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smoooothoperator · 2 months

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What Was I Made For?

16: Slow It Down

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: imposter syndrome, someone you loved made a little comeback

a/n: HELLO!!!!! How is everyone going??? I don't know if this is a good chapter, i kinda feel that it's a filler one, but I needed to write it and post it to take this out and continue with the story

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

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Charles Leclerc is a good lover. He knows how to soothe my worries, taking care of me in ways that make me feel cherished. At night, he wraps his arms around me, his hands warm against my belly. His soft kisses trail along my skin, each one a tender reminder of his love. As he holds me close, whispering sweet nothings, I feel a deep connection that goes beyond the physical.

He shows me every minute of the day what our future can look like.

And still, my mind was playing me tricks.

The day we announced the pregnancy, the internet went crazy. Not only because of the pregnancy itself, but because of what it meant: my retirement. None of us wanted to see our socials, deciding to erase the apps from our phones and focus on the present, focus on the last days he had to spend here before he had to leave to get ready for the new season. We barely got out of the property, not going to the village in case more paparazzi were around to take pictures of us.

"Are you sure you don’t want to come?" he murmured, lying next to me and resting his head near my belly. "The hotel's got a pretty nice spa. You could treat yourself all day."

“I know, I know…” I sighed, brushing his hair. “It's just… I hate going to the snow”

“Oh? Why?” he frowned, looking up at me, rubbing my belly softly.

“You don't remember?” I asked, surprised.

“No? What happened?” he frowned, sitting on the bed next to me, moving to wrap his arms around me.

“O-oh” I smile weakly, taking a deep breath. “In my second year in Haas, Mick and I decided to go to a training camp in the snow. Everything was going fine until one day our trainers suggested we take a walk outside. And those stupid ones apparently didn't know how to read maps, nor the weather radar. Well, they made us get lost and we were caught in the middle of a snow storm. We were out all night, frozen because of the snow. I had a pneumonia for a few days”

“Oh shit” he gasped softly. “I… I didn't know about it. How come you never told me?”

“Because at that time I hated your guts? And I thought you knew it, we were in the news” I laughed. “It was funny, actually. But after that I only go to the snow if I know I'll go just to have fun throwing snowballs and then going back to a safe place”

I nodded, letting go a long sigh and she held.me close to his chest. He rubbed my back softly, and I could hear his heartbeat, going fast.

“Say it” I sighed, rubbing his chest.

“During that time…” he sighed, and I closed my eyes, biting my lip. “You were with Mick when that happened?”

I sighed, swallowing thickly. He remembers… He remembers what I told him the morning after we woke up in that hotel room.

“Yeah” I sighed. “But we never dated. We were only friends with benefits. We…”

“Yeah, I understand” he sighed, nodding. His chin was on top of my head and I could feel the slow movement of his head. “You two were teammates in Formula 2, both in the Ferrari Academy. Spending time together leads to other things”

“Are you jealous?” I teased him, trying to erase the sudden tension that was in the air.

“He knew about my feelings towards you, Dafne” he whispered. “Jealousy is not the world. It would be betrayal, maybe”

“Oh…” I sighed.

“Mick and I share a few things” he sighed, playing with my hair. “I lost my father, and he feels like that too, even if his is not dead. We know what it is to not have our fathers in the garage supporting us. And it made us be friends, somehow. But… Yeah, maybe that's why he distanced himself, cutting ties”

“I'm so sorry, Charles” I mumbled, looking up at him. “I… I never knew. We only did it to erase the tension and stress of the races…”

“Hey, you really don't have to explain it. I understand it, I promise” he smiled weakly, but I just shook my head and cupped his cheeks. “Dafne…”

“It was because of me that you lost a friend” I sighed.

“The past is the past, Daf” he smiled weakly. “Now I have you. And I'm happy with that”

I smiled weakly, leaning closer to him and pressing my lips on his.

There was a little voice in my head, reminding me of everything he has done. A voice that tells me every sad thing, all the times he made me cry. A voice that reminds me that I'm not the only one that he had in his bed. A voice that counted slowly, reviving in my mind all the girls he had brought to the races.

“Remember how he humiliated you at your first win” a voice says. “How he called you a whore in front of everyone. You shouldn't trust him, he ruined you”

I tried to push away that voice, not listen to it. I tried to forget everything, to look at the present and think about the future.

“I have to get my suitcase ready” he groaned, but still kissed me deeply.

“You can do it while I make dinner” I whisper, moving closer to him, sitting on his lap.

“Yeah? What do you have in mind now?” he whispered, holding my hips.

“Taking care of my man” I smiled, feeling the little jump of my heart when I said those words.

“Your man?” he chuckled, looking into my eyes.

“I-I mean… Yeah?” I swallowed thickly. “I… Well, we… We are together, right?”

He smiled and nodded, kissing my lips again, showing me all the feelings he has deeply in his heart.

“Of course we are” he whispered against my lips. “What I wrote in my post was real, Dafne. I always wanted you”

I looked at him with a smile, feeling my heart melt slowly.

But again, that voice creeped into my thoughts, sounding like nails scratching on a chalkboard. I hugged him, hiding my face into his neck before he could even see how my smile got weaker.

“He might say that he always wanted you, but he still had many models in his bed” it said, with an evil smile. “Who knows, maybe he never changed. Maybe he still talks with those girls”

I hugged him tightly, closing my eyes and trying to think about his touch. As I watched Charles, a mix of emotions churned inside me. I wanted to trust him, to believe in the love he professed, especially with our baby on the way. But doubt lingered, like a shadow I couldn't shake. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that we were in this together. For the baby’s sake, I needed to find a way to trust him.

I sighed, pressing soft kisses on his neck, biting his skin softly and hearing him moan softly.

“Of course, mark him. Make sure the girls he brings to his bed know that he is taken” that voice laughed, making me feel shivers. “He's a cheater. A cheater. A cheater”

I pulled away, gasping softly, blinking slowly. Charles looked at me frowning his eyes, holding my hips. He was confused, just like me.

“I… I forgot I had to feed Athena” I said quickly, moving away from his lap and getting out of the bed.

“W-what?” he frowned.

“I had… I have to give Athena a pill” I lied. “I… Yeah”

I swallowed thickly, walking out of the room and calling my cat, somehow praying to be alone for some seconds.

I walked downstairs, standing in the middle of the living room. I took a deep breath, then another, then another.

I have to trust Charles. We were going to start again, we are going to raise a child together. He said he loved me since he was a kid, since the first time he saw me.

“That's not true” the voice smirked. “He's playing with you. Don't trust him”

I took a deep breath, gasping, trying to get away from that spiral of negative thoughts, of that impostor syndrome trying to come back to my mind.

“Dafne?” Charles frowned, making me swallow thickly and turn around slowly. “Love, what's wrong?”

I swallowed thickly, hearing the way he called me, watching his worried eyes scan my body. He walked towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders and moving them to hold my hands, squeezing them softly.

“I…” I sighed, closing my eyes when I felt his hand on my cheek, making me lean on his touch. “I just…”

He sighed, nodding slowly. I swallowed thickly, trying to read his face, his mind.

“Dafne” he sighed, smiling weakly.

“It's just… I want to be ready. I want to be ready to be with you. But I don't know if I am…”

“Oh, love…” he sighed, nodding. “L-look, I… I didn't want to rush things. I told you I was going to wait for you and I was talking seriously”

“I know” I whisper, nodding. “I don't want you to think that I don't trust you. It's…”

“You need to think. Alone” he sighed. “Okay”

“Okay?” I mumble, feeling scared. “W-what do you mean?”

“A week” he smiled weakly, bringing my hands to his lips. “I'll be in the training camp for a week. And you have a week to be alone, to think, to relax, to have time for yourself. It's partly my fault, I was attached to your hip this last month and maybe that's what rushed this situation”

“But…” I mumble. “Charlie…”

“My love” he smiled softly, making my heart melt. “This last month was the best month of my life, and I know we can work as an amazing couple. I love you, I really do. And I know you are working on it and I will wait patiently to hear you say those words too. A week is nothing, right?”

"He'll cheat on you," the voice in my head insisted, relentless and cruel. It echoed with every doubt, every insecurity, each word like a dagger. I tried to silence it, to focus on the love I felt, but the fear lingered.

“Yeah” I sighed.

I bite my lip and hug him tightly, breathing in his scent. His clothes smell like the fabric softener I use on the laundry, his skin smells like the shower gel of my bathroom. He smells like home.

“Help me make my suitcase” he whispered, kissing my neck.

“Hhmm” I hummed softly, closing my eyes and leaning on him. “Sure”

He held my hand tightly, walking upstairs and going to his bedroom, one he barely has been using since he started sleeping in my bed every night.

I sat on the bed, smiling softly when I saw Athena jumping on it to lay next to me. Charles grabbed his suitcase and opened it on the bed, chuckling when my cat jumped inside of it to get comfortable.

I followed Charles with my eyes, watching him fold his clothes and place them in the suitcase. And somehow, that made my chest ache and my eyes water. Something about this made me realize that every week will be like this: watching him pack a suitcase and go to races, while I had to stay here and be pregnant and alone.

“Are you okay?” he frowned, looking at me with worry, probably when he saw the tear that rolled down my cheek. “Dafne, hey…”

“Y-yeah, yeah” I swallowed thickly, rubbing my eyes. “Don't worry”

“Talk to me, come on” he whispered, sitting in front of me and holding my hand.

“No, it's stupid” I sighed, looking down at my belly, rubbing it. “I feel… I feel that my life is going to be like this for the next few months”

“How?” he smiled weakly.

“Watching you make a suitcase to go to the races while I have to stay here” I sighed.

“You can come to the races, Daf” he sighed.

“There will come a point when I'll have to stop” I sighed. “I'll get bigger, my legs and back will hurt, doctors say that is not safe for me or the baby…”

He clenched his jaw and looked at me, placing a hand on my belly and rubbing it softly.

“Our baby will come in June” he whispered. “And I will be either in Canada or Austria. I… There has to be a way… I want to be in the last months with you, Dafne…”

“Charles…” I sighed holding his hand. “Fred is annoyed enough with us… I can't let you get into more problems because of this. I can't let you lose your job…”

“If he dares to fire me then that's his problem” he laughed. “There are more teams that are dying to have me with them”

“But Ferrari…”

“Ferrari is my dream, yeah” he nodded. “But if they don't respect my family, why do I have to respect them? If Fred gets angry because I ask him for a few weeks to be with my family, then I can tell every media how he acted”

I looked at him, swallowing thickly. How can he be so calm with this? How can he be smiling like this?

“Don't trust him. He will abandon you. He will leave you for a model”

I closed my eyes, biting my lip and taking a deep breath.

I have to stop it, I have to stop that voice full of venom.

Alone, again.

Just me, my cat and the silence.

The day Charles left, he woke me up with kisses all over my body, whispered sweet words in my ear and my belly, promising to come back.

That morning, I saw him leave with my car, letting me keep his big car in case I needed it for other things.

That was three days ago. Three days I spent alone in the house, playing the piano, walking around the field, observing my own belly moving slightly with soft kicks and recording it.

Everytime I stand in front of a mirror I look at myself, scanning my body with my eyes, taking mental notes of how much it has changed. How much my breasts grew, how my belly is getting round, how swallowed my ankles look.

Charles keeps saying I'm the most beautiful woman he ever saw in his life.

“How many girls might have heard the same? He's prince charming, he flirts with all of them with sweet words”

I closed my eyes tightly, groaning.

At this point, I'm going crazy, paranoid.

A week. A week to think. To be alone. Literally alone.

My sisters listened to me, and with my recommendation, they found a place in the F1 Academy, ready to help young female promises of the sport. And now, thanks to that, they are busy working and getting ready for the upcoming season.

My parents, both of them working. My dad, traveling around the world thanks to his career as a pianist, and my mom working as a CEO in Monaco.

Sometimes I asked myself how my life would have been if I followed their steps, if my sisters and I followed their steps. I could have been a musician like my dad, since he always said that I had the talent for it. And my sisters, if they didn't follow me into my career, would have been working with my mom.

But now the one that is jobless is me, the one that inspired them to study something that could help me. The one that changed the path of our lives.

“Stupid. Stupid Dafne”

The basement of the house was warm, thanks to the sun that lights the living room. I looked at the kitchen, smiling softly when I fixed my eyes into the pictures that decorated the fridge, the first scanner we have of our baby, and the envelope that keeps the gender.

We didn't talk about a gender reveal again. He said he was going to talk with his brothers and his mom, but never talked about when we could make it.

“He doesn't want to do it, idiot”

“Stop” I groaned.

I heard her laugh. That laugh, my laugh. That laugh from when I didn't know I was pregnant. When I was happy, when I was untouchable.

I need to breathe. I need to get out of this house.

I had my breakfast out of the house, sitting on the couch and looking at the landscape, bringing memories into my mind.

I was happy back then, without worries, without trust issues. I knew what I wanted and how I wanted it. I didn't have to worry about guys, about dating someone, about him being loyal or not.

I was free. Free to do whatever I wanted.

And now, with 27 years, I am everything I didn't want to be. Pregnant, with trust issues, not knowing if I can trust the man I share a bed with.

“How pathetic” the voice, the old me, scoffed. “Look at you. That's what happens when you get your walls down. Stupid Dafne”

I closed my eyes tightly, taking a deep breath, shaking my head trying to avoid that devil in my shoulder.

I sighed, grabbing my phone and looking at all the messages, all the calls.

My friends called a few times. My mom, my sisters and my dad called too. Charles sent a picture of the views from his hotel room.

Sebastian sent a text.

“Everything would have been better if you stayed with him” she scoffed. “Sebastian was loyal, he never cheated. He even said he would buy a house with you. He would have done more things than Charles”

I swallowed thickly, reading the texts, trying to not answer them.

“I am loyal. Loyal to Charles. To the father of my kid” I said to myself, repeating it like a mantra, trying to fight that inner voice.

“Fuck” I gasped when I noticed I was calling him, panicking when he answered.

“Yes, go with him” the voice laughed.

“Dafne?”

“S-Sebastian” I mumbled, swallowing thickly. “I… I didn't want to call, I'm sorry”

“No, it's… It's okay” he sighed. “How are you? I mean… How's the pregnancy going?”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, laying on the couch and rubbing my belly.

“Yeah… Good” I sighed. “We saw the baby the other day for the first time”

“You know the gender?” he asked, making me bite my lip.

“No, no… not yet”

“Oh, okay” he sighed.

“Seb…” I whisper. “I… God, I don't even know why I'm calling you. I'm going crazy”

“Why? Hey, talk to me” he sighed.

