handsome he is. Or rather, you were aware of the fact (after all, you are not blind!) but somehow subconsciously, never paying attention to the fact. You have already slept with many partners you were not attracted to and you could easily do it again, Mihawk' strong body and swoon-worthy face change nothing, but... but...

Who knows what kind of lover he is, and he would be with you. Generous, attentive to his partner's pleasure as well as and maybe even before his, or egotistical, the sort of man who doesn't even look at you in the eyes and tries to avoid even kissing you? What is his favourite position? Your guess would be something that allows him to be the dominant part in the rapport, given his forceful personality and no-nonsense attitude, but for so many people the face they show to the world is different from the way they live their intimacy, and maybe when he is with a partner (someone he trusts, someone he can be himself when he is with... why were you suddenly picturing yourself in that role?!) Mihawk likes to surrender control, to relax and let someone else take care of and decide for him. If he is with a woman (again, in the thoughts that had quickly become a full-blown fantasy, not simply any woman) does he like to be ridden, or to push her against a wall and lift her legs around his hips? Does he like to receive oral? Or... or... to give it? Does he grunt, moan, sigh, scream, his partner's name or to express his pleasure, or is he silent just like his normal taciturnity would suggest...? What does his body look like, under the elegant but austere clothes he favours? What does his...?

This, and much more, is what you couldn't help reflecting about at dinner, and then during the little walk you took to return to the inn, and even later, as you killed time with the upkeep of your weapons, those thoughts persisted in your mind, so much that you started fearing you wouldn't be able to fall asleep... or that you would go from thinking to dreaming about him.

Is this due simply to your proposal, and the fact that you did ask him to get you pregnant? After all there already is an emotional, no matter how distant, bond between the two of you, and you're still a sort-of-young woman with a heart and not a stone in her chest. Or were these feelings already part of you, hidden until you had reason to reflect on the fact that this business deal could actually turn out to be much more pleasant, not to mention complicated, than you had thought...?

Whatever the truth may be, the man who is the source, and the cause, of your emotional turmoil is now sitting next to you, on your bed, to further discuss your proposal, and no matter how many times you have risked your life since you were just a girl, no matter the coldbloodedness you have acquired during your years as a mercenary, no matter how many men you have slept with since you were sevevnteen, you are trembling, like a young girl before her first kiss, and suddenly you are not sure what would be better, if he refused your proposal... or if he accepted it.

Because of the baby, and not only that.

You have remained lost in your thoughts for several minutes, which is perhaps deplorable when someone has come to talk to you, but Mihawk seems fine with your silence; actually, he looks as pensive as you feel.

"I thought about your... proposal." he finally says "And I'm willing to accept it, provided you agree with my conditions. I'll give you a baby, or at least I'll do my best trying."

A hundred other men would have accompanied those words with a saucy look; a thousand others would have blushed, or stammered, or betrayed embarrassment due to the delicate, intimate nature of the deal they are accepting. Not Dracule Mihawk; he looks as rational and dispassionate as if he were buying an umbrella during a sudden downpour to discard it as soon as it stops raining, something he needs to do but he is relatively unconcerned about. And once more, you're not completely sure how that makes you feel.

What you know, is the answer he deserves. "Thank you. I... Thank you so much. I am truly and deeply grateful, you don't know how much this matters to me." you say; you are not stammering, but you know he can hear the depth of the emotions filling your heart in your voice: happiness, gratitude, relief, and trepidation. All he can do is try, there is no guarantee he can actually get you pregnant, and the list of failed attempts you have left behind you is as long as your arm, but still, you have a good feeling about it... and even if the two of you failed, you feel suddenly sure you won't consider it a wasted effort "You spoke about conditions. Tell me everything."

Mihawk's first request is to keep his involvement in the conception of your child a secret; in other words, nobody has to know he is the one who got you pregnant, not even the child themself, at least for a while. "Even though I am technically an ally of the World Government now, I have a certain number of enemies in the world, people who could try to hurt me or lure me out through those closest to me. I have no doubt you would do everything you can to protect your child, but I'd feel safer if no one knew. Unless, of course, this would be cause of... embarrassment for you, on your island..."

"It won't be." you assure him; many at home will undoubtedly be curious about the identity of your child's father, but the law says your heir must be a child of your blood, without any particular requirement about the other parent, so that won't make any difference "I promise I'll keep it secret, if you wish. Anything else?"

Mihawk's second request is even simpler: for you to immediately tell him whether you are pregnant or not, as soon as you know for sure. He is a patient man, but since the matter you are discussing about is particularly delicate, he'd rather not be left wondering.

"Of course. It will take about a month, you can probably guess why; should I miss my period, I'll go to my doctor, and then I'll inform you of the results, whatever they are."

"Very well."

Silence falls between the two of you, and you're suddenly aware of the still purely platonic, but somehow compelling intimacy surrounding you: you're alone, for the first time in the many years of your acquaintance, sitting on a bed, discussing about matters that concern you both deeply. Mihawk looks as relaxed and in control as ever, so maybe for him this is simply a favour he is doing you and an investment that could come in handy one day, or maybe not, you think as you search for something, for an emotion of any kind, in his beautiful yellow eyes, and could swear you actually find it, maybe that is simply a facade he is used to present to the world, and in the privacy of his heart, he feels exactly as you do...

"Anything else?"

"Not on my part, no. I'm sure you will be an excellent mother, and I don't need to ask you to take care of them. I... still haven't decided how involved I will be in the child's life, I hope this is not a problem."