“It's just… I'm trying” I sighed. “This month he has been staying in my house, and at the start I only wanted to put a pillow on his face while he was sleeping. But now…”

“Now you are giving up” he sighed. “Look… When he came to the hospital the day you had the crash, he looked really bad. He was panicking, Dafne. He was so scared of losing you and he was ready to fight whoever took you out of the race. He probably did it before going to the hospital”

“He wouldn't do that…” I sighed.

“He would” he laughed. “He would do anything to have your attention. God, he was even ready to fight me because I didn't let him get in your room! That man is head over heels for you, so what's the problem?”

“The problem is that I have this annoying voice that keeps repeating to me that he will cheat” I whispered. “That he won't be loyal, that he's just playing to keep me out of Ferrari”

“Did he do something to make you think that?”

“N-no… I guess” I sighed.

“Then? That's the imposter syndrome, Dafne” he said. “You can't accept your own happiness, even if it's with someone that hurt you? That man loves you. Just… Trust him. Trust Charles”

“Im trying” I sighed.

“Look, Dafne. I really appreciate you. You have been someone I cared for so much and for a moment I saw a chance for us. But he is your endgame. He always was” he sighed. “You two are meant to be together, no matter how many times you argue or fight. You two will find a way to be together”

“Seb…”

“Just trust him” he sighed. “Let your heart work for once. Give your heart the control of your decisions and stop making your brain work. I'm sure everything will be okay”

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and feeling little tears.

“I don't regret meeting you” I whisper. “I don't regret the time I had with you…”

“Me neither, Dafne. But he is what you need” he said, making my heart break a little. “I wish you everything good. Goodbye, Dafne”

I closed my eyes hearing the beeping, biting my lip.

Why can't I enjoy the present? Why is the past torturing me?

The day was warm. February started with a sunny day and birds flying around.

Today Charles was coming back home.

After some days of internal battle, I called him, trying to explain to him how I was feeling, trying to put words to my thoughts, opening my heart for him.

“I just… I'm so tired” I smiled weakly, trying to fight the tears that were threatening to fall. “You are giving me all that love, all that time and space… And the only thing I'm thinking about is if this is temporal. There's like a voice in my head making me doubt every move you made, making me remember everything you did to me”

“You know I never wanted to…” he sighed, and I could see the disappointment on his face.

“I’m losing control, Charles” I whisper. “I don't know who I am anymore. And this changes that happened so fast…”

“It's making you take steps back” he nodded. “Please, don't push me away…”

I looked at him, taking a deep breath. His mind was working, I could tell because he was chewing his lip nervously and sighing.

“I want my life back, Charles” I whispered. “I want my confidence. I'm looking in the mirror and I can't find myself anymore. I'm tired all the time, my feet hurts and my back too”

“My love…” he smiled softly, and again, the way he called me made my heart melt. “You are pregnant. Carrying a baby. Our baby. And I know this is happening right in the best moment of your career, that none of us are ready for this”

“We are not” I sighed, shaking my head.

“But we are working on it” he smiled. “Dafne, you are a strong woman. The strongest I ever met. You never let anyone step on you, what changed now?”

“That I'm letting my guard down, Charles” I sighed. “That the woman that loved to tease everyone, to joke and play was just a mask”

“But the little girl I fell in love with wasn't like that” he said. “The little girl was honest, and passionate about what she loved. She never gave up when something didn't work how she wanted”

“Well, I can't find her anymore” I whispered. “I feel that I'm drowning. And I'm so pathetic, because I started to feel this way right when we were okay, kinda. I let you lead me through this new life and now that I'm alone I feel that I'm going to lose control of everything”

“Dafne, take a breath, hm?” he smiled weakly, taking a deep breath. He laid his back on the head board, with a pillow on his back. “Breathe with me”

“I'm trying…” I sighed, closing my eyes.

“I'm going to tell you what we are going to do next, okay?” he said softly. “Tomorrow morning I'm leaving the camp. I'll go to Monaco because I want to cut my hair and my mom will do it. After that I'm going to go by plane to the nearest airport from the village”

“What about my car?” I smiled weakly.

“Your car looks so good near my car” he chuckled softly. “So in that way you can try my new car and come to pick me up to the airport”

“Charles…” I sighed, shaking my head.

“Let me talk, silly” he laughed. “Anyway, what I was saying… Ah, yeah. Well, I want you to go to the village this afternoon with the envelope of the gender”

“What?” I gasped.

“You heard” he smiled, winking at me. “I want you to go to that cake shop you always talked about and give them that paper. And when tomorrow we come back, we are going to stop in the shop and pick up the cake, bring it back home and then have our own gender reveal”

“But what about our families and friends?” I frowned confused.

“We can do that another day” he smiled. “But I can't wait anymore, Dafne. I couldn't stop thinking about that damn yellow envelope in the fridge door, about wanting to know the gender of our child…I even bought baby onesies here, you know? Oh, and one of those things the babies suck”

“A dummy” I smiled.

“Yeah, that” he chuckled. “And a beanie with ears”

“Oh Charles…” I smiled softly.

“Tomorrow we are going to have a date, okay?” he smiled. “So I want you to dress pretty with blue or pink, I'll do the same. You'll come to pick me up and we are going to find out together if we are having a little Charles or a little Dafne, yeah?”

I blushed, and somehow the panic that filled my veins for the last few days started to disappear.

“Idiot” I laughed softly.

“You can have all the fears you want, love” he smiled. “I'll be with you to help you go through them. I'll be the lifesaver you need to not drown”

“I don't deserve you” I sighed.

“No, Dafne. I don't deserve you” he sighed, smiling weakly. “After everything I have done… But I'm trying my best, I'm trying my best to redeem myself”

“You are doing a good job” I nodded.

The pink floral dress still fitted me. Thank God it was elastic on the chest.

Yesterday, after I ended the call with Charles, I did what he asked me, going to the village to leave the envelope to the baker and agreeing to go pick it up the next day.

Charles was landing soon in the Florence airport, only an hour away from the village.

I had everything ready, my bag was ready on top of the table. I cleaned the table from the backyard before getting ready.

Everything was looking good. I was less stressed.

“Athena, I'm leaving!” I said to my cat, hoping she would come before I leave. “Come on, you've been hiding all morning”

When I woke up this morning, I didn't see her. Normally she's sleeping in my bed or in Charles’. But she wasn't there.

“Thena!” I frowned calling her, walking around.

This is not good, the house was suddenly too silent.

“Thena, baby, where are you?” I called her again and again. “It's not funny, I really have to go pick up Charles”

No answer.

“Fine, sleep all you want” I sighed. “I'll come back soon”

I grabbed my bag and the keys of the car, walking out after looking back.

But there was something that wasn't right. Something, call it instinct, was telling me that there was something wrong.

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highdefhoetry · 9 months

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Behind the Blindfold, ch. 4 [Gojo Satoru x reader]

tags: NSFW!!! female reader, jealousy, possessiveness, marking/biting/hickies, penetration (penis in vagina), unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (vaginal), tickle kink, creampie, finger sucking, big dick, aftercare, exhibitionism, hair pulling, doggy style, overstimulation, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, post orgasm torture, size kink, size difference, reader is short, gojo is feral af and a bit sadistic

summary: after a big argument fueled by jealousy, gojo satoru is determined to prove you wrong.

word count: ~4,477

read part 1 here! read part 2 here! read part 3 here!

read on ao3 here!

“Hey! (Y/N), wait!”

Heavy footsteps echo behind you as you rush through the crowded streets of Tokyo. You push your way past unassuming people, simmering quietly as you make your stormy escape. You hear someone calling for you, but the sound of his voice only serves to ignite you further. You pretend not to hear and keep going.

“I said wait, god damn it!”

You dip into a nearby alley and find yourself at a dead end. Shit. The footsteps that had been following behind you for the last several blocks pause, and you sense a foreboding presence behind you. You swing around to glare at Gojo Satoru, who’s staring back at you from behind dark tinted glasses with an uncharacteristically serious expression. He had barely broken a sweat during the chase, despite how quickly he was walking to keep up with you. Your attempt to run away had been futile.

“You’re a real piece of work. You know that?” he rubs the back of his neck, rolling his head backwards from side to side. “How many times am I going to have to chase after you like this?”

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

Your voice is sharp and full of venom. He shoves his hands into his pockets, the corners of his lips turned down in displeasure.

“Calm down, firecracker. Why are you so angry all of a sudden?” he whines. “You’re more worked up than usual.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” you snap back furiously.

“Okay, okay,” Gojo puts his hands up in an act of surrender, letting his sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose. His radiant blue eyes peer over them, studying you intently. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so pissed off.”

“You know exactly why,” you spit back, trembling a bit from anger. “I should have known you’d pull something like this. I should have never gotten involved with you.”

“Huh? What on earth are you going on about?” annoyance begins to seep through his voice. “What the hell did I do?”

“I fucking saw you, Satoru. With my own two eyes.”

“Saw me what?” His volume increases, and you sense his own patience is wearing thin. “Spit it out already. I’m tired of this damn guessing game.”

“You were flirting with her! Right in front of me!” the tears you had been forcing back finally break through. You feel a few of them drip onto your burning cheeks and quickly wipe them dry. Your entire body feels hot. You hadn’t realized how agitated you had become. How he always managed to get under your skin was beyond you.

“Flirting with who? ” he pauses for a moment, tilting his head to the side with brows furrowed. “...Hold on a second. You mean the barista?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “I saw you take her number.”

You shoot daggers at his perfect face while he gawks at you, taking a moment to process your words. Then, his frown slowly starts to fade. A slow smile creeps across his face as he looks back at you with an incredible amount of satisfaction, chucking quietly in that low baritone of his.

That goddamn smile. It made it almost impossible for you to cling onto the anger.

Almost.

“Ah. I see what’s going on.”

He closes in on you, taking advantage of the fact that you’re up against the wall with nowhere else to run.

“You’re jealous.”

Lacking the energy to come up with a comeback, you simply cross your arms and scowl. He lets out a bitter laugh, shakes his head a little.

“Well, I can’t help that I’m ridiculously good looking and charming. It’s not something I can control,” he says, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. “But she’s not my type at all. I just accepted it to be polite. You know, because somebody is always on my ass about being nice to people?”

You scoff angrily, but a few seconds later, he pulls you into his embrace. He wraps his arms around your back, pulls you into his chest. It’s such a sweet gesture. You don’t have the heart to push him away.

“You don’t need to get all grumpy about it,” his velvet baritone melts in your ear, his breath tickles your skin. “I told you, you’re the only one I’m interested in right now. That’s why I asked you out on this date, no?”

He takes your chin in one of his big hands, then pulls your face up, forcing you to return his gaze.

“Have a little more faith in me. How many times do I have to say that I only want you?”

He leans down and plants a kiss on your lips, twirling his tongue with yours. You close your eyes, allowing the last tears you’d been suppressing to drip onto your cheeks. He catches them in his thumbs and wipes them away. You’re not fighting him, but still find it difficult to get into it. He senses your hesitation and pulls away.

“You still don’t trust me,” he furrows his brows again, looking a bit forlorn.

A tinge of remorse stings your heart, but you remain silent. He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets once more before backing away. He looks towards the sky as if contemplating something, pondering silently for a few moments, then turns back towards you with a stoic expression.

“You know, I’m a patient guy, (Y/N),” he finally speaks. His tone is darker, more embittered. “But even I have my limits.”

He narrows his eyes to glare at you intensely. The sight of him barely containing his unbridled frustration fills you with both fear and excitement. Your heart skips several beats; you recognize that look. You knew what this meant.

Those wild, insatiable eyes.

The way he’s purposely leering over you, a quiet reminder of your height difference.

He could ravage you as he pleased, take you whenever he wanted, as he’d done many times before.

And he was about to do it again.

Still at a loss of words, all you manage to do is stare back at him and watch as the sweet Gojo you’ve come to know becomes something sinister.

“What do I gotta do to prove myself, huh?” he towers over you as your back presses against the wall with that same crazed look in his eyes he had whenever he was about to take something, or someone, down. “Do I have to grovel at your feet? Kiss the ground you walk on? Tear my skin off so you can see me bleed for you?”

He slams his hand on the concrete wall beside your head and stares into your soul, locking those stunning baby blues with yours.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

You’d seen this side of him only once or twice, when the two of you were exorcizing a particularly difficult curse during one of your assignments. It was hard enough back then to focus on combat while you watched his fingers work their magic, curling and twisting as he used his jujutsu technique, reminding you of how skilled he was with his hands and how good they felt knuckle deep inside of you. His hair had been wild and unkempt as it flowed around his head. His eyes were fierce and untamed. His smile was wide and full of malice. He snickered as he worked, full of twisted pleasure as he tore the curse apart.

And now, his attention was solely on you.

“Maybe I’ve been too nice. Maybe I need to be a real bad guy for you to finally understand.”

Before you have a chance to respond, you feel one of his big hands wrap around your neck, holding you tightly in place. His grip is firm, but not painful. Your breath becomes shallow and frantic, and there’s nowhere to look but up. Your eyes meet his and his hands start to roam, slipping between your thighs to feel the warmth between them. His fingers touch your wet mound, then start to massage your swollen hood. He grins menacingly and lets out another dark chuckle.

“You like that, baby? You want me to be mean? You’re already soaking wet.”

His thumb traces your bottom lip, admiring its softness. You part your lips, inviting him inside, and he takes advantage of this invitation by shoving his thumb into your mouth. You wrap your lips around it, marveling at the taste and feel. It’s clean, soft, and a bit chapped from the dry air. Your mouth moves forward and backwards, reminding him of the talents of your tongue. His grin grows bigger, stretching his beautiful pink lips across his face.

When he can’t wait any longer, he pulls out his thumb and picks you up in a smooth, seamless fashion. He grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you into the air, pushing your back up against the alley wall while holding your legs at both sides of his waist. It happens so fast that you don’t have time to protest, to claim that you’re too heavy or that it’s too embarrassing. It’s like he’s carrying a basket of feathers; you’re practically weightless to him. Your legs dangle in midair for a second until they wrap around his waist as his thick, strong hands rest on your ass, cradling each cheek in his wide palms. There was no sign of strain or discomfort in his expression. Only an insatiable hunger, one that only you could feed.

God. He was so fucking hot.

“You want me to fuck you in front of her?” he growls into your ear in between the frantic neck kisses he’s peppering over your skin. “I’ll bring you back there right fucking now. I’ll show her how badly I want you.”

His mouth hungrily consumes you, his lips press themselves against every inch of your face. You’re caught between breathy gasps, sultry moans, and half-giggles. The sensations almost overwhelm you.

Your hand sneaks around to the back of his head and grips it tightly. His teeth sink into your neck, causing you to cry out and dig your nails in his skin. They wander upwards, scratching and clawing his buzzed undercut, and once again you are blessed with the sound of his sweet moans.

“Tell me who you belong to,” you demand, grabbing fistfuls of his silk hair, drunk off the beautiful, desperate noises he’s making.

“You,” he grunts while humping against your mound. He’s rock hard; it won’t be much longer until he forces it inside you once more.

“Say it louder.”

“You. I belong to you.”

“That’s right,” You cup his face, pull him in towards you until his lips meet yours. You whisper loaded threats in between each stolen kiss.

“You’re mine. All mine. I’ll fucking kill anyone who comes near you.”

It’s intense. Even you frighten yourself a bit as you voice your internal thoughts. But this is what Gojo Satoru has done to you.

“You’re scary, (Y/N),” he teases, laughing a little. “But it’s really fucking hot.”

You are starting to grow tired of words. Feeling brave, you run both hands through his hair, then yank it softly as you pull his head to one side. There’s a momentary look of shock on his face, but his confident grin quickly returns.

“Taking charge now?” he chirps.

You lean forward and whisper in his ear, mimicking all the times he’d done the same to you.

“I want the whole world to know you’re mine.”

It’s subtle, but you see him shudder as your words wash over him.

You begin to trail a path of kisses from his lips to his neck. Once you reach the smooth, blemish-free skin, you begin to suck, lick and bite ever so gently. He makes a sudden noise that’s shockingly high pitched before letting out a long moan. You hear his voice shudder as you do it again, alternating between tender kisses and aggressive bites. Each time you pull away, you look at his pale skin and see another red mark in the shape of your lips and teeth. But the other side looks bare. You gently pull his head to the left, allowing you access to the untouched. Your lips meet his skin once more, your teeth leave indents as you nibble and suck.

The sounds coming out of his mouth are heavenly. Like a chorus of angels warbling in the air. His voice flutters with every kiss, every bite, every new mark left that claims him as your own. His beautiful blue eyes roll back in his head as he makes sweet, fluttery noises, just for you.

“(Y/N)...” he murmurs, barely able to form coherent words. There was something oddly satisfying about seeing a grown man like him turn to putty in your hands. The greatest sorcerer in the world, brought down by neck kisses and hickies. And you were the only one who could bring him here.

You lose track of how many times you mark him, but when you’re finished, you trace each one with the tip of your finger. Admiring your work. Your marking has left him in a dream-like state; the only thing that comes out of his mouth is an airy, bubbly giggle. His skin quivers as your fingers trail across his neck. He’s just as sensitive as you are, if not more.

Your lips press against his, reawakening his desire. His hands grope your thighs. His fingers press deep into your skin, wanting to leave their own mark on you.

He can’t wait any longer. He sets you down, back on your feet. Wobbly hands grab your panties and yank them down your thighs. The hem of your skirt rides up, and you feel a rush of cool air between your legs. You suddenly remember you’re in public; your eyes dart around to see if any passersby are peeping at your lewd act. He notices this and laughs.

“Oh, are you feeling shy now?” he derides. “I forgot. You like your privacy.”

You start to talk back, but your surroundings change in an instant, and once again you find yourself in a totally new space far from the dirty, rancid alley. Gojo and his goddamn cursed technique. He just had to show it off whenever he had the chance.

You briefly glance around, and after a few seconds it dawns on you that you’re at his place. You’d only been there once or twice, but you recognize the smell of expensive cologne and the piles of black clothes scattered around the floor. The essence of Gojo Satoru.

He carries you to the couch and plops you down, then climbs on top to straddle you. He seizes your wrists, holds them above your head, then uses his free hand to poke and prod at your sides. It happens so fast, you have no time to prepare yourself for the electrifying sensations that shock your nerves. You scream, you laugh, you thrash around wildly as he torments your sensitive body more than ever before. All while cackling maniacally like some sort of evil villain.

“Satoru, stahahap!” is all you can manage to spit out.

“What’s the matter? You like this, don’t you?” he taunts, tickling you even harder. “I’m just getting you warmed up, sweetheart.”

“Stop, it’s too much! I can’t take it!”

“That’s right, baby. Beg for me.”

You feel like you’re going insane. He’s tickling you to madness, digging into your worst spots and tweaking your soft skin like he’s playing an instrument. Your laughter starts to sound like a hysterical melody. You’re struggling like hell to get out of his grasp, but the tickling has weakened you and eventually you resign yourself to laughing. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and he watches your futile attempts to escape with sadistic glee. You start to babble, pleading him for mercy, but all that earns you is more wicked laughter.

“You cryin’?” he taunts, wiping a tear off your cheek and licking it. “How cute. No mercy for you, though. I’m a bad guy now, remember?”

A moment of respite. You grovel, appeal to his sense of mercy, but in the end he ignores you and resumes his torment. His fingers dance across your ribs, following your body’s movements as you twist and turn. At this point you can’t even form words, and despite how much you’re shrieking and giggling it still seems like he’s laughing even harder.

You’re not sure how much time passes. It could have been a few minutes, or half an hour, or longer, but he finally lets up, allows you to catch your breath. You take deep gulps of air, still giggling lightly when you feel his hand rest on your stomach.

The momentary respite ends too soon. He slides his hands down your waist, rests them on your hips, taps them with his long fingers. The feeling makes you jolt, and the sight of you quivering under his touch amuses him further. He chuckles again, staring down at you with a crazed, feral look in his eyes. Your heart is thumping so loudly you wonder if he can hear it.

“Turn around.”

It isn’t a request. He doesn’t give you any time to decide whether or not you’re going to be obedient or defiant, quickly flipping you over so he can gain access to what he wants most. He grabs your hips again and lifts them into the air, forcing your face into the suede cushions on the sofa. You feel his soft lips press against your cheeks as they plant sloppy, wet kisses and love bites across the seldom-touched skin. You cry out softly, overcome with pleasure and just the right amount of pain. Out of nowhere, his tongue flicks your taint, making you squeal and buck your hips forward. You had not been expecting that. He simply pulls your hips back, slamming them against his own before licking the hyper-sensitive area once more. All while stroking his fingers up and down your sides, putting you in overstimulation hell. The sounds coming out of your mouth are inhumane.

Several minutes pass, and he finally decides he’s had his fill of your suffering. At least for now. Ready to be inside you, he yanks down his pants and boxers, throws them off to the side. They must have knocked over a lamp or something, because you hear a loud crash on the other end of the room. You turn your head to look, but don’t get the chance to see what it was. His hand pushes down on your neck, forcing you down once more while the tip of his cock pushes itself against your hole. You cry out when he shoves it inside. No matter how wet you are, his dick will always take you by surprise by its sheer size and girth. It feels so fucking good. It’s driving you insane.

The palm of his hand moves from the back of your neck to the lower part of your scalp. He makes a fist and pulls, softly at first to ease you into it, then with a bit more force. It forces your head back as he pumps his dick inside you over and over. It’s different from how he’s fucked you before. This time, there is no slow buildup or loving thrusts. Just him slamming his cock deep in your hole with rapid, deep strokes.

His other hand is gripping your waist, gently squeezing it every now and then to mess with you. Each time you feel that tickly feeling, your hole clenches around his member, coaxing more feral grunts and moans from his beautiful lips. Your back arches, your ass cheeks slam against his hips, your voice grows hoarse from the guttural moans emerging from your throat.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he croons. “Your perfect little hole is mine.”

“Satoru! Aaaah…”

“You want me to fill you up, sweetheart?”

“God, yes! Yes! ”

A few more strokes, shoved deep inside of you, and finally he comes. And he comes hard . He lets out one more loud groan before busting a load inside you, filling you once more with warmth and satisfaction. His cock twitches as it rests inside you; his moans grow softer, quieter. He stays there for a while, and you relish the full feeling his giant cock provides. When he finally pulls out after several seconds of cockwarming, you feel his seed dripping out. It soaks the cushions below.

But he’s not done with you yet. He manhandles you again, turning you over so you’re on your back and your legs are wide open, giving him full access to your cunt. His head dips down. His lips press against your throbbing clit. His tongue dances and twirls around, then his mouth consumes you completely. You’re already soaking wet, full of his cum and yours, and the intensity of his tongue movements are pushing you over the edge. You grip the fabric of the couch and arch your back, losing yourself in the ecstasy of his touch.

It takes quite a while for you to reach the edge, but he works you over with steadfast patience. He chuckles as he listens to you whimper and moan, and doesn’t resist when you grab his head and shove his face further down. His expert tongue and soft lips send waves of pleasure through your body, never ceasing even after you climax. Ecstasy courses through your veins. Pleasure vibrates through every nerve ending. You throw back your head and practically scream. You’ve never come this hard before, not with anyone else but him.

He’s not finished. As you’re panting and heaving, he slips one finger into your hole and slowly pumps it back and forth. Still writhing from the earth-shattering climax he just gave you, there’s little you can do but cry in frustrated pleasure. With one curl of his finger, he brings you to another climax, this one much more intense than the last. Your entire body arches upward. Colors and shapes explode in your vision. Your mind is starting to go fuzzy, but he still doesn’t stop. When the second orgasm has finished washing over you, he sticks in another finger and curls it up. Then he does it again, and again, and again…

With sweat plastered across your forehead and skin flushed so deeply it feels aflame, you whisper quiet pleas to your merciless lover.

“Satoru…” you splutter in between haggard breaths. “No more…”

He simply grins at you in response, devouring the sight of you with his voracious six eyes.

Ten long fingers rest on your hips, stroking them lightly. They crawl up your sides, then back down again. They follow your body’s movements while you thrash wildly, laughing and screaming in octaves you never knew you could reach. Every light flutter, every feathery claw feels like an electrical surge on your skin. All those successive orgasms have left you insanely sensitive. It’s the closest thing to torture you’ve ever felt. Gojo watches you with cruel satisfaction, laughs maniacally when you try to beg for respite. It’s unhinged, the way he’s giggling so cutely while making you suffer. Part of you is scared he’ll never stop. Part of you hopes he never will.

Fortunately, he does. After god knows how long he finally lets up, although he keeps his hands on your waist and his eyes focused on you. You can’t imagine how you must look; your eyes are bleary from all the tears he’s forced out, and your hair is strewn wildly about your head from all the struggling and wild movements. Your skin is warm, your throat feels dry. He damn near killed you with this little game of his.

He senses your exhaustion and stands up to grab you something to drink. He’s back in a split second, pressing the glass of cold water against your lips.

“Drink,” he commands, and you obey without protest. You finish the whole cup in a few gulps.

He pushes some of your hair out of your face, strokes your cheeks gently before kissing each one. His lips meet yours, and once you pull away he takes you in his arms and cradles you as you lay against his chest.

“Fuck…” you finally speak once you’ve regained your strength. “You’re a goddamn monster.”

That makes him laugh. He hugs you a little tighter and plants a kiss on your head.

“Are you still upset?"

"Upset about what?"

Oh. Right. You'd forgotten all about that. He smirks victoriously, proud of himself for getting one over on you once more. Asshole. But you don’t have the energy to say much else. Instead, you close your eyes, ready for a fucking nap after all that stimulation, but something stirring on the other side of the room gets your attention. You lift your head up, scanning the place for the source of the sound before your eyes fall on the figure sitting in the corner. The same corner you had heard that crash earlier.

A look of horror crosses your face as the realization hits you.

Someone else was in the room.

And she’d seen the entire thing.

It’s the barista from the coffee shop. The one you had accused. The poor girl gapes back at you both in disbelief and confusion, frozen with panic.

“Satoru!” you shout. He erupts into laughter, finding great amusement in your shock.

“Don’t worry. She’ll probably think it’s some sort of dream or vision,” he says in an attempt to console you. “Anyway, give me juuuust a second…”

He stands up, walks over to the young woman, then places a hand on her shoulder. They both vanish from your sight, and a few seconds later he reappears.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you shout again, earning another chuckle in response.

“I told you I’d fuck you in front of her.”

He hovers over you, his face so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your cheeks.

“Next time, believe me when I tell you how I feel. Then we won’t have to play these silly games.”

You gawk at him for a long time, a million thoughts running through your mind. You want to scold him, tell him off, rip him a new asshole, but god. You’re so damn tired. And you can’t argue when he’s looking at you like this, with his big baby blues full of affection, like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Two big hands cup your cheeks, brushing away the last of your sweat and tears. You close your eyes, and a soft pair of lips kiss your eyelids and forehead. When you open them again, his beautiful face greets you with a gentle smile full of adoration.

Gojo Satoru was a fucking enigma. The more you got to know him, the less you understood. But you were past the point of no return.

As you found yourself lost in those eyes of his once more, you knew there was no going back.

#jjk smut #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #minors dni #merry christmas ya filthy animals

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buckyispunk · 9 months

Text

Falling

Aloha Chapter Three~ Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (no use of Y/N)

read previous parts here!

masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: The events of Ocean Blue from Bucky's perspective, aka Bucky fights to win you back.

A/N: So so soooo sorry for the longer-than-expected wait everyone! Thank you to all who have been sticking it out with me! I hope this chapter makes up for it! Also - discontinuing tags after this chapter, follow @buckyispunkwrites and turn on notifs!!

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, discussion of unhealthy relationships, slight overstimulation, dom!Bucky, drinking, insecure reader, please lmk if I missed anything

Word Count: 4.6k

“Dude,” Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder, “I’m sure she’ll be out soon, you don’t have to keep staring at the door.”

Bucky reverts his attention to his friends, who are now laughing at his infatuated state. He debates for a second whether or not it’s worth it to think of a clever comeback, but he can’t bring himself to care enough. All Bucky cares about is when he’ll next be able to hear your laugh and watch the way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight. All he cares about right now is being with you.

And that scares Bucky. Absolutely terrifies him. The last time Bucky felt this way about someone, she betrayed every ounce of trust he ever put in her and Bucky had wound up wishing he never even met her in the first place. But even though he’s only known you a few days, something tells Bucky you’re nothing like his ex.

All he manages is a mumbled shut up.

He turns from his friends to go order another round, noting that Sam and Steve’s bottles are almost empty as well. As he leans against the bar waiting for the bartender, he feels a tap on his shoulder.

Bucky grins as he turns around.

“Been waiting for you, do-”

He cuts himself off when he realizes it’s not you he’s talking to, but some blonde woman he doesn’t recognize.

“Sorry,” he shakes his head, “thought you were someone else,” he explains, smile disappearing from his face.

“No worries,” she flases her white teeth at him, “I actually think your friend over there is kinda cute. The one that hasn’t stopped laughing for the last five minutes.”

Bucky sighs, relieved that the woman isn’t hitting on him. He’s never been great at rejecting people.

“Sam’s definitely something,” Bucky tilts his head in amusement.

“I was gonna buy him a drink, what does he like? Couldn’t see his bottle from where I’m sitting.”

“I was just ordering us another round, I’ll just give you his.”

Bucky turns back to the bartender and orders three beers for him and his friends.