It isn't, since you will be happy with whatever he decides to do, as long as he does not object to you raising the child on your island.

"So... shall we?" Mihawk asks; the flash of emotion in his gaze is brief, but you see it (maybe he has let you?) and a smile blossoms on your lips.

"We shall."

You quickly take off your shoes, while Mihawk stands to take his hat and then his coat off, leaving them neatly placed on a chair.

"I forgot to tell you." you begin once more, after more than one silent moment spent staring at his naked back "We don't necessarily have to... to do it the old-fashioned way, if you'd rather not. We could... go to a doctor..."

Mihawk grunts as he bends to unbuckle his boots; again, you find it impossible to avert your gaze. "I will not give a stranger a vial of my seed, as if I were a stud bull." he states "It is barbaric. There is nothing wrong with the natural method."

You silently agree. A moment later, he's back on the bed; he lets you look a him, and he looks back while you unhurriedly take off your dress, exposing the bra and underskirt you wear underneath.

"Very beautiful." Mihawk says, as if he were talking more to himself than to you; you smile.

"You'll make me blush."

"You are an attractive woman, I sincerely doubt I am the first man to pay you a compliment. The other... donors you selected, for example. I'm sure all of them felt exceptionally lucky."

There is no trace of mocking in his voice, let alone of blame; still, those words are enough to make your smile disappear. "They did not matter."

"While I do?"

"You do. You know you do. We have known each other for so many years, and I know we are not... friends, exactly, and I could always close my eyes and think about something else, but you don't know how... how dehumanazing it is to... well, to feel nothing for the other person..."

Mihawk nods. "I know the feeling." he says, and then, in response to your incredulous look: "I have been young as well; and I've made mistakes, like everyone."

"I'm sure you were the only one to think so."

"Hmmm..."

For a whole minute, you are both content looking at each other. Finally, Mihawk's raised hand brushes against your face, and you close your eyes, savouring the warmth of his fingers against your cheek. You take his hand, and let it guide you as you stand, close the brief distance between you, and rest both of yours on his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you sit on his lap, your thighs open to the sides of his clothed legs.

Mihawk's eyes move on your body; you can't stop looking at him either, and so you feel, rather than see, his strong and elegant hands rest on your hips, gently caressing them above the light fabric of your underskirt. You can feel his breath on your chest; he can feel you hold yours when you rest your hand on his cheek and then let it slip down his body, the well-toned physique (he is much less burly than other pirates and fighters you know, but his muscles are solid and defined, as you expected... and even a little more), the pale, smooth skin, except for a thin line of hair on his lower abdomen that your fingers follow down to the waistband of his pants, and that is when you hear him grunt.

"Shall I stop?"

"Do not mock me, woman..." he growls, but he's enjoying your ministrations and doesn't bother to hide it. "Take this off, now."

This is your bra, which you obediently remove; you sigh, kissing his dark hair and temples and any inch of him you can reach, as Mihawk, whose arms have circled your waist and who is now holding you tight against his body, begins licking your chest, the sensation of his lips on your skin sweet and delicious beyond words. Soon, you are moaning his name, gently rocking against the turgescense under you, and you hear him whisper your name before he quickly but gently turns, pushing you on your back on the duvet while he kneels above you.

He sighs, relief evident in his tone, while you relieve him from his pants, lowering the fabric to his knees. He returns the favour lifting the hem of your underskirt, but when you move to take off your panties

"No." he stops you, gently resting his hand on yours "Please, keep them on."

A minute later you are locked in an embrace, your leg lifted around his hips, Mihawk's hand caressing you between your legs, gentle, confident, inexorable, until he feels you are ready for him, and he shifts to press the centre of his body against yours.

You lock eyes; for a brief, precious moment, it is as if the distance between the two of you had melted like snow under the sun, leaving you the two parts of a single, hot and quivering being.

"I don't know if I can actually... do what you want." Mihawk whispers; his hips press against yours with the desperation of a man living his last night, but he sounds regretful, as if saddened by the possibility of disappointing you "I... want to, but..."

Of all the emotions you expected to feel for Dracule Mihawk, tenderness was the last of the list; still, you do, a sudden, powerful surge of empathy that makes you desire this night would never end... and that it weren't your last, as well as your first.

"An attempt." you murmur, before claiming his mouth in a new kiss "That is all I ask."

He gives you three.

*****

You wake early on the following morning (like you expected Mihawk to do as well, since he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who likes to sleep in; on the other hand, you did exhaust him last night...), but you linger a bit before getting up, as you observe the man sound asleep next to you. He is lying on his side towards you, an hand hidden under the pillow, the other reaching out towards you.

He is so handsome - no, he is rapturously beautiful like this, tranquil, at ease, not exactly smiling but serene, as if he were in the middle of a beautiful dream; the azure sheet covers him up to his hips, letting the first sun rays of the day caress the naked skin of his arms and chest.

You feel as if you could spend the whole day like this, just admiring him; but sooner or later he will wake up, and then you could stay in bed for a little more, attempting again or just cuddling, savouring that new intimacy that feels so natural, so genuine and true, even though nothing in your relationship until last night could suggest this could be born from it. But it has, and it is a gift you will keep in your heart forever... as a cherished, now-distant memory; because no matter how desperately you wish you could stay in that little paradise you have created together for a little more, you can't... and, in your heart you know for sure (or you think you do; the truth couldn't be more different, but you haven't learned to read his heart, nor he to express his feelings. Yet.) Mihawk doesn't want to, no matter how enthusiastically he made good on his promise last night. You didn't even know a man could last so long, and hearing him growl your name was enough to push you over the brink...

Still. He has done what he had promised you, and expecting more, expecting other, is naive and even dangerous, because the last thing you need now is to have your heart broken. You know Mihawk respects you and maybe even considers you a sort-of-friend, and not to brag, but you are confident you have given him the best night of his life... but letting that rapport evolve, pursue a relationship, whether romantic or even simply sexual? That's another thing altogether, one you know he won't be interested in.

(Again, you don't, and he would).

You shouldn't even consider thoughts like these. Since when have you thought about Mihawk like that? You are well aware of how attractive he is and are genuinely fond of him, yes, but when did you start wanting more than a casual friendship with him? Probably you don't, not really, it's just that the amazing night you have spent together and all the talking about the baby made your most emotional and romantic side emerge, as if you were still the young girl who thought two people could not experience pleasure, let alone reproduce, without being madly in love with each other. The truth is obviously different, and in a few days, maybe even as early as tomorrow, you will realize how naive and shallow your desires are, born from passion and the hope to see your dream come true. You don't really want him, you just... think you do, because you shared something amazing last night and you know he'd be an excellent father for your child. That's all; and he wouldn't want you in any case. You did what you agreed to, and now you better leave as soon as you can, to avoid the classic, unavoidable embarrassment of the morning after.

This is why when finally Mihawk wakes up, twenty minutes later, he finds you already clothed and ready to go, busy sliding your weapons in their holsters or hiding then under your clothes, your faithful derringer by your side once more.

"Hi." you murmur softly as you sit on the edge of the bed, your hands naturally, instinctively finding the one he has moved towards yours "Are... are you ok?"

"I am. You?"

"Fine. It... it was nice, wasn't it?"

He looks at you, veguely ironic; do you really need to ask?, his lovely yellow eyes seem to ask, and you can't help a small laugh.

"You are leaving, I see." Mihawk adds after a moment, his tone expressionless. He is looking at you as if your clothes were still scattered on the floor, just like he did last night; he sees you blush, and he smirks, but after a moment he turns serious as usual - even a little more sombre, you would swear.

"I am; after all Garp gave me a new assignment yesterday. The first ship for my next destination leaves in half an hour, but you can stay, if you want, I have rented the room until midday."

"There is no need, I have things to do as well."

He gets up, without bothering to hide what you have had time to look at, and to touch and to kiss, as much as you wanted last night, and retrieves his clothes. He has turned his back to you, and you wonder if it is deliberate, because he has already lost any interest he could have in you, because he is already regretting what you did together, or maybe because he is grappling with emotions he doesn't know how to process, and trying to find the words to express them, to ask you...

No. It's impossible. Stop thinking about it and focus on your next assignment. You did everything you could, now you can only pray it worked.

Five minutes, and you're both ready to go; you look at Mihawk as he places Yoru on his back, and you wring your hands, suddenly shier and more unsure than you have ever been in his presence.

"Mihawk?"

He doesn't answer, but he turns, his face slightly tilted on one side in an inquiring manner. He looks so much like a bird when he does that, you think, amused; like a bird of prey... a beautiful, deadly hawk.

"I... I wanted to thank you."

"There is no need..."

"Yes, there is." you quickly interrupt him; you need to tell him, and you need to do it now, otherwise you will lose courage "I... I have been wanting to become a mother for a long time; it's the thing I want the most in the world, and not simply because my island needs an heir for when I'll be dead. It's... it's more important than I could explain, and I've been disappointed so many times and there is nothing I can do but hope and pray, but... call me crazy if you want, but I have a good feeling about this. About you. I... I think we did it, even if it will take time before I know for sure. And I'll be happy to have your child."

Mihawk nods. He is standing right in front of you, close enough he could touch you without even reaching out, but suddenly it is as if you were standing at the opposite points of the Great Line, the unmade bed next to you a suddenly uncomfortable remainder of your nightly activities. "Remember your promise."

"Of course; I will inform you as soon as I have seen the doctor, whatever the result."

"Good."

Pause. "(name)..."

"Yes?" you ask, intimately happy to break that uncomfortable silence, the first in the many years since your first meeting. This is something you have always liked about Mihawk; with him, you never feel the need to talk, but you can feel content with his solitary presence next to you. Still, it has never been so hard to say good-bye... "What is it?"

He hesitates (something you are probably the first to witness, or at least to live to tell) as if unsure about what he wants to say, or about the words to use; he looks at you, and you hold your breath, because for a split second you are sure, you just know, that what he is about to say will change everything, because it is not all in your mind, something has changed, after last night or because that moment of intimacy made you both realize your bond was much deeper than you knew...

"I need to give you my number. To call me."

Disappointment explodes inside you. You feel... mortified, as if you had ended up naked in the middle of the public square; your little infatuation will without a doubt disappear in three days at most, but for now, it hurts as if you had been stabbed. Stupid, romantic girl, an unpleasant voice whispers in your ear; what did you expect? Did you really think he could care about you that way?

"Oh. Oh, right..."

A moment later, a slip of paper with Mihawk's contacts is safe in your pocket, and he is neatly placing his feathered hat on his head.

"It is. Be safe. I mean, I know I don't need to tell you..."

"You don't." he easily recognizes "And I don't need to tell you, but I will; remember that perhaps now you have someone else to think about as well. Good-bye, (name)."