“Thanks. Now let’s just hope he doesn’t fall out of his chair again when I give it to him.”

Bucky laughs as he remembers when, a few minutes ago, Sam had fallen to the ground laughing at Steve’s insistence that the Giants are super bowl bound this year. In that moment, as he listened to Sam’s hysterical laughter and Steve’s continued argument, he found himself wondering whether you’d be laughing along with Sam or if you were a die-hard Giants fan, like Steve.

He’s realized there’s so many things he doesn’t know about you: your favorite kind of flower, how you spend your time on rainy Sundays, where you grew up, whether you eat pumpkin or apple pie on Thanksgiving. And this realization has sparked an endless curiosity in Bucky. He has a sudden urge to ask you every possible question he can think of and then memorize each and every answer you tell him until he’s familiarized himself with every nook and cranny of your beautiful mind.

The bartender sets the drinks on the bar, snapping Bucky out of his trance.

“Have at it,” Bucky hands the woman the beer and she heads toward their seats.

Sam and Steve usually have no trouble finding women wherever the three of them go. Occasionally Bucky would get hit on at the bar or at a ball game, usually only indulging them for a minute or two before escaping to the bathroom. He had gone on a few dates over the years, but those only discouraged him.

One time his date had gotten so drunk that Bucky had to practically carry her to her door, where she then invited Bucky inside with clear intentions - an offer which Bucky had politely declined, of course. The girl after that had looked up from her phone no more than five times throughout the night, making halfhearted conversation as she scrolled through social media before thanking Bucky for dinner and ordering an Uber home. Needless to say, Bucky hasn’t had the best dating experiences since he’s been stateside.

Sam, on the otherhand, has a whole folder on his phone filled with different dating apps - Kinder? Tumble? - he doesn’t remember what they’re called. For the life of him, Bucky can’t understand the appeal of swiping through woman after woman and judging them based off of a couple of pictures. Cliches be damned, he needs the butterflies in his stomach that he can’t seem to get rid of when he looks into a girl’s eyes for the first time, testing her name out on his lips, the involuntary grin on his face after making her blush, the excitement of trying to earn her phone number so he can ask her out. He wants a Hallmark-esque story to tell about how he met his future wife.

At that, Bucky’s thoughts reflexively drift back to you and he turns to eye the door again. Seeing no sign of you, he lets out a sigh and heads back toward his friends. He sees the woman all but clinging onto Sam, who doesn’t mind one bit - if the grin on his face is anything to go by. Bucky hands Steve his beer and sits, passing the time discussing football with Steve.

Another twenty or so minutes go by before Bucky gets sick of watching Sam not-so-discreetly exchange dirty talk with the woman. Bucky finishes his beer and stands up to leave once Steve heads to the bathroom. Sam doesn’t see Bucky walk away - his tongue is too deep into the woman’s mouth for him to notice anything else.

Bucky heads toward the hotel, beginning to get worried about you. He gets into the elevator and presses the 5. Bucky doesn’t even notice the way he nervously taps his foot as the elevator climbs to your floor. He makes his way to your room and raises his hand, rapping his knuckles against the thick wood.

No answer.

He waits a few seconds before knocking again, harder.

Bucky feels his heart rate pick up ever so slightly when he calls your name and still doesn’t hear a response. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to call you and stops suddenly, cursing himself under his breath.

He’d never even gotten your phone number.

Fuck.

He slips his phone back into his pocket and his fingers brush aroom key. Your room key.

You had given him your room key earlier.

“Are you in there, doll? If you want me to go away then just say so. Promise I won’t be upset, sweetheart, just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

He knocks one last time and pulls the key card out to unlock the door.

“I’m coming in, doll.”

He cautiously steps into your room, calling out your name again. He does a quick scan of the bedroom and the bathroom before concluding that you’re not there.

As he heads back down to the lobby, he realizes he’s more frantic than he has any right to be. You’re not his to worry about. You’re not his to take care of. You’re not his. But he can figure that out later. Right now, he needs to make sure you’re okay.

He walks through the lobby and the gift shop racking his brain for anything he could have done to upset you. You seemed understanding when he left you in your room. Maybe you felt rejected when he declined your offer to shower with you? If only you’d known how hard it was for him to say no to you, how his self-control almost hadn’t been strong enough.

He rounds the corner to the hotel bar and instantly feels a weight lift off of his shoulders when he sees you sitting at the bar, wearing the Hawiian shirt that mirrors his own. Bucky makes his way across the room in quick strides.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you okay?” He places his hand on your shoulder and you turn to look at him.

Any relief Bucky had felt just moments ago is gone as soon as he notices your tear-streaked face and watery eyes. He instantly reaches a gentle hand out to cup your face, which you promptly smack away.

Bucky raises his hands in the air, wanting to show that he isn’t a threat. A distressed and confused expression makes its way across Bucky’s face as his mind begins to race. He immediatley searches his memory again for what he could have done to upset you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, ready to come up with a solution; ready to console you; ready to do everything in his power to take your pain away. This is the first time Bucky’s seen you this upset, and in this moment he decides he’ll do his damndest to make sure he never sees you this upset again.

“Fuck off, Barnes,” you scoff, turning back towards the bar and downing the last of your drink.

Bucky stands with a dumbfounded look on his face, hands frozen in the air. Determined to make sure you’re okay, Bucky takes a seat next to you while you order another drink.

“Doll, what happened?”

Bucky feels as if his heart is about to pound out of his chest. It’s physically hurting him to see you like this, and it hurts him even more knowing that, based off your hostility towards him, it might be his fault.

“Did I do something, sweetheart?”

You turn to Bucky, eyes lit with what Bucky can only describe as rage.

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask that girl you were buying a drink for at the bar,” you scoff, an incredulous smirk on your face as the bartender places a fresh drink in front of you.

Bucky feels his whole body go tense at your words. His eyes close as he sucks in a strained breath, realizing how it must have looked if you had seen the interaction from afar.

“Please, let me explain. It wasn’t what it looked like, I promise.”

“Yeah right, James. Was that not you buying a drink for a fucking supermodel out there? Maybe it was your doppelganger out there that was laughing with her? I’m sure you weren’t trying to get in her pants. I’m sure it couldn’t have been the fact that there’s a hundred better-looking, more interesting women at this resort right now. I’m sure it wasn’t that you got what you wanted from me an-”

“Enough,” Bucky’s stern tone cuts you off.

He looks around and sees the attention your little spat has drawn. He softly says your name, ocean blue eyes boring into your own, pleading.

“Please, doll, let’s talk. Can we get out of here?”

He watches you contemplate for a moment before responding. Bucky’s eyes may have softened your resolution because you give in.

“Fine. I’ll hear you out, but that’s all I’m promising.”

“Of course,” Bucky nods enthusiastically as he stands from his chair, “if you still want nothing to do with me after I explain myself then I won’t bother you anymore. Swear.”

Bucky watches as you attempt to hop down from your barstool in your drunken state. You barely land on your feet, stumbling forward. Bucky reaches out instinctively, wrapping his hands around your forearms before you land face first on the hard floor.

“Careful, honey.”

You remove your arms from his grasp and head towards the lobby, Bucky following behind you. Bucky stops you with a light hand on your shoulder in front of the gift shop.

“Hey can you wait right here for a second?”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, James?”

Bucky tries to ignore the twinge of pain he feels as you call him by his first name again.

“Please, just trust me. I’ll be back in one minute, just sit right here.”

He directs you to a couch before going into the hotel’s little store. Bucky tries to calm himself down as he walkes toward the little fridge and grabs a bottle of water. He struggles to wrap his head around that fact that the two of you went from playing football and scuba diving earlier today to him having to beg to talk to you.

He tries his best to be polite when the cashier asks him about his night, meanwhile he can’t shake the image of your devastated eyes at the bar. He couldn’t let you go on thinking he’d do that to you. Couldn’t let you go on thinking that he would use you and throw you aside like that.

After he pays, he grabs the water bottle and thanks his lucky stars when you’re still sitting where he left you.

“Drink this please, doll.” He extends the water bottle.

He’s expecting you to put up a fight, but to his surprise, you snatch the bottle from him and down half of it in one go.

“Good girl.”

Bucky doesn’t notice the effect his words have on you, even in your outraged state.

“Let’s go outside.”

Bucky’s hand hovers over your lower back as you walk, ready to reach out and steady you in case you stumble. Bucky guides you to the beach, almost empty at this hour. When you’re far enough away from the few people scattered around, Bucky plops down onto the sand and reaches a hand up to help you down next to him.

After you sit, Bucky keeps a lose grip on your hand. When you don’t make any attempts to pull it away, he tightens his grip and pulls your joint hands to rest on his thigh.

Bucky takes a deep breath before beginning.

“After I left you in your room, I went down to meet Sam and Steve at the bar. At one point, I got up to get everyone another round of drinks. That’s when that woman approached me. I was afraid she was going to hit on me at first, and if she had, believe me, I would have turned her down.”

“She wasn’t hitting on you?”

“No, sweetheart, she told me she thought Sam was cute. She wanted to buy him a drink and didn’t know what to get him, so I just gave her the beer I had bought for Sam and let her give it to him. She took the beer over and was sitting with Sam when I got back. For the most part, her and Sam were talking and kissing while me and Steve tried our best to ignore them. Eventually, Steve got up to go to the bathroom and I came to look for you because I had no desire to be around them any longer and I was worried about you.”

“Oh. So you and her weren’t flirting? You didn’t buy the drink for her?”

“‘course not doll.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky feels the tension seep out of his bones when you call him ‘Buck’ instead of ‘James’.

“Don’t be, doll. I’m sorry for how that looked. And even more, I’m sorry that you thought I’d ever do that to you. I would never use you like that then just move on to another girl like it never happened. Besides, I haven’t even begun to get I want from you, honey.”

“Huh?”

“Earlier you said I’d just taken what I wanted from you. That’s not true.”

Bucky won’t have everything he wants from you until you know that being able to spend these last few days with you has made him feel like the luckiest man alive. Until he’s convinced you that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. Until he’s able to help you overcome all those unwarranted insecurities stupid fucking Brock put in your head. Until you’re his.

Bucky’s afraid to say all of this out loud, both because he doesn’t want to scare you off and because he’s not ready to admit to himself how quickly and deeply he fell for you. So instead, he brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to it.

Almost as if you understand, you don’t press the topic, just let out a little sigh at the feeling of Bucky’s soft lips on your skin.

“I really am sorry though, Buck. I overreacted. I guess I just thought you got bored of me and decided to leave, like Brock. Besides, it’s not like we’re exclusive. I mean we hardly know each other, it’s not my place to tell you what you can or can’t do with other women.”

“Doll, I wouldn’t waste time with other women when we’ve only got a few more days here. I’d spend every second of my time left here with you if I could,” Bucky rubs his thumb along your hand, hoping that you believe him. “Listen closely. I understand why you got upset. It looked bad. Also, Brock is quite possibly the dumbest man on the planet for having someone as fucking perfect as you and ‘getting bored’. I don’t know how you put up with that undeserving piece of shit for so long. You deserve to be fucking worshipped, don’t ever settle for anything less.”

“Thank you, Bucky,” he doesn’t miss the way your eyes start to water again at his words.

“Promise me, doll.”

“Promise what?”

“Promise me that you’ll never settle for anything less.”

Though the thought of you being with anyone else at all pains Bucky - he knows it shouldn’t -, he needs to know that no matter who you end up with after you leave Hawaii, you’re being treated right.

You hesitate for only a moment before responding.

“I promise, Buck.”

“So,” Bucky braces himself, “are we okay? If you want nothing to do with me, like I said before, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Yeah, Bucky” your lips curl into a gentle smile, “we’re okay.”

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief when you scoot yourself closer to him and lean against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you tight, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Good. Now drink the rest of your water, sweetheart.”

Bucky uncaps the bottle and hands it to you. You sip on the water and Bucky feels at peace for the first time in hours, with you in his arms and the waves crashing onto the sand in front of him. He could stay here forever, he thinks. It’d give him plenty of time to ask you all those questions. Before he can get the chance, though, he feels you shiver.

“Shit, honey, are you cold?”

Bucky had been too preoccupied thinking to notice the breeze blowing against the two of you.

“Let’s go back,” he doesn’t wait for an answer from you before standing and helping you to your feet.

As soon as you stand, you interlace Bucky’s fingers with your own and the two of you make your way back to the hotel. You seem to be walking a lot more steady now, the bottle of water and time spent on the beach having sobered you up.

Bucky fills the walk back with apologies for hurting you and you reply with your own apologies for jumping to conclusions. By the time the two of you reach your floor, you agree to leave the events of the night behind you and move on.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Bucky questions, getting ready to say goodnight and turn toward his room.

Your response surprises Bucky.

“Do you want to come back to my room?” you smirk at Bucky and begin to run your hand up his forearm.

“Are you sure, doll? We don’t need to do anything.”

After everything that’s happened today, the last thing Bucky wants to do is make you feel like you’re being used. He needs you to know he’s spending time with you for the right reasons.

“I want to if you do, Buck.”

“Okay, but only if you’re certain.”

Bucky wouldn’t even be considering it if he didn’t think all the alcohol had worn off, but he hasn’t seen any signs of intoxication since the walk to the beach.

“You made me a promise in the dressing room.”

Bucky’s eyes darken as he recalls you getting on your knees for him in the hotel gift shop earlier.

“I did, didn’t I?”

Bucky leads the two of you to your room and unlocks it with the key card he still has.

“Can’t leave me hanging, Bucky.”

He’s sure you’re more than ready for some attention after he had edged you.

“You’re right about that baby.” he opens the door and walks in behind you.

Bucky can tell by the way you stand awkwardly in front of the bed, you’re waiting for him to give you an order. The realization makes his dick jump in his boxers. He typically prefered to be dominant in bed, and he’s grateful for the way you seem so eager to submit and let him take the reigns.

“Listen, doll, tonight is all about you. You were so good for me today. You did perfect and you earned your reward.”

Even if he didn’t actually do anything wrong, Bucky can’t help but feel responsible for the tears you shed today. He wants to rid the image of your watery eyes staring at him with hate from his mind and replace it with one of your face scrunched up in pleasure as you scream him name.

He needs to make it up to you.

Bucky pulls his shirt over his head as he stalks toward you, throwing it on the floor.

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”

Bucky does nothing to hide the ravenous look in his eyes as he watches you undress, he just palms his rapidly growing erection. He lets out a low curse when you expose your breasts to him. You remove your shorts, then look up to Bucky with a questioning look as you thumb the waistband of your panties.

“All of it, doll.”

You pull the fabric down your legs and lay back on the bed, waiting for Bucky’s next move.

Bucky allows himself to revel in this moment only for a second - you spread naked on the bed, waiting for him with desperate, pleading eyes - before he reminds himself that he’s supposed to be making it up to you right now.