A smile, small but sincere, and a brush of fingers against yours, accompany that greeting a moment before Mihawk leaves, and even though you awoke first and meant to depart before he could notice your absence, you are still there, alone in the sunlit room, suddenly too saddened and wistful to think about the child who might be growing in your womb.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: My hissy fit has subsided. I still haven't read through this but it was spell checked. Mostly.

C/W ::: ChubbyF!reader, 2.3 seconds of voyeurism, oral sex M > F, P >V (unprotected because why not and don't @ me either, please. This is all fiction.), sick humor.

PART II

Part I SFW ::: Dating THE fucking Katsuki Bakugo

NSFW date with THE fucking Katsuki Bakugo

The two of you started to run back to his Jeep. About halfway there he slipped on the wood walk and fell flat on his ass in one of the biggest puddles you've ever seen. You stopped running as soon as you heard him swearing endlessly. Though you didn't see it happen, you can imagine how he went down.

You helped him up and he struggled along for just a little while. His butt hurt from landing directly on the tailbone but he was able to still make it the rest of the way without much trouble.

Despite the torrential downpour, again, he opened your door first. Somehow getting even more soaked. While you tried your best to be dainty and climb in gracefully, you ended up slipping on the floor mat and nearly bashing your face on the dashboard. He was ever patient with you, though he did chuckle at the shit that went wrong, all brought on by the storm.

Once he opened up his door and got inside, he was breathing almost harder than you were. And he was the hero in great shape. It never would have occurred to you that he was breathing heavily from the kiss. His breathing had nothing to do with running full steam ahead to his parked car.

Sitting there in stunned silence as the engine warmed up and the windows defogged, you noticed the hair on his head lay flat as it dripped down onto his saturated shirt. Your mascara ran down your face. Lipstick was smeared on your faces.

Both of you started to talk at the same time. That went on for a few seconds while you each insisted that the other can speak up first. Finally, you reached over and put your soft little hand over his mouth so you could say something.

"Thank you for today, Katsuki. I - I had a really ... a really nice time." You smiled sweetly and shyly at him. Blinking your eyes exaggeratedly. Partially because the make-up that was running down into them burned like hell and because you had to keep reminding yourself this was real. You weren't dreaming of being out with him.

He lifted his hand to yours and pulled it down slowly, letting it rest in his lap. "You don't wanna call it a day? Do ya?" He didn't look disappointed so much as he looked like he couldn't believe you were tapping out so early. That snarl sat on the corner of his lips. Just begging to be softened out.

It was still early in the evening and you couldn't come up with a good enough reason that you two should split ways. You would spend the whole weekend with him if that were possible. But today was his only day off for a while and he was kind enough to spend it with you.

"I mean," you started. "It is still fairly early. Do you want to drop me off and we can push pause while we're getting dry and changing clothes?" I'd be happy to meet you anywhere, I'll drive to you. Anywhere." You kicked yourself for making it a point to say that you'd go anywhere for him. Twice. But he didn't seem too fazed by it. If anything, it seemed to have made him smile.

"You got an extra bathrobe and a dryer? I'm cool coming back to your pl- oh! Shit, I mean, if you're ok with that. Didn't mean to be presumptuous there. Sorry, shit. Sorry." He scratched the stubble that was already growing in his face.

How was it, everything he did made you want to kiss him. You never wanted to breathe again if it meant your lips could be connected to his for the rest of your life.

"N-no! I - I'd really like that. Katsuki?"

"Mmm?" He grumbled as he forced his hair back from his face. "Goddamn hair. What's that, y/n?"

"I might have some sweats that'll fit you, that's all. Let's go back to my place and figure it out."

He put the car in gear and drove through the lessening rain to your place. Bonus points because he didn't need directions to get back there.

20 minutes or so later, you were unlocking your door and quickly surveying the area for anything that may have been accidentally left out. Nothing stood out to you so you were able to relax a little.

"Do you want anything? Besides dry clothes and a towel for that ..." you gestured around your head and pointed at him. "You can go ahead and change in the bathroom. There's a robe on the back of the door. I'll be in my room changing and grabbing you whatever I can find. Unless you want the robe until your clothes are dry? Washer and dryer are in the garage. I'll take your stuff out there for you. Just sit it in the hallway outside of the bathroom door."

He stood there, a little bit like someone who didn't know what to do first. So you turned on the bathroom light for him and told him to go ahead. You wandered down the hall to your room and began peeling your stuck clothes from your cold body.

"You can turn the heat on if you want. I know I'm freezing. Thermostat is to the left of the TV. Just push the mode button twice and it should kick on. Thank you!" You hollered.

He stood in the doorway of the bathroom mesmerized by you. The door had fallen open just a few inches after you thought you'd kicked it so that it at least met with the jam.

Watching you unbutton the front of your dress was a slow torture for him. You seemed to be in no hurry when slipping it from your shoulders. Standing there in your poorly lit room, there was no way he could tear his eyes from your body and how it perfectly filled out the light green lingerie you were wearing.

Katsuki started to reach for the doorknob but misjudged how close his hand was and ended up hitting it with his knuckles. You threw your arms over your body as best you could, but they could only cover so much with how exposed you are.

"Gah! You ... *aheh* you scared the hell out of me. I'm not used to someone else bein' here and ... do ..."

He pushed the door open the rest of the way and started to walk toward you. His heavy clothes clung to his body showing off his chest and arm muscles. You wanted to pinch yourself again. How can someone so fucking hot be in your room right now.