Bucky stands by the edge of the bed and grabs your ankles. He drags your body down the bed with ease until your hips are on the end of the bed, legs hanging over the side. Bucky kneels down onto the floor, face level with your center.

Bucky is only slightly shocked at how wet your core is. He can’t help the groan that escapes him as he watches your slick pool out.

“Fuck, doll. You’re killing me here.”

You buck your hips up into the air seeking any sort of relief and Bucky throws your legs around his shoulders. He doesn’t even give you a chance to beg, he dives right in. He laps up the wetness that has escaped from your pussy before suckling your clit into his mouth and tonguing it.

You let out a shriek and it only spurs Bucky on.

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and suctioning your clit between his full, pink lips.

“Fu- Bucky! I’m cl- oh god- I’m close!” Bucky thinks that he could spend the rest of his life down here, on his knees for you, if you continue making sounds like that.

He grips your thighs around his head, fingers almost bruising. He rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit and you come with a moan that Bucky thinks may be the second-best thing he’s ever heard - number one being your laugh, of course.

Bucky returns to your hole to drink up all of your release. He listens to your gasps as you ride out your high, hips bucking into his face.

“Okay, Buck, it’s- fuck- it’s too much, baby,” you try to pry your legs open around his head but his grip is unrelenting.

Bucky lifts his mouth off of you just long enough to say, “Not yet, honey. I want one more,” before he reattatches his mouth to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He meant it when he said he could stay down here forever. He pays no mind to his stiff knees - sore from the hard floor, or the wet spot formed on his boxers from his leaking dick. He wants you to forget about all the pain you felt today, wants to eat you out until all you know is pleasure, until the only word your mouth is able to form is his name.

“Holy fu-ahh,” you grab the comforter beneath you for dear life.

“You can do it, doll. Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?”

Bucky brings a hand up inbetween your legs and slips two fingers into your soaked pussy with no resistence.

“So fucking soaked baby. This little pussy really was desperate for me, huh?”

He curls his fingers until he feels that spongy spot inside you and continues brushing up against it when he hears your moans.

“Yes, Bucky! Right there, please!”

“No need, to beg tonight doll. I know exactly what you want and I’m gonna give it to you.”

Bucky sucks your mouth into his clit and ever so gently scrapes it with his teeth, eliciting a borderline pornographic moan of his name from you. He continues curling his fingers and focusing his mouth on your clit.

You don’t give him a verbal warning, but Bucky knows you’re about to come undone again by your breathing and the way you’re squeezing his fingers so tight he’s afraid you’ll push them out. He eats you through it, fucking you on his digits as you moan and gasp for breath.

He pulls his hand from your core and fucks you with his tongue until you start to whine from overstimulation and only then does he pull away, rising to his feet.

“Did so fucking perfect for me, baby,” he praises, “I’ll be right back, promise.”

He bends down and places a kiss on your damp forehead, and heads for the bathroom. Bucky is reminded of his hard-on when his zipper presses against it rather uncomfortably. He shucks off his pants and shoes on the way to the bathroom.

He grabs a washcloth and dampens it in the sink with warm water, and returns to you in his boxers. He gets back down onto his knees and spreads your legs. He drags the warm cloth through your folds, cleaning up the mixture of his spit and your arousal. Once he’s done the best he can, careful to avoid your oversensitive clit, he presses a kiss to the top of your mound.

He stands and throws the washcloth into the pile with the rest of the dirty clothes.

“Tired, doll?” Bucky fights back a laugh at the way your eyelids droop, struggling to stay open.

“No, Buck, lemme take care of you,” he sees your eyes drop to his boxers.

“Not a chance, honey. Told you tonight was all about you. Time for bed,” he smiles fondly at your attempt to take care of him.

You put up a brief fight, but Bucky manages to get you under the covers and climbs in next to you. You immediately curl into his chest when he’s beside you and Bucky’s thankful you can’t see the grin on his face.

He brings a hand to your hair and smoothes it down.

“Goodnight, angel.”

The only response Bucky gets from you is the light sound of your breaths, hot against his chest.

Once he’s positive you’re asleep, he allows himself to admit out loud, “I think I’m falling for you, doll.”

To be continued...

Tags Below (Discontinued after this chapter, follow @buckyispunkwrites and turn on notifications!

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#bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #aloha #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel smut #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes series

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bellgraves · 5 days

Text

Phillip Graves x Fem!reader 🩷

Yall I have Graves AU idea and I need to share it!!! (This is inspired by current Hellspawn mode on Warzone)

So, everyone is dead. You, Graves, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price (even Shepard lol).

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Your soul reach heaven and you're greeted by your loved ones. It's beautiful paradise, where you can spend all eternity in peace, beauty and love. You walk through path covered with flowers. You stop for a moment to enjoy the view: sunset on the horizon and when you look up you see the whole galaxy, with stars and colours. You feel in peace. Then suddenly you see far away from you, like in other planet explosion and a lot of fire. You feel pain in your chest and a voice calling your name.

You recognized this voice. Even in afterlife you would know that this is Phillip Graves, your lover from earth, when you were still alive.

"I need you!!! Comeback to me, please!!" Phillip's voice rings in your ear.

You turn around and start to run downhill. The flowery path disappears as you reach a huge mirror which is the same time a gate.

A hand is stopping you to enter.

It's a member of your family.

"If you go there... you will never comeback. Never. You will stay in purgatory for eternity...."

"I promised him... I will always be with him... Even death can't tear us apart. It was a promise..." You say and turn around, entering the mirror gate.

You feel like you fall asleep, but then you feel sudden earth quake and you woke up, lying on the ground, sounds of explosion, shooting, and soldiers screaming their orders. You're not wearing a beautiful white dress anymore... You're in your black, shadow uniform, that you used to have in your life. You got up on your feet and look around. You recognized this place immediately. It was Rebirth Island.

But it was not normal Island like you remember it from your life. It was full of monsters, zombies, and weird lights. Merceneries, Task Force, Shadows and other soldiers were fighting all around you.

Then you saw it. A burning tank. With Shadow spade insignia. You ran towards it with inhuman speed and you stopped before flames.

You saw him coming through fire. Commander Phillip Graves. He looked like, just the same as you saw him for the first time in your life, but a little different. His eyes where dark blue, more chaotic..more intense.

A zombie ran towards you and him, but Graves shooted it with pistol, didn't even bother to look at creature. His eyes were focused on you.

"It's....you? Really you?" Graves asked.

"It's me.. I heard you calling me. I heard calling of your heart". You reply.

You run towards eachother locking in embrace. In his arms you found your true heaven. Graves kissed you hard and passionate. He cupped your face with his hands and looked at you.

"I was waiting for you, for so long..I'm loyal to you..I'm loyal only to you, even in fucking death". Graves whispered into your lips and kissed you again.

From now on this is how your afterlife looked like:

You woke up on the ground in the middle of the war, meeting Graves. For six days you were fighting together againts enemies, getting hurt, getting healed, running, shooting and killing. On the seventh day, you were winning the war and the two of you, in the small room, on the ship, were making love, bodies finally connected, feeling love for each other and pleasure beyond imagine. You two were in peace for a short moment. But purgatory didn't have still time. The next day you woke up on the ground again, forgetting about what happened during last seven days, starting war from beggining. And this is how the circle continued forever. Never ending war and never ending love.

Atleast you and Graves were together. For eternity. Two souls bonding and merged together... In a video game.

The end. 🩷

Tagging my lovies

@candy616

@xxavengingangelxx

I hope you liked it!!!

#i made myself cry writting this lol #call of duty #phillip graves #phillip graves x f!reader #phillip graves x fem!reader #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x female reader

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bearseulgs · 2 years

Text

Ni-ki as your boyfriend

gn!reader x ni-ki

genre: fluff ft teensy weensy bit of angst

wc: 688

warnings: kith ^3^, arguing (just a lil mention), pet names, let me know if there's anything else!!

okay first off: mans a total simp

sorry i don't make the rules ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

you'll do a lil dancey dance or recommend smth when listening to the demo of their new song and he'll be like

"yup yup lemme notify the members and manager and producer and choreographer immediately"

u praise him for his charm during one of his parts and he MELTS

you're his life sa vie su vida those are all the languages i know life in sorry

whipped behavior LLLL

ngl i feel like he loves laps. like. idk

like he'll be gaming and you want attention so you just lay your head in his lap and he'll stroke your hair from time to time

or he'll get lunch and come back and there's no seats at the table so as a joke you're like "come here babygirl" while patting your lap and he just

plops down. like he will sit on your lap no hesitation (ma princesse 😔🫶)

Kimmie brought up that he's the type to like matchy matchy things and i 100% agree!!!!

like say he finally finished up his tour and (if you were able to go) he got y'all matching keychains from the city you saw him in

if you couldn't see them he got keychains from one of his favs

or y'all will go to the arcade and get cute matching plushies that you won each other

or making matching earrings with supplies you bought together

i am having so many thoughts

i also think he's the type to film lil tiktok dancey dances with you (AHHH 💞💞)

or if he's got a chill day at work he invites you over for a mini dance party in the practice room

y'all probs have a collaborative playlist of 💖your songs💖 on spotify

he also has a separate playlist of songs that remind him of you

he seems the type to love baking dates but i also would not trust him in the kitchen so let's hope you're a good cook :0

everyone talks about this but rightfully so: nap dates

i want i need pls

good luck being productive within a 2 mile radius of his dorm because he will drag you back to nap with him <3

i am also a firm believer in him lending you his jackets and/or vice versa

doesn't matter if you're taller or shorter, stockier or scrawnier, or same size, jackets will be exchanged

it's just y'all's thing

imagine wearing his green leather jacket to a comeback showcase 😩

taking his phone when he's busy to play on it

he knows you took it because when he gets back his ranking is different (whether for the better or the worse) but he doesn't mind because he loves you <3

laser tag 🫢 like let's say y'all's friends go out for laser tagging one weekend and you do that thing mid game where y'all get all up close and personal and one of y'all kisses the other to distract them then shoots the kissee and walks away AHHH

now that gas prices are going down y'all go on little adventure drives to neat spots around town

what if y'all find a cute lil hidden spot and it becomes like Your Spot 🥺

him having theee most unflattering pic ever of you for your contact then a cute lil name like "my baby 💝" or smth i would cry

anyways now onto the part nobody wants 😔

arguments

i feel like he'd try to avoid serious arguments, of course having some playful bantering, but never taking it too far

but sometimes they're unavoidable

he seems the type to get kinda intense during arguments, and he can be pretty intimidating so i wouldn't blame his partner for getting lowkey scared 😭 but it's not entirely his fault :(

i hope you ain't petty because i don't doubt that he is, so if y'all both are it could be 4ever before things get resolved

but eventually one of y'all is gonna cave because you love each other or whateva 🤢 (jk i love love)

anyways this is getting kinda long so Riki best boy‼️‼️ whoever gets him please treat him well 🥺

a/n: u guys i am so whipped for this boy 💔

©️ bearseulgs 2022

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skymoral · 10 months

Text

🩵 THE CHAMELEON 🩵

BI-HAN x B!F WIFE READER W/ FRIENDS

Summary: Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas, Johnny, Kung Lao, Kenshin, Liu Kang, Raiden are playing a game you brought from home for them to try. You believed they would have fun

Tags: Drama, competition, comedy, death-threat, fun & games

A/N: You thought it was a funny and bad idea

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

You had your husband and friends sitting at a round table in the dining hall. You brought over a box that said “CHAMELEON” on it.

You made yourself comfortable on your husband’s lap. Tying your locs up in a bun, so it won’t be in his face. Because standing all day with a big pregnant belly was straining.

“What is this Y/N?” Liu Kang asked curiously.

“This my good friend is the game Chameleon! It’s a fun game I play with my family. I thought it’ll be fun to share with you guys.”

“Ooh yeah, this game is definitely something.” Johnny smirked rubbing his hands together.

You smiled, “That’s the spirit Johnny, so I will do one play-through with you all. As I explain how the game works, before the kids and I prepare dinner tonight.”

“Ain’t it only supposed to be 8 players total?” Johnny looked at you.

“I’m sharing with Bi-Han.” Bi-Han’s grip around your waist tightened.

You opened the box, revealing a blue deck, a green card, and dices. You take everything out, shuffling the cards.

“So this is how it goes, the blue deck is a mixture of cards but you only get one. Doesn’t matter, the green deck will be explained later. Now out of this deck is a Chameloen, as a chameleon your are NOT to say your the chameleon. You are supposed to blend with the other players, it’s literally to see who’s lying amongst the group. Make sense?”

It was silent, before you sighed, “It’s better if we start playing as I explain along the way.”

You gave everyone there card, luckily you had the chameleon card. You whispered something in your husbands ear, he nodded and you proceeded to explain.

The green cards are the topic cards each topic has the letters and numbers that matches what they have, on there blue cards. Which ever # they role, will be the topic of discussion. And the chameleon has to figure out what the secret topic is to not be revealed.

And if the wrong person is picked as a chameleon then the actual chameleon wins the game. Because there lie was just that good. But the players can’t make there answers too obvious, as to not reveal it to the chameleon.

“These look slightly different from the original, the topics?” Johnny pointed out. There very few from his world, but ones the others would still know.

“Yea I know, I had a friend help me. Make like an outworld edition, while keeping topics of earth in there. That others could know, just to be fair.”

You were happy the game was going smoothly, you thought it’ll be chaotic. But you guessed it’s because the play-through had explanations, for them to get a feel.

You were caught as the chameleon, which you intended to help explain the final info. “Now when then chameleon is caught. I have the chance to do what Johnny?”

“If the chameleon can guess the topic we had, then she wins.”

“Correct! But sense I legit don’t know. It’s y’all win, and that’s how the game goes. Does it make sense now?”

Everyone nodded, “Awesome! I will comeback and play with you all again. Once I’m done with everything.

You slowly got up, with your husbands help you have him a sweet kiss thanking him.

“Wow isn’t that like your tenth child.” Johnny laughed at you making a joke, in all actuality this would be your fourth child.

“Johnny really?” Kenshin looked at him.

“Naw Kenshin don’t say nothing, because one thing I know is that Johnny on his tenth bitch. Which was on the news, at least I can keep a nigga.” You walked a way with a smirked, after shutting Johnny up. Kung Lao, Tomas and Kenshin were holding back laughs. The others just smirked as Johnny rolled his eyes.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

You hoped leaving the boys alone were alright. You quickly went the market in outworld, to get ingredients for dinner.

You didn’t have the energy to travel all the way to your world and back while pregnant. And you wanted to hurry back, in case things got out of hand with the others.

You’ve been wanting to do a bonding game with everyone for awhile… At least you think it’s a bonding game, you didn’t think they could make a game like chameleon toxic… Could they?