You swallowed hard and looked at the floor. "Do you need ... someth-" Katsuki put his middle finger under your chin and lifted your face to his. His brows furrowed and he nodded slightly. Your lips parted and let a shaky breath pass through as he looked over your body. Running his hands from your neck down to your shoulders, to your waist and pulling you close to him.

He was so cold you could almost feel him shivering. Burying his face, he ran his nose over the delicate skin of your neck. You could feel him smiling against you. His hands wrapped around your waist, holding you against his body.

"You're fucking gorgeous, you know that? I've been staring at you all night and trying to keep my thoughts to myself. But fuck, you're too damn beautiful. And I want you. God, I want you so bad." He whispered into your ear as his lips grazed the lobe.

You gasped at his words, feeling his breath against your cheek. "I want you, too. I want you, Katsuki." You managed to say before he pressed his lips to yours.

His kiss was urgent and filled with desire. His hands ran up and down your sides, touching every part of you that he could. Squeezing the fat on your ass as he pulled you up closer and closer to him.

Your hands wrapped around his neck and you felt the muscles in his shoulders twitch under your touch. He moaned into your mouth and started to move you toward your bed.

As he pushed you back onto the mattress, he slipped off his wet shirt and you could see his body. Every divot and crease of his chest and abs and arms. And his waist. It was quite possibly the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

He was the polar opposite of you. Your body was soft in the most luxurious way. He was hard and tight and muscular. And it made your heart race.

Katsuki reached for the waistband of his pants and started to pull them down slowly, inadvertently teasing you as he moved them over his hips. Never taking his eyes from yours. He smirked and turned his head to the side. That fucking snarl. It was sexy and dangerous and you just wanted to grab it with your hands and hold him there forever.

"What the ... w-what are you doing, Katsuki?" You asked.

He shrugged his shoulders and kicked off his pants. "Getting ready for a shower?"

"Why are you not taking your clothes off in the bathroom, then?" You whispered, barely audible.

He leaned over you, placing his hands on either side of you and kissing your lips. "I don't have any extra clothes here. I'll just take them off here. I'll get in the shower and you can throw these in the dryer for me, yeah? Thanks." God he was cocky. Even more so with his cock out.

"Oh, but you ... I ... *sigh* Fuck. What I'm trying to say is that I can wrangle up something for you. I-if you want." You sounded like you had a sudden onset of a serious impediment of sorts. Talking to him while he was completely naked and dripping wet was making you dumb. It was embarrassing. But you couldn't look away.

You reached for his waist and pulled him to you. His skin was so cold. You could feel him shivering against you. "Do you need me to warm you up? Katsuki? Is that it?"

He shook his head, no. "I need you to do something else for me right now. Something that requires both of us being completely naked. So get out of those fucking clothes. NOW!"

You did as he said and he helped you slip off your bra and panties, throwing your bra to the floor and Katsuki took your panties and sniffed them. You giggled and pushed him away.

"Ew, Katsuki! What the fuck, dude!"

"What?! They smell like you. You smell fucking delicious. Don't 'ew' me for enjoying the way you smell, y/n. Ok, now. Let's get me warmed up and you ... warmed up for me."

He climbed onto your bed and lay between your legs. Kissing your belly and working his way down to your inner thighs. His hands explored your body as he touched every part of you. Squeezing and touching and feeling. He licked a stripe up to your neck as he laid on top of you. His full weight bearing down on you. You'd never felt anything so delicious in your life.

"Y/n ... are you, are you holding your breath? Are you ok?" He asked, resting on his wrists above you.

"Shit! I - may have forgotten to breathe. You just saved my life. I knew it would happen by the end of the date." Laughing, you turned your head to the side to avoid letting him see how red you'd turned from holding your breath and getting so aroused so quickly.

"Good save! Now, where were we? Right here." He reached for your thigh and pulled it up over his hip. He started to grind his hard cock against you, letting the head of his cock slip inside just a little bit, kissing your neck and whispering things in your ear that you had no idea you had such a physical need to hear someone say.

It was so hot. You were dripping wet for him. And he was rock solid for you. It was like you were made for each other at this moment.

"Katsuki, can we ... I want you." Your words came out as more of a whimpering plea than a question. But the message was clear.

"You in some kinda hurry, teddy bear?" He growled against your lips and rolled into your cunt. "Do you need some water? You keep swallowing really hard." His face softened, looking down at you.

"N-n-no. No w-water. Thanks, though." Reaching up to his face, you pulled him down by the cheeks and kissed him. Slowly at first. But the patience between the two of you was wearing about as thin as the string of saliva that connected your lips.

You pushed him over and climbed on top of him. Rubbing your wet cunt against his cock, you slid your hand between your legs and lifted your fingers to your mouth. Sucking on them until they were clean, you moaned and leaned down to kiss him.

"Oh, god, you taste so fucking good." Katsuki looked at you, amazed by what he saw. You were like a fucking dream.

You continued to rub against him, grabbing his hands and putting them on your tits. He raised his hips up to meet your body.

"Y/n, can you - fuck! Can you get on my dick before I fucking die?" His words came out strained and he sounded like he was about to burst.

"What's the magic word? Hmm?"

"P-please? Please. Fuck. Ride my dick, y/n." He flailed a bit and you had to laugh at his attempt.

"Th-that's not what I was talking about. But since you're going to be a good boy, I guess I'll ride that cock of yours." Sitting on him, you narrowed your eyes and smirked.

"Y-y/n. Fuh-huh-uckking hell. What do I nee- you know what. Fuck ... ugh, fuck this." He more or less shouted at you as he wrapped his arms around your shoulder and waist and flipped you over like you were some criminal that was running away from him.

"AH! Kats! I mean, Katsuki. S-sorry." You blushed.

"What'd you call me? Did you call me 'Kats'? Did you?" He stopped and looked at you for a second before kissing you softly, letting his lips linger for about 5 seconds.

"I ... yeah. I did. Is that not allowed? I'm sorry ... that was ... well, what was that?" You missed his lips already.

"No, I like it. I don't let many people call me that. So, but yeah. It's fine. It's good." He smiled, looking down at you.

"O-ok, then. So what are you going to do to me now?" You asked, biting your lip.

"Ohh-hoh, shit. Are you challenging me right now, teddy bear?" His voice was deep and rumbled when he said that ... and god, you almost came from feeling the vibrations in his chest against yours.

"Yes, Kats. Yes, I am challenging you. Now, fucking challenge me." You growled at him.

"Fuck! You're so hot. I've never seen you like this before. Y'know, the whole 3 other times we went out." He laughed at his little keen observation.

"Oh, there's plenty you haven't seen yet! Now, are we going to talk about all the shit we don't know about each other like normal people, or are you going to make it hard for me to walk to my car?"

His eyes went wide and he licked his lips. "Well, let's not get too too carried away now. Ok? Just relax and let me take care of you." He started to rub his cock against your pussy again. Then he scooted down so his face was even with your tits. He licked you from collarbone to belly button and then lifted your thighs so they rested over his wide shoulders.

You put your hands over your face and moaned something quietly into your palms.

"What was'zat? What'd you say?" He stopped, waiting for you to answer.

"I said, I wasn't exactly planning on this? I didn't - I'm not - ugh. I didn't prep myself? I guess?"

"Oh hell, sweetheart. I don't give a fuck if you got a pussy full of hair. I'm going deeper than that, anyway. Now. Relax f'me, teddy bear." He smirked at you and then dove his face between your legs.

Katsuki lapped at your clit with his tongue, pressing into you just enough to make your toes curl. Then he moved down to your opening and began to push his tongue inside you. He worked his tongue in and out, in and out. Alternating pressure and depth and timing. It was like he knew exactly how to make you come in record time.

You pulled at his hair and arched your back, lifting your hips from the bed. He reached his hands up and placed them on your tits, squeezing and massaging and pulling at your nipples.

"Kats, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fucking cum righ'nowww-oh my god. Fuck!"

He pressed his tongue flat against your clit and hummed as you rode out your orgasm against his face, "Mhm, mhm, mmmhmm, that's right, teddy bear. Use my fucking face!" You shook and writhed and moaned and screamed his name until you had nothing left to give him.

He climbed back up your body and looked at you with his lips wet and shining in the dim light of your room. "So fucking sexy. You know that?"

"Me? Look at you! God, Katsuki. You're gorgeous." You couldn't stop looking at his body. It was like a work of art.

"Ok, okokok. Jesus. Enough with that shit. Now, where were we?" He smiled and pulled your legs around his waist.

"Oh, yes. Right. Ok. Go ahead." You braced yourself for the sensation of his cock inside you.

It was like a warm hug. He filled you up and stretched you out just enough to make you gasp. You squeezed his biceps and pulled him to you. "Mmhuhh fffuckk, Kats, you feel so fucking good. You're so big. Your cock is perfect."

"Oh, shit. You talk dirty like that and I'm gonna fuckin' explode ... I mean, not you or anything but - but ..." you giggled at his nervousness. "Fuck. You ready? G'na start to move now." He kissed your cheek and you nodded.

He started to thrust into you slowly at first, making sure you were comfortable. Then he started to pick up his pace, pushing harder and deeper. His balls slapped against your ass and it made your eyes roll back into your skull. The the melodic sounds of the debauchery between you two as your bodies bounced back off of the others was the most sexy thing you've ever heard. Aside from his grumbly, mumbly voice, that is.

"Kats, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum again. Fuck, I'm gonna cum on your cahhh ffffuck, hngh!" You breathed heavily as he continued to pound you, feeling the familiar tingle in your belly. The warmth growing in your cheeks and your toes curl into the sheets.

"Ahhh, fffuck, y/n. You're so fucking hot. I'm gonna cum, hah ... I'm gonna cum in you - fuck - if you want me to. Or I can cum on you? You better hurry the fuck up and tell me what you wah-hant ... fuck, hurry up hurry up!"

You nodded and he fucked you like your lives depended on it. You both came at the same time. He leaned over you, panting and dripping sweat. He kissed your neck and your chest and your face, and you hugged him tightly.

"I - I know we haven't talked about ... I mean, we don't have to talk about it right now. But I need to tell you ... I'm not on any birth control. Isn't that exciting! We might have just created life!"

He sat up and looked at you. "The fuck did you just say, woman? You're n-not what now? You gotta fuckin' be kidding me. Jesus fuckin' chri-"

You were laughing so hard now your belly was shaking and your shoulders were bouncing. "Katsuki, I'm fucking with you. I'm totally fucking with you right now. Of course I am." You shot him with finger guns and he fell on top of you. His heart racing - either from the pregnancy terror or from the great sex you two just had.

He reached for your hair and ran his fingers through it. "You're a fuckin' asshole. You know that? I swear to god. I will never let you live that shit down."

You smiled and kissed his chest, "I know. And I'm looking forward to it."