You quickly gather the ingredients with the help of your personal Lin Kuei guard, and rushed back to cook in the kitchen. With both your daughters and son.

As you all were preparing and cooking, you heard certain sounds. All the way in the hall area, but didn’t think much of it and continued about in the kitchen.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

Dice Topic : Warrior

The Chameleon: Johnny

“Alright, remembering what Y/N said. I will just go first… I will say training.” Liu Kang gave his answer, trying his best not to give it away or be to vague.

“I would say Talent.” Johnny said.

“Practice.” Kung Lao said.

“Is that not the same thing as training?” Kuai Liang questioned.

“That is somewhat the same Kung Lao.” Tomas interjected.

“Ughh fine umm… Determination, then.” Kung Lao gave his new answer.

“Hmm, this is somewhat hard without giving it away…” Raiden was thinking.

“Stalling makes you look suspicious.” Johnny stated leaning back with his hands behind his head.

“So is pressuring others to quickly respond Johnny!? Let him think, there isn’t a timer on this game.” Kenshin retorted.

“Hey I’m just saying, I’m already debating my vote.”

“I got it! Upbringing.” Raiden finally said his.

“Tyrant.” Kenshin said his.

“Pfft yeah good one.” Johnny said under his breath.

“You got something to say!?” Kenshin slightly stood up, before Liu Kang gently pushed him back down.

“Umm, what about Tournament.” Tomas said, “That is a very good one Tomas.” Liu Kang praised him.

“Born.” Kaui Liang gave his.

“Lin Kuei.” Bi-Han said for this.

“That is the most vaguest shit I have ever heard out of all these lame ass answers.”

“If you have a problem with it STARBOY! Keep it to yourself! Your answer is not any better!” Bi-han stood up glaring at Johnny.

“Brother let’s just calm down, it’s just a game.” Kuai Liang tried to calm his brother.

“I say we should start voting, even though a lot of these answers aren’t that great. Kenshin and Bi-Han has the worst ones.”

“What!” Bi-han and Kenshin said in unison.

“You are full of shit Johnny, your answer being Talent, is way out of character compared to all our responses!”

“Hey my response, makes more sense then most! You’re upset, because you’d get caught!” Johnny yelled explaining.

“If I’m being honest… Kung Lao’s answer, makes me skeptical.” Raiden spoke up.

“Ooh really now!?” Kung Lao looked at his friend

“Everyone let’s just calm down. We must let everyone speak one at a time.” Liu Kang intervened

“You’ve been talking non-stop, you made yourself suspicious from the beginning! I say Johnny is the so called Chameleon!”

“Are you fucking kidding me! The mister all things Lin Kuei! Couldn’t come up with anything else in his vocabulary! Seems very suspicious to me, I say he’s the Chameleon!”

Bi-Han was about to attack Johnny, his brothers holding him back. As everyone kept arguing back and forth.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

You almost finished cooking for dinner, but then you heard loud crashes and yelling.

You quickly went to the dining hall as fast as your big belly allowed. You saw there were things broken, fire and ice everywhere. Liu Kang between Johnny, Kung Lao, and Bi-Han, Raiden, Kuai Liang, and Tomas.

“Seriously guys!” You shouted getting there attention. You literally was dying inside from laughter, holding your mouth from having it come out.

“You are the only people I know in the universe that can make a fun family game THIS toxic.”

Everyone calmed down a bit, so to not get you caught up. “So no one is getting any dinner, tell y’all clean this damn mess up… Since you can’t play together, you will clean together.”

You walked away smirking shaking your head.

It only took them thirty minutes to finish, once they were done. You had your friends join you and your family for dinner.

It was a nice dinner and after everything calmed down. They laughed at how they reacted, you could tell Bi-Han was still slightly irritated. So you quickly gave him a kiss when no one was looking.

“I’m glad you all realized how ridiculous y’all were acting. I probably should’ve stayed, but don’t worry. For our next bonding game…” You quickly went to your room and came back with a deck of cards.

“Wanna do UNO next?” You grinned, they only just looked at you.

A/N: Can you imagine the chaos when these people play earth games. The shit would be hilarious.

I might make a writing series out of this, of this group playing games you suggest from your world, if y’all would like that.💅🏾

The Same Energy of this gif in this fanfiction lol

#mortal kombat #fem reader #reader insert #bi han sub zero #bi han mortal kombat #black reader #fanfic #bi han x reader #bi han fanfic #liu kang mk1 #johnny cage #kung lao #raiden #tomas vrbada #kuai liang #kenshi takahashi #bondingtime #card games #chameleon games

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evilbihan · 7 months

Note

I'm curious, do you think Smoke might leave the Shirai Ryu at some point? I don't know why I feel like he might.

Yes, absolutely.

This is actually one of my favorite theories/predictions for either the next MK game or a future story DLC because there are a lot of things hinting at exactly that happening.

We have to keep in mind that Smoke's motivation in the new era, according to his official bio, is loyalty, so I doubt that he will simply turn his back on the Shirai Ryu.

I only see him leaving the clan he himself helped build if he either gets corrupted by the Enenra or if he decides Kuai Liang is no longer deserving of his loyatly, perhaps once he finds out about how Kuai Liang was willing to let Bi-Han die.

These are the main reasons why I think Smoke will leave the Shirai Ryu.

1 - Smoke is apparently not going to be in the upcoming DLC

Don't quote me on this because I can only talk about what I've seen on reddit, but so far none of the leaks have mentioned him and it seems he won't be present at Kuai Liang's wedding. Of course, there could be many explanations for his absence, but personally, I believe there might be some disagreement between Smoke and Kuai Liang.

Scorpion: Our resolve cannot waver, brother. Smoke: I’m offended that you think mine has.

It's obvious these two don't exactly see eye to eye since Kuai Liang seems to doubt Smoke's resolve and we also know Tomáš would prefer his brothers to reconcile, not kill each other, which is the opposite of what Kuai Liang wants. Kuai Liang wants to kill Bi-Han and is going to leave him behind to die. I feel like Smoke might be upset when he finds out about that. He already seems reluctant to follow Kuai Liang down the path of vengeance.

2 - A very old leak mentioned Smoke leaving the Shirai Ryu

I don't know if anyone else remembers this, but I can recall a leak from back before the game came out claiming that Smoke's tower ending would have him leaving both the Lin Kuei and the Shirai Ryu because he was tired of fighting.

I've been trying to find a screenshot of this because I remember seeing it in a youtube video but I've been unable to do so. Maybe it was taken down and obviously, we got an entirely different tower ending for Smoke, but I wonder if, instead of being fake, that leak was just talking about something that's to come in the future. It definitely feels like something that could happen because Smoke seems like he's tired of the feud between his brothers.

3 - Noob and the tag team mode

Chances are that the tag team mode will come back to MK1, especially with the return of Noob which could also hint at a comeback for Noob-Smoke. While I personally doubt that Smoke would side with Bi-Han, unless he becomes corrupted himself, it's a possibility that we could see that team up making a return.

Sorry if this turned out longer than necessary, but yes, I definitely do believe we could see Smoke leaving the Shirai Ryu at some point in the future.

#tomas vrbada #mk smoke #bi han #mk sub zero #kuai liang #mk scorpion #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat

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hrts4hanniehae · 9 months

Text

Take a Chance with Me || twelve

*mostly written parts

WARNING: implied aftermath of 18+ content

remember to comment and reblog

yn stirred, feeling an unfamiliar warmth and the slow, steady breaths of another.

fuck... what happened last night... her whole body was sore and she could feel the person stir.

"morning, yn." oh. last night wasn't a dream. she couldn't help but hold back her tears. he was here. he was in her arms.

"morning, cheollie."

she felt him stiffen. perhaps it was too soon to call him like that. but after what they did last night, why would it be?

he planted a kiss to the top of her head.

"my yn, does this mean we're together again?"

"i..." she breathed in.

"yes, my cheollie."

after that, seungcheol had to go. his comeback album, 'Face the Sun" was released.

"so are you both going to do a slow reveal soft launch thing or hard launching it?"

"i'm letting yn make that decision. if i had to choose, i'd hard launch right now but i don't think yn is comfortable with that yet."

"isn't she coming over today? for like a tiktok dance collab thing?"

"no hoshi, it's a special darl+ing recording ft. yn"

"oh."

it had been so long. Seventeen hadn't actually spoken to yn for so long. so when she stepped into the recording studio, they finally realised how much they had actually missed her presence.

jeonghan missed her crafty personality. joshua missed how she laughed at all his antics. BSS missed how she was like their older sister. wonwoo missed gaming with her. woozi missed discussing music with her. jun and minghao missed eating chinese food with her. vernon missed their silent movie nights. dino missed his "noona".

they didn't know it, but they all had already bonded with her over those few years. she was there since their start. they'd known her since the start, when she had been a trainee -- their friend.

yn was home. she was home and there for their leader.

"i want our relationship to hard launch now, cheollie. I'm ready."

they had been dropping hints for months, starting with his voice in her special title track release. their most recent one was of their beach date (with the 12 wheels of svt)

"are you sure?"

"yea."

"but the hate comments you've been receiving..."

some... lesser fans of svt had been leaving hate comments on yn's posts, claiming she'd ruin SVT's image. popular ones were

"stop stealing our idols." "bitch." "lame. your songs don't even make sense." "cry me a river..." "stop ruining svt's image." "leave svt alone..." "whore."

she didn't care. she had THE alpha leader, Choi Seungcheol wrapped around her finger. why would she care? this leader let her buy whatever she wanted with his money to "make up for every birthday he missed". this leader went soft in her arms and held her like she was the most precious thing on earth. this leader loved her. not them. so why would she care? she had him and they didn't.

"whatever you want, jagiya."

"i love you cheollie."

note to my taglist: please reblog and comment abt the chpt so i know that you're actually reading my stuff.

summary: 3 years after your breakup with seungcheol, you release an album to cope with your still-broken heart. you didn't expose his name but quickly, your fans and fans of svt begin to connect the dots to the past you wish you could relive. little did you know, the man you loved so desperately would begin to chase you back with the same desperation you so very much desired

inspired by: take a chance with me

pairing: idol!choi seungcheol × fem!idol!reader

genre: past relationship, fluff, angst, best friend!booseoksoon, smau, miscommunication, pining, 2nd chance

warnings: implied self harm/depression, hate comments, updates irregular but will finish because i cried when i thought abt this idea

started: 13.12.23

taglist: fill out the form in my pinned post to be added to the taglist (specify this smau in the pw section)

smau masterlist

smau socials

previous I next

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes@jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @atinybitlonely @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 4 months

Text

A Bounty As Boundless As The Sea | Chapter 5

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction 2023) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dracule Mihawk x F!Reader Characters: Dracule Mihawk, Original Characters, Akagami no Shanks, Roronoa Zoro , Perona. Warnings: Mention of blood and physical torture, violence, 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching. Summary: Constantly evading capture due to a bounty on your head, you were forced to embrace the life of a pirate, despite your initial desire for a thrilling adventure and a simple exploration of the world. One fateful day, the Marines dispatched Dracule Mihawk to hunt you down, plunging you into a game of hide and seek with the formidable Warlord of the sea throughout the East Blue. However, to your surprise, the man proved to be less bloodthirsty and hostile than you had anticipated. His piercing, hawk-like eyes, shimmering with a deep golden hue, left an indelible impression on your mind, while his apathetic yet self-assured demeanor ignited a newfound sense of intrigue within you.

Credits: The divider was made by firefly-graphics.

Tagging: @gg-trini, @commanderfreethatdust, @canthebest1, @shakysif, @i-am-vita. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the future chapters, feel free to drop me a comment!

Read on AO3

As soon as you returned from Loguetown, good news greeted you. But the minute you journeyed to Mirror Ball Island for a potential deal that seemed dubious, you were destined to regret being so obstinate and reckless. As usual, a certain Warlord was nearby to lend a hand. And a whole lot more.

Warning: Mention of blood, violence, minor gore and death. NSFW content, detailed oral sex description.

Long chapter ahead!

Mihawk found himself at a loss to explain his drive to seek you out. The mere thought of causing you any form of displeasure stirred within him an odd sense of disquiet.

He intentionally chose to disregard the world government's mandates and opted to leave you untouched. In his perspective, handing you over would be pointless, and he undoubtedly had no intent of taking your life himself.

Despite your unrefined power and lack of ample experience, you showcased your deservingness of his attention. There was a distinct trait in you, evident in your direct eye contact, in your unwavering resolve, and in your ethical principles that seemed to call for nurturing. Mihawk was eager to see your development and the person you could become with appropriate training, mentorship, and time. A woman so determined and capable, able to cut an admiral's throat and make a solo escape from a high-security base, who had again and again evaded his meticulous observation.

You had ignited his curiosity.

Over time, his hunt for you became a source of amusement for Mihawk, to the extent that he deliberately allowed you to flee, just to provide himself an excuse to find you again and prolong his assignment. You had categorized it as a game of cat and mouse, but to him, you were not a rat, not a prey he intended to crush.

You harbored a distinctive spark, a flame that he had no desire to extinguish.

As a result of this, Mihawk found himself irresistibly drawn to you.

He was a man enamored with the sea, not one to squander his precious time on meaningless dalliances. He wasn't the type to succumb to a woman's allure, and he didn’t have any inclination towards winning the affection of one. He thrived in solitude, free from complications, and devoid of anyone clinging to him with demands he had no intention of fulfilling.

Yet, somehow, your presence had turned his world upside down. He admired your beauty, your charisma, your quick comebacks, and your steadfastness in standing your ground.

Your scent was marvelous, sweet and fragrant. He liked your attention to your looks, your selection of jewelry, and your distinctive style. And the way you moved, radiating sensuality and confidence, was a trait he found unbelieavably attractive.

You stirred up raw, primal instincts within him. You provoked a sense of obligation in Mihawk to stay in the East Blue, vigilantly monitoring your journeys, from the day he discovered that his non-compliance had prompted the marines to dispatch a larger contingent of bounty hunters after you.

You were essentially a stranger, an unknown. He shouldn't have been worried about your destiny or whereabouts. He had done his part, he had released you and saved your life once, he had granted you a second opportunity. What else could there possibly be?

The more he sought an answer, the more his mind was inundated with recollections of your trembling form beneath his. Echoes of your moans, your heartbeat, your silky skin, and your delightfully exquisite, temptingly enticing, heated womanliness enveloping his arousal.

Meeting you in Loguetown was not something he had foreseen, and admittedly, it took him a moment to penetrate your disguise and identify you. As soon as he saw your hair cascading down, your familiar eyes locking with his, he was immediately filled with an unusual feeling of worry for you. He tried to brush it off, to keep his space, and return to his peaceful solitude by the fire. But, in his attempt to do so, he inadvertently hurt your emotions and pride, leading you to shoot him the most scornful look he had ever received.

And he found it utterly distasteful.

Under different circumstances, he wouldn't have pondered over it too much. He was used to being chased by ambitious swordsmen trying to seize his title and more, and he couldn't have cared less about how others viewed him. Still, for some unfathomable reason, the thought of you nursing a grudge against him was... surprisingly hard to stomach.

And he would be deceiving himself if he denied that he didn't thoroughly enjoy the passionate tryst you both shared for the second time. Hell be damned, that was unquestionably fantastic.

Being with you felt like sheer bliss. Mihawk never really held much fascination for sex, or any form of physical contact in general. As long as he could vent some adrenaline in a fight with Yoru, he didn't see the need for anything else.

In some way, you guided him to uncover something new, something that presently, he could not fathom sharing with anyone else. You were extraordinary, adeptly handling his energy and rhythm, even asking for more when he thought he was pushing you to your limits.

Locating a deserving adversary in battle was difficult enough, bordering on the impossible. It was uncommon to encounter someone who could hold their own till the end, without instantly yielding to his overwhelming power. Discovering that he had found a well-matched partner in matters of intimacy was, against his initial beliefs, delightfully satisfying. He had never made a conscious effort to seek one, as he could always achieve quick self-gratification if the need became particularly pressing. He was accustomed to handling things himself, both metaphorically and literally, never craving company.

You had bewitched him, as he now seemed more than willing to endure your presence around him after all.

Leaving your vessel was unequivocally necessary. Awakening next to you felt unfamiliar, and your slumbering figure looked so delicate, endearing and warm. He needed to clear his mind of that image, seeking solace in a breath of fresh air.

Admittedly, it was a bit mortifying for him, but when he noticed the small strap of your top sliding off your shoulder, exposing a considerable portion of your upper breast, Mihawk felt compelled to tighten his jaw and inhale deeply, as a means to master his physiological reaction in the morning. For someone as disciplined and self-restrained as he was, it was inconceivable to be so agitated over a woman.

He had spent a lifetime sailing the open seas, encountering numerous women who endeavored to enchant him over a casual drink and similar enticements. Yet, he never spared them even a fleeting glance, regardless of how attractive they might be. Occasionally, some resorted to more drastic measures to capture his attention, but the sight of an unclothed woman had never provoked such an intense response in him. It was part of human nature, it was merely a body, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

So what was it about you that had suddenly ensnared Mihawk so profoundly? Why did he even opt to spend the night beside you?

It was preposterous. Absurd. Ludicrous. He had more important matters to handle than filling his mind with thoughts of someone.

And as he strolled through Loguetown's quiet lanes at the break of day, he grappled with finding an explanation that held any logic.

Unsuccessfully, at that.

You repeatedly webt through the message Mihawk left behind, imprinting his distinct handwriting and the words he composed deep into your consciousness. There was an instance when you doubted his presence, questioning whether your drowsy state had fabricated an apparition that had never claimed a spot in your bed.

And if that piece of paper wasn't sufficient proof, the residual fragrance on the pillow, which you found yourself breathing in for a whole hour, provided further confirmation of its authenticity.

In line with your plan, you assumed a new disguise and set off on another expedition around the town. Your bag was packed with a generous amount of trinkets, new clothes, and essential supplies that would prove useful during your sea voyage. A part of you had wished for another run-in with the Warlord, but it didn't happen. His note had mentioned 'seeing you around', but it didn't provide any specific timeframe.

For all you knew, it could be weeks or even months from that day before your paths crossed again.

Your muscles were aflame, and even the simplest movement felt like a daunting task. He was an absolute beast during sex, and despite your ability to keep up with his stamina, there was a threshold to what your body could endure without experiencing the repercussions afterwards.

Instead, it seemed to amplify your desire for him, a progression that was somewhat disconcerting for you and an aspect you didn't anticipate. You had no plans of becoming reliant, or overly emotionally tangled with an unpredictable man like Dracule Mihawk. You valued your liberty, a fundamental principle that had formerly kept you away from any potential romantic involvement with Isaiah.

You were familiar with the notion of physical closeness without any additional expectations. You had the chance to settle down far before that day, in spite of the bounty on your head that forced you to hop from one island to another. You consciously relinquished it all.

For your own sanity, whatever influence Mihawk had imposed on you needed to fade as quickly as possible. The last thing you needed was a shattered heart, especially considering that you seemed to be nurturing authentic feelings for a man who would probably never be able to return your affection.

Your expedition to Loguetown turned out to be notably successful. Despite the high presence of marines surveilling the area, it posed no apparent threat to you. By this point, you had become skilled at assuming disguises, seamlessly blending into any role you decided to enact. There was a certain level of enjoyment in it, if it weren't for the serious consequences that were at stake.

On your return to Isaiah's headquarters, you slipped into one of your newly acquired outfits and reclined on the ship's deck. With your arms comfortably propped behind your head, you found yourself gazing up at the unblemished blue sky, breathing in the familiar salty air that you had grown to love. Occasional cramps continued to bother you, but they couldn't stop you from reminiscing about your fervent night. However, you had to swiftly suppress the emerging picture, or you'd find yourself growing increasingly flustered, merely envisioning Mihawk's sturdy chest and the sensation of his arousal penetrating your depths.

Undeniably, the fact that he was so devastatingly sexy didn't make things any easier.

Frustrated by your thoughts persistently reverting to places you didn't want to linger on, you rose to your feet and took several deep breaths to calm your senses and steady your nerves. You found tranquility in watching the pulsating waves and ripples of the ocean, the horizon line sharply separating the sea from the sky.

Although you savored the solitude and tranquility of your travels, there were occasions when you found yourself craving for some companionship. You yearned for someone to converse and share your explorations with, someone to sit beside under the celestial canvas of stars.

You wavered on the brink of giving in to the temptation to use your portable snail phone, considering reaching out to your family, to talk to them, to assure them of your safety. A part of you still harbored anxieties about their views of your predicament, the bounty the World Government had put on you, and the transgression you had committed for your own survival, a detail that no one seemed to consider.

It distressed you, but you stopped yourself midway. That had to wait. As for how long, you couldn't determine.

You were unaware that such a harrowing ordeal was finally drawing to a close.

The moment you set foot in Isaiah's home, he hurried towards you with a beaming smile and outstretched arms, pulling you into a tight, unexpected hug. His right hand gently glided up and down your back, while the other tenderly brushed through your hair.

"Uhh... it's good to see you too," you said, hesitantly returning the gesture. "It's only been a few days though, I didn't think you'd miss me this much.”

Isaiah chuckled into your ear. "Oh, come on. I mean, of course I missed you, but we both know this calls for a celebration.”

You regarded him as if he were inebriated. "How many bottles did you have?”

"Hey! You know I'm not like that. Well, sometimes... maybe. But I swear, I only had one glass after finding out.”

"Finding out... what?”

He let out another hearty chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah yeah, let's play the clueless game now.”

You arched an eyebrow at him, slightly tilting your head to the side. "Isaiah, I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about.”

Watching his smile dissolve into a look of utter disbelief was quite entertaining to observe. "Wait, are you serious?”

"I just returned and came directly to your quarters. What did I miss?”

His jaw slackened and his eyes ballooned in astonishment. "Holy crap. Sweetheart, this is big. I'm surprised it escaped your notice.”

You shrugged. "Well, perhaps you could shed some light on it then?”

Isaiah let out a breath, his wide smile making a comeback. As he briskly navigated through the room towards his desk, your eyes followed him. He began rummaging through an array of maps and papers strewn all over, looking for something specific.

"Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon this in the street.”

He passed you what seemed to be a bounty poster. It required a moment of processing to realize it carried your name, along with a troubled image of you captured shortly after your daring escape from the Marine base. But what truly gripped your attention was the text at the bottom; the former bounty of berries for your capture or death had been wiped out, supplanted by newly inked words stating "BOUNTY CANCELLED BY ORDER OF THE WORLD GOVERNMENT".

You had to read the statement at least ten times consecutively to fully comprehend what it conveyed.

Bounty cancelled.

Cancelled.

Your bounty had been cancelled.

You were quite sure that all color was draining from your face, and the shock was so intense that you couldn't even gather the strength to blink.

"Y/N? Are you okay?”

"I.... how.....?”

"What did you do to convince that group of jerks?”

You shook your head. "Isaiah, I did nothing. I swear to you, this is completely unexpected.”

"Huh, strange,” he responded, rubbing his nose. “Regardless, this is good news, isn't it?”

Such a miracle had been the object of your longing for several months, and you had resigned yourself to the likelihood of it remaining a far-fetched dream. After all, how could their opinion of you change, particularly after finding that Admiral in a pool of blood? There was no conceivable way they could interpret that episode from a different perspective. When you were in their grasp, not a single one of them demonstrated any shred of sympathy. What compelled the marines to change their decision?

Unless…

…Someone with close ties to them, wielding enough influence and strength, somehow managed to alter their viewpoint.

Someone like Mihawk himself.

There was no other feasible explanation. You knew the marines required him far more than he could ever possibly need them. Despite repeatedly telling yourself that you could be seriously wrong, that he wouldn't waste his time advocating and making threats for your sake to the World Government, there was a persistent inner voice suggesting otherwise. Because, what other reason could there be?

Your legs gave way beneath you, and you collapsed into a seated position on the floor, knees bent and spread out in a frog-like stance. Isaiah was initially stunned, but as soon as he saw the tears brimming at the corners of your eyes, he realized that your reaction was entirely appropriate given the joyous turn of events. He was well acquainted with the trials you had faced, and the anxiety you felt each time you came across your bounty posters strewn across the East Blue. And now, finally, after such a long period, you were completely free. Free to roam without the constant dread of a bounty hunter lurking at every turn, free to live the life you wanted without the looming threat of marines ready to seize you.

"Please tell me this isn't a joke," you managed to utter through choked emotions.

Isaiah squeezed your shoulder affectionately. "I can assure you it's not. This isn't the only poster I've seen of you with the cancelled bounty. I just grabbed one as a keepsake of this monumental occasion.”

And with that, the floodgates burst open, tear after tear spilling onto the poster, absorbing into the paper that you gripped just a tad too firmly, leading to its partial crumpling.

"I can finally see my family again," you whispered. "I can speak to them.”

"Are you planning to return home?”

"Not permanently. I should pay them a visit soon, but for now, I want nothing more than to hear their voices. It's been so long, Isaiah.”

"I know, Y/N, I know. You can't imagine how happy this makes me. You always deserved so much better than the nonsense they heaped upon you.”

A hiccup convulsed through your body, and your crying escalated with every passing minute, as a torrent of pain, relief, joy, and shock swept over you simultaneously. Isaiah stayed there, holding you like the trustworthy friend he was, providing support as you weathered this emotional storm. It was only when your tears had entirely dried up that your chest stopped heaving, and you managed to regain your composure. Your eyes, now red and swollen, smarted slightly as your makeup smeared against your skin. But in that moment, you couldn't have been less concerned.

Isaiah allowed you to use his bathroom to quickly freshen up, while he whipped up something sweet and scrumptious for you to eat and poured quality wine into your glasses. You always felt at ease and content in his company, which served as a stark reminder of the attraction you once held for him. Reflecting on it now, it felt almost absurd, given your current lack of feelings towards him. Of course, you still cared for Isaiah, but only in a platonic way that was no deeper than the sibling-like bond you had forged with him over the recent weeks.

Even the mere notion of being intimate with him felt utterly strange.

After savoring a few drinks and a selection of homemade cookies (he, unexpectedly, had a knack for baking and did it exceedingly well), you found a spot on his plush couch while he positioned himself on the opposite side, reclining in one of his signature straw chairs. Suddenly, his face took on a grave aspect, and he began to diligently sketch something onto a map. A short time later, he presented it to you, his apprehension palpable.

"You know, a pirate came by two days ago, asking about you and the kind of deals you're involved in.”

“Oh?”

"He requested me to arrange a meeting for you at this location, which is a day's journey away.”

“Okay…?”

Isaiah, with his far-reaching network of contacts, was well-known among many pirates and individuals alike. Although this wasn't his first time serving as an intermediary between you and other parties, he appeared significantly more troubled than you had ever seen him before.

"Y/N, to be honest, I don't think you should go.”

"Why is that?”

"I don't know... just a hunch. I did some research, and these pirates are not exactly reputable. Their captain is highly dubious and, quite frankly, potentially dangerous.”

You sat up straight. "Do you think this could be a trap?”

"Perhaps? I can't be sure. It's possible that the guy was a fake envoy and they've arranged for a group of bounty hunters to capture you.”

"If that's the case, then it wouldn't make any sense now, would it? My bounty has been cancelled, so even if they were to kill me, they wouldn't gain anything from it.”

He pursed his lips. "Yeah, you have a point. Given the recent development, it's possible you won't even find anyone waiting for you there.”

You smiled. "Well, I'd say it's worth a shot. You know I can handle myself, and any possible deal is a good deal for me. I can't afford to miss an opportunity.”

"Eh, I knew you would say that.”

He stretched his arms, standing up from the chair while stifling a yawn midway. "I know you're capable of protecting yourself, and I also realize that I wouldn't be able to dissuade you either way. If you want to investigate, then go ahead. Just... please be careful, okay?”

You nodded in response, thanking him for his concern as your gaze fixated absently on the marker on the map. Were his apprehensions justified? Were you on the verge of more unwanted trouble now that you were no longer a wanted criminal? You didn't know what to expect, but you had no intention of backing down from what could be a rewarding situation.

Moreover, you were known for your incredible stubbornness. Sometimes, it was among your most admirable qualities, yet in different contexts, it starkly highlighted your most conspicuous imperfections.

In any case, you were bound to find out soon enough.

Before withdrawing to his room for the night, Isaiah paused, only to falter and scratch his chin. He stared at the back of your hair, filled with uncertainty, before releasing a prolonged sigh.

"Hey, um, I wanted to ask...”

You turned your head, giving him a sidelong glance over your shoulder. "Hmm?”

He looked anxious, seemingly ill at ease, stumbling over his words. "There's something I.... that they.... I mean....”

You frowned, the corner of your lips twitching slightly. "Isaiah, what are you stammering about?”

He laughed awkwardly. "Ah, don’t mind me. I believe I've had one too many drinks.”

"Eh. What's new, right?”

"Aye, you know how I am.”

He fell silent, his eyes getting lost somewhere on the floor. You waited for him to continue, but ultimately, he dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Nah, I don't even recall what I wanted to say. It's probably better if I sleep on it.”

You nodded, offering a gentle smile. "Of course. Sleep well, Isaiah.”

"You too.”

It was strange, given that you had seen him intoxicated numerous times, yet he appeared to be perfectly lucid and walked without any difficulty. Whatever he had intended to say, you were left in the dark.