Taglist ::: @arlerts-angel @millennialmagicalgirl @darkstarlight82

[rybonucleic-ket]

jack sparrow x male reader

because pirates were historically renowned gays and there's not enough fruity captain jack sparrow out there and jack's fucking hot

Captain Jack Sparrow x M!Reader

fluffy smut (pretty neutral language for smut, can be read by both cis and trans guys)

I will never use the term y/n in any of my writing if I have any say in the matter.

NSFW, 18+, minors dni

~~~

It's not uncommon for you to wind up in the Captain's quarters as night sets in. In fact, it's become a nightly routine. No ladies on the ship, you figured, the man's gotta get release somewhere. You're just glad he chose you.

Jack pulls you into his arms as soon as you close the door, burying his face in your neck, breathing you in. "Hey, love," he murmurs into your skin.

"Evenin', captain," you whisper back.

He hums against your neck, pulling you impossibly closer, bringing you flush against his chest. Just holding you, savoring your presence. That made you feel things. Well, Jack Sparrow makes you feel a lot of things, but loving, domestic touching made you hopeful. Hope is a dangerous thing. You were so sure that you were purely for release, considering the lack of women. There was no way the Captain could feel any different, you were a man.

"I do wish you wouldn't do that, Captain."

"Do what, sweetheart?"

"Hold me like that. it's not entirely fair for you to get my hopes up."

Jack pulled back to look you in the eyes, confused, still holding you. "Love, what'd ya mean? get your hopes up for what?"

"I know you only want me for the lack of girls, 's not quite fair for you to hold me so. bit misleading."

Jack laughed softly. "Darling, what are you on about? I've never seen a lady as beautiful as you. Don't go talking like you're some sort of placeholder," Jack smirked. "And I'm fairly sure you're just as smitten for me."

You scoff in mock offense. "That's quite presumptuous of you, captain."

He laughs, "Oh, is it now?" He scoops you into his arms, carrying you to his bed. "Well, since you're so sure I'd never fancy a man, guess I've gotta show you otherwise, savvy?"

You hum in affirmation.

"What's that, love? can't hear you." His voice is low, bordering on a growl.

You sigh at him. "Well, yes, captain, I s'pose you ought."

To your surprise, he simply hums and snuggles up behind you, kissing the back of your neck.

That fucker. you desperately wanted to cherish your wholesome little moment with Jack, but he'd riled you up, and if the tightness of his pants and the very slight, barely noticable way he was trying to restrain himself from grinding into you was any indication, he was as well. Captain Jack Fucking Sparrow for ya. Insufferable. Incredibly hot. Unbearably loveable.

You press yourself back against him, clutching at his hands around your waist, biting back desperation. "Jack, please."

"Please what, pretty boy?" You can feel him grin against the back of your neck. Fucking prick.

"I want- I need you. please."

Jack sighs dramatically. "Well, y'know, I was planning on just holding you in the way that makes you feel special, but uh," his voice drops, "I'd probably give you anything if you asked like that so.." his breath was hot on the side if your neck. "By all means."

He'd flipped you over to have you on his lap faster than you could say 'savvy'. His hand made its way to the hair at the back of your neck, guiding your head to give him easier access to your mouth. He grinned against your lips at the noise you made when he tightened his grip on your hair, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth across the flesh. He kissed you hard, occasionally whispering your name into the kiss. You relished the groan you got from grinding down on his lap; from your current position, it was obvious he was just as turned on as you were, bucking his hips up slightly to meet yours.

"fuck, Jack-"

"'M here, love. How'd you wanna take me, hm?"

"Don't care, you choose, I just- I need-"

"Yeah, sweetheart, I've got you." He gripped the back of your thighs, tilting you down until your back met the bedsheets, legs still wrapped around his hips. He gently parted your legs, the two of you gradually undressing each other between kisses.

He let out a sigh of awe once you were fully undressed. "Fuck, look at you, darling. Beautiful." he planted kisses on every inch of skin he could access. "I've no clue how you'd think you're a stand-in for anyone, such a pretty boy. Absolutely perfect, love."

If you weren't so incredibly turned on, the whimper you let out would've been embarrassing.

Jack saw your desperation as you fisted the sheets, and after getting the go-ahead, he set to work stretching you, making sure it'd hurt as little as possible. You writhed, back arching off the bed, moans escaping you that you could only hope the sound of the sea would drown out. Desperate, you pushed yourself back on his fingers.

"'m ready, please just- fuck, please, Jack."

Jack grabbed the oil from his bedside table, and you thought you'd never seen him lube up so fast

"oh fuck, Jack, please-"

He leans over you, tip pressed against your hole. "Please what, sweetheart?"

"please fuck me already, god-"

Jack smirks as he slides into you. "All you ever gotta do is ask, savvy?"

But the only noise you were producing were moans, strings of curses, and breathless calling of Jack's name.

As he picks up his pace, he practically growls in your ear, "Some day, I'll fuck you like this against the wheel of the Pearl. watch your back arch off the wood, into me." Jack brushes your hair out of your face. "Gonna love you so good."

As his thrusts grow more sporadic, Jack moans out a breathless "I love you." and that's what sends you over the edge. your vision goes white, your toes curl, your nails dig into Jack's shoulder blades as he spills inside you.

You're left shaking in Jack's arms, him running his hands through your hair, telling you how good you were for him. And that's how you drift to sleep, tangled with Captain Jack Sparrow, feeling more loved than you ever have before.

(it's on ao3)

[arcadekitten]

WISHMAKER RE-ANNOUNCEMENT! It's been a while, and since WISHMAKER has changed engines I thought I'd make a new little thread about it! (As well as some fun news near the end so stay tuned!)✨ (Click to read more!)

WISHMAKER was originally planned to be developed in Unity. Luckily I was still very early-in when Unity announced their controversial update. Even though Unity went and changed their changes eventually, I decided in the end that I felt most comfortable changing engines.

WISHMAKER is now being developed in RPGMaker MZ. Despite this, the game is still set to be a third-person point-and-click adventure game, & I can say pretty confidently it looks the part too! Nothing like my past games developed in RPGM!(not that that look is bad!)

While RPGMaker comes with its own limitations, it's also an engine I'm more experienced in. And because of that there's now things I'm excited to do in it that I would have never been able to do in Unity due to my inexperience! Silver linings abound! Most of my time spent in Unity was just trying to learn it, which is not a challenge I have now. I have already been making faster progress with WISHMAKER recently since I don't have the learning curve I did with Unity!

While I'm still not 100% on how releasing chapters will go, it is likely that each chapter of WISHMAKER will be separated into its own RPGMaker game (but all kept in the same space). This would allow chapters to be updated individually in the case of bugs, and also allow me to create each chapter without worrying of things like conflicting plugins/affecting something in an earlier chapter, etc.

Just like my initial announcement, I am a bit nervous announcing it so early in its (re)development. However, you all have been so kind and patient with me and I know you will keep it up and it means the world to me! And because of that...

NEXT SATURDAY I am planning to share a screenshot of the game! Even though this version of the game is still really early in development like I said, it has also been at least 3 months since my initial announcement and I KNOW people are curious, so I wanna give everyone a quick look into what it'll be about! And I'm also SO excited to show you just how much different it looks from the games I've made in the past and while I don't want to be too presumptuous, I have a feeling you're really gonna be excited for it!

With all that said, thank you all SO much for all the support on all my work! Changing engines was scary but you guys still kept patient with me and supported me and it really does mean a lot to me. I'm so excited to show you all I have up my sleeve soon! THANK YOU!❤️

[octuscle]

Merry Christmas! Or, er, Happy Holidays! Don’t wanna be presumptuous but I haven’t a clue what you celebrate, oh great wise Chronivac Support.

Aw why bother with niceties, you can probably tell I’m buttering you up. I’ll just get straight to it.

I live in the one campus dorm that’s right next to a frat house notorious for its wild, all-night parties. For most of my dorm mates, they love being so close to such a hotspot for booze and babes, but I—an eternally sober fruitcake— don’t really care for all that. Not to mention the loud music and flashing lights outside my window while I’m trying to sleep, god it drives me crazy.

Now, obviously I’m asking you to help me out, but I got a special request. Seeing as it’s the holly jolly time of year, I figured why not spice up my request. So, could you have one of their parties crashed by a real deal, mean Krampus? You know, Krampus, big, brutish, fuzzball that’s all about punishing naughty kids? You think you can have him punish those naughty frat boys and turn them into good little (or big, rather) musclebrats?

First of all, have a great holiday season too. I can't wish you a peaceful holiday season based on the information you've given me. I can understand you, but I don't really know how I can help you either. I'll send you a Krampus mask and a rod, maybe that will help with the next excess next door.

Bloody hell! It's Tuesday! In the middle of the week! Okay, maybe tomorrow is St. Nicholas Day, but that's no reason to make such a racket again. On the other hand… It's Krampus night. The evening of December 5th. There's no better occasion to put on the mask, grab the rod and really shake up the party in the house next door. You quickly put on a tracksuit and sneakers, put on the heavy mask, grab the rod and head next door.

The door is open. And step inside. Boozing and bawling frat boys are partying to loud music. And you see some of your roommates from your dorm. You shout "Krampus is here to punish the bad guys!" into the roar. And you start beating every jock who gets in your way with the rod. Nobody reacts at first. Then laughter. Then panic! Whoever your rod hits falls to the ground. You go into a sheer rush. Behind you, men lie on the ground with their limbs twitching, the drunken guys flee from you as best they can. But most of them just stumble over each other and make easy work of you. The big bell on your belt announces your arrival. You walk up the stairs with heavy steps. A few of the fugitives try to escape from the windows. A few barricade the doors. But no door can withstand your powerful step.

Apart from your own breathing and the music, nothing else can be heard. You pull the plug of the sound system out of the socket. Dead silence. The guys on the floor breathe peacefully and evenly. Another frat boy is hiding behind the sofa. One last strike with the rod. And your work on Krampus night is done.

Back in your dorm room, you take off your heavy mask. You're sweating in your heavy Krampus costume made of leather and sheepskins. The costume has been in your family for generations. Even your great-grandfather regularly took part in the Krampus runs in your home village in Salzburger Land.

Peace at last! "De verdammtn Gödln hom hodlt as kriagt, wos eana zugsteat!" you think to yourself as you finally take the costume off again and put it away in the wardrobe. And you fall into a deep and undisturbed sleep.

When your alarm clock rings at 07:00 the next morning, it's morning roll call in the fraternity house next door. The fraternity is known as the toughest training ground on campus. And home to the hottest guys. This morning they've been roaming the campus, stuffing candy and condoms into the good guys' polished boots. And now there are a few bare-chested push-ups in the snow. You love this sight.

You really couldn't ask for a better neighborhood.

Your pic found @hairysweatysmelly, the pic of the enhanced frat bros @nation-of-bros