And that was, in fact, another revelation that would come to you in a short span of time.

The rhythmic beat of music permeated the air as you set foot on Mirror Ball Island, a place celebrated for its endless parties and vibrant nightlife. The streets were teeming with color and activity, even in broad daylight — an ideal camouflage for any potential danger lurking within.

The instructions that Isaiah had provided were quite vague. They hinted that you were supposed to be at the Neon Mirage, a well-known club that was perpetually open to locals and tourists alike. The name you were supposed to keep an eye out for was Nicholas Burke, the pirate captain who had arranged the meeting through his trusted messenger. You had certainly heard of him before, but struggled to recall the face depicted on his bounty poster.

The nightclub was situated on the fringes of the main strip, a hub for the island's more covert activities, a place where deals were made away from prying eyes. As you maneuvered through the crowd of party-goers, your senses remained keenly attuned.

Admittedly, you weren't particularly drawn to this kind of lifestyle. You greatly preferred your privacy and peace, without the concern of random people colliding into you. You had to repeat the pirate's name several times, inquiring about him from anyone you encountered. Eventually, the bartender, dressed in a flamboyant purple suit, pinpointed the man's exact whereabouts, directing you toward a remote couch in a corner.

You could barely make him out, partially obscured by the other men around him and the energetic dancers that were circling and obstructing your path.

A few of them even tried to involve you, coaxing you to join their dance by taking hold of your arms and swinging them up and down to the beat. It was unsettling, and you had to suppress the urge to punch them in the face.

You managed to extricate yourself, almost tripping over your own feet in the process, but as soon as you had a clear sight of the man in question, your blood seemed to halt in your veins.

While you couldn't remember his face from the wanted poster, you could definitely recognize him from your recent meeting with him. Right there, just a few inches away, sat the same pirate you had run into in Loguetown, the audacious man who dared to challenge Dracule Mihawk in a bid to seize his title. For a moment, you wondered whether he had recognized you, seen past your disguise and known your true identity all along. But the more you dwelled on that possibility, the more you convinced yourself that it couldn't be the case.

You had met your fair share of dubious individuals and despicable pirates, yet you were strongly tempted to simply turn around and leave, not wanting to waste a single moment with someone of his ilk. But then, the smuggler within you prevailed, reminding you that you needed all the money and artifacts you could gather to sustain a decent life on the open sea.

It couldn't be that terrible, could it? Just a few minutes to strike a suitable deal; there was no need to pretend to be friendly.

Gritting your teeth, you took a few steps towards the crew, purposefully keeping a menacing demeanor that would live up to your former nickname.

His attention immediately shifted to you, an eyebrow raised. Considering your bounty posters were quite prominently plastered all over the East Blue, it didn't come as a surprise that he could readily identify you. “Ah, look who it be," he bellowed over the booming music. "If it ain't the bloody Cutthroat herself!”

Your smile felt strained, but you didn't feel the need to impress him.

"Or should I say, the not-so-Cutthroat anymore.”

"What can I say," you responded, folding your arms. "Clearly someone's gone and printed the wrong thing.”

The pirate let out a laugh, his mouth gaping so wide that it seemed almost inhuman.

"You must be Nicholas Burke, I gather. I heard you have something for me.”

"Straight to the point, eh? I like that.”

The pirate, radiating a deceptive sense of camaraderie, rose to his feet and motioned for you to follow him to a more secluded area. "I've got a private spot where we can chat uninterrupted," he stated, his voice smooth and enticing.

You mentally grumbled, because he couldn't appear any more suspicious than he already did.

"My, what an honor. Did you reserve the VIP room just for me?”

Nicholas shrugged. "Aye aye. Only the best for a fine lass such as yourself.”

Ugh, what a nuisance.

Playing along, you trailed behind him through a labyrinth of winding corridors, the clamor of the club receding as you left the main hall behind. You arrived in a dimly lit back room, secluded from the watchful gazes of the other patrons.

The room was sparsely furnished, with just a few chairs and a sturdy beam spanning across the ceiling. It felt more like an interrogation chamber than a lounge area. Only two of his men had accompanied you, stationed at the closed door like vigilant sentinels.

Oh yes, not dubious in the slightest.

Once again, you did exactly what was expected of you, sitting across from him with an air of pretended obliviousness. "So, what is this all about?”

The pirate tilted his head to the side, regarding you with a pair of lazy, inquisitive eyes. "Have we met before, love?”

Gross.

"I would have remembered that," you replied.

"Mh. And yet, you remind me of someone.”

"Clearly. You recognized me from the bounty posters.”

He sat up straight, his eyes narrowing. "Nay, it's something else. I feel like I've conversed with you already.”

You crossed your legs, blinking innocently. "I meet many people.”

His head bobbed repeatedly, as if he were attempting to unravel your disguise and see through your falsehood.

"Now, can we please get down to business and discuss why you summoned me here?”

His expression darkened, and the way he leaned forward, licking his lips and shifting his right hand into his pocket, certainly did not signal anything good.

"Ah, you see, my dear, I've caught wind of some rumors.”

"That seems to be the trend these days.”

Nicholas flashed a wicked grin. "Indeed. But these particular rumors piqued my interest.”

You tightened your grip around your knee. "Is that so?”

"Would ya like to know what they're all about?”

No.

"It appears you're itching to tell me anyway.”

He nodded again, silently, seemingly taking pleasure in the visible erosion of your patience.

"That's quite a piece of news. Word is that one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, none other than Dracule Mihawk, has been seen around the East Blue quite frequently in recent weeks.”

Your eyes drifted towards the ceiling. "Yeah? And that should matter to me because...?”

He erupted into another boisterous laugh, and you had to restrain yourself from pinching your nose to block out the terrible stench of alcohol wafting from his mouth.

"Oh, you're good at this.”

"Good at what?" You inquired.

He cleared his throat, reverting back to his serious, intimidating demeanor.

"Now, don't play coy, sweet thing. There's no need for you to act oblivious.”

"I'm afraid you'll need to be more straightforward than that.”

He snickered, and you couldn't help but continually glance at the hand that was restlessly gripping his pocket for no apparent reason.

"We both know what those rumors suggest."

"Do I, though?”

He growled slightly. "Damn right you do. As a matter of fact, the Warlord has been seen in the company of a woman. The Cutthroat, they say. You, my dear.”

Well, that was unexpected.

Given that Mihawk had come to your aid in a public tavern, it wasn't entirely absurd. But when you took into account the pirate's lingering bruises and his determination to seize the Warlord's title, you started to grasp the real motive behind this encounter on Mirror Ball Island.

Nicholas Burke wasn't seeking your services, nor was he looking to negotiate a deal with you. Or at least, not the kind of deal you were used to.

No, this was likely nothing more than a contrived scheme he had concocted to draw the Warlord's attention, and that could only imply one thing: he had no intention of letting you leave the Neon Mirage. Not of your own accord and certainly not without restrains.

At that point, your feigned smile disappeared from your face. "I came here because you said you had a job for me. I didn't travel all the way to this island for a bunch of rumors.”

"Oh, but I do, in fact, have a job for ya.”

With your heightened senses, you could feel the other men approaching with the stealth of a cat, prepared to spring into action. You heard the faint sound of something heavy being drawn from their holsters, noticed their shadows and looming presence creeping closer.

"All I expect from you is to be a good lass.”

It all unfolded so rapidly, and you had to respond on instinct when one of them lifted his rifle, preparing to hit you in the head with the stock of it. You propelled yourself upwards and swiveled around, ducking and grabbing the weapon with all the force you could muster. Before the other pirate could hurl his enormous hammer at you, you grabbed the dagger at your side and plunged it directly into your attacker's abdomen. You evaded the second blow as the injured man whimpered in pain and coiled into a fetal position on the floor. Pushing the chair aside, you landed a strong kick to the chest of the other man, making him reel backward. Immediately afterward, you pulled out your gun and took a precise shot, targeting his leg.

Streams of blood trickled down from their wounds, staining the polished floor.

Unfortunately, you had misjudged the odds at your disposal, as there was a third man in the room to whom you had forcibly exposed your back. You barely registered a hand coming from behind, pressing a piece of cloth against your mouth and nose. It didn't take long for you to realize that the fabric was drenched in some sort of sedative. You immediately felt your muscles becoming numb and your body weakening moment by moment as the arsenic disseminated through your limbs.

You tried to resist it, flailing your arms and legs in a vain attempt to break free from his grasp.

"Shhh, don't fight it," Nicholas murmured into your ear, his voice reverberating in your head and growing faint.

The world around you blurred and dimmed as the drug took effect, and you slumped into his arms, unable to free yourself from his vile grip.

"Sweet dreams.”

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself in a very grim situation. A thick, rough rope coiled tightly around your torso, securing your wrists to your spinal column. The rope was threaded through a pulley system affixed to the beam above, and you were hoisted into the air, your feet suspended several feet off the ground.

Your head was foggy, but as soon as you fully came back to your senses, you pulled and thrashed to no avail.

Nicholas was now occupying the same chair you had been seated in, looking at you with a satisfied, venomous smirk. More of his crew had filtered in, lounging casually around the room with drinks in their hands. The red stains were still present, but you couldn't locate the injured men anywhere.

The tightness of the binding restricted your movements, and the coarse material bit into your skin with every slight motion.

The pirate rose to his feet once more and advanced, his malicious smile highlighted by the dim light. "Comfortable?" he jeered. "I hope so, because you're going to be up there for quite some time.”

The sound of the party continued to echo faintly in the background, a stark contrast to the silent, heavy atmosphere of the room you were in.

"What exactly do you hope to achieve here?" You demanded angrily.

"Ah, it's quite simple. I have no interest in killing you, you're nothing more than a tool.”

"A tool for what? You're merely wasting your time.”

He shook his head, clucking his tongue. "Oh, I know precisely what I'm doing.”

"Mihawk isn’t even aware that I'm here.”

"I'm not acting blindly, Miss Cutthroat.”

Did he really think that Mihawk would monitor all your movements? Granted, he had proven more than capable of doing so, finding you wherever you went, pursuing you at the behest of the World Government. But now that he no longer had a valid excuse to follow you with your bounty out of the way, it seemed unlikely that he would seek you out solely for the pleasure of your company.

As painful as it was to acknowledge that to yourself.

"Aren't you his woman or something? You of all people should know that Dracule Mihawk is exceptionally resourceful. He's a predator, the marines' lapdog.”

You chuckled, feeling the bindings holding tight. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm nobody's woman. Least of all his. Whatever rumor you've heard about us, there's no truth in it.”

You could see the uncertainty flickering in his eyes, the concern of having made a colossal mistake.

"You're just saying that to throw me off.”

"Oh no, I assure you. And besides, you're delusional if you think you can defeat him.”

He squinted at you, taking another step closer. "Where have I seen you before?”

"Again? I've already told you we've never met.”

He brought his fingers to his chin, scrutinizing your face in contemplation. "Nah, I'm not buying it. There's something in your eyes, even in your voice. You look familiar.”

How could he even recognize you considering the vast difference between your normal behavior and the masculine role you'd played in Loguetown? Was he truly that astute to realize you were the same boy he'd agreed to bring along?

And then, his eyes widened, and he repeatedly pointed at you, his index finger moving in a gesture of recognition. "Wait, yes, of course! You were that boy, weren't you? That skinny runt from the tavern in Loguetown.”

Apparently, he was indeed.

And that suggested your disguises weren't as foolproof as you had believed.

“Who?”

"No, no, no, don't even try to deny it. It was you! I'm certain of it. That's why you were so desperate to be there, you weren't interested in watching the fight. You were looking for the Warlord.”

Damn it.

"Can you believe this, lads? Our lady friend over here is the same cabin boy from Loguetown!”

Suddenly, all eyes were focused on you, and a wave of collective amusement erupted around you, punctuated by cries of surprise and disbelief.

"Oh, you must have run into my younger brother," you fabricated.

"Yeah, right. And I'm a fish-man.”

It was now futile to attempt to persuade him, as this pirate proved to be far more intelligent and observant than you had initially estimated.

"Heh. If I had known you were so... enticing, I would have interacted with you differently.”

A knot formed in your stomach as he swept his lustful expression all over you, gnawing on his lower lip and unnervingly hovering his fingers near your belt. The menacing laughter from his crew sent shivers down your spine, prompting your mind to envision situations you'd prefer not to be involved in.

You exhaled a sigh of relief the moment he retreated back to his seat. "Such a shame, really. For my plan to be successful, we must ensure you remain entirely... intact.”

How did you land in such a predicament? You possessed an uncanny ability to land yourself in the most dreadful situations, even now, when the constant threat of bounty hunters lying in ambush was no longer a concern.

"Whatever plan you're cooking up, it's bound to fail. You stand no chance against him”

Nicholas drew in a frustrated breath. "Don't you think I'm aware of that? That rascal could have cut us down in one sweep if he'd wished.”

"You were the one who provoked him. You appeared quite certain of your ability to best him.”

He shrugged. "You know how it goes. You'll never know unless ya give it a shot.”

Your arms throbbed from the strain of the rope, but the knots were so meticulously tied that only a knife could grant you freedom.

"I fail to understand, then. If he were to stride through that door, your crew would be finished.”

The pirate clasped his hands before him. "Ah, but this is where my strategy comes into play. With you suspended up there, directly within my reach, he will be helpless. It's either you or his reputation. That's the real reason I needed you.”

"You're joking, right? You know how fast he is. You can't seriously think he'll stand by and let you have your way.”

He appeared indifferent, slouching further into the back of his chair.

"He's not the type of man to sacrifice everything for a woman, anyway. He would never grant you your desires, not even if you threaten to kill me.”

"Yeah, whatever.”

His strategy was riddled with flaws, a testament to his clear desperation to usurp Mihawk's position, regardless of the fallout for him and his entire crew.

"Your bounty was rescinded," he declared. "The World Government never does that unless there's a specific reason that serves its interests.”

You could sense the bitterness in his tone, the unmistakable tinge of envy.

"Your association with him has earned you this privilege. How is that fair?”

You exhaled. "I was under the impression that pirates took pride in their bounties.”

"Oh, don't misunderstand me, I never cared that much. But having the marines hounding me wherever I go is bothersome. A Warlord of his status doesn't need to fret about anything or anyone standing in his way.”

"So that's your ambition? To become a Warlord and do as you please? To usurp his title when your swordsmanship is nowhere near his level?”

"That's enough.”

You laughed derisively at him. "And you believe the World Government would even consider you? The gap between you and Mihawk is exponential.”

He rose so quickly that the chair skidded backward, and his fury was so palpable now that you were certain he could incinerate you with his eyes alone. “Hold your tongue!”

The bile in your mouth was too toxic to suppress. "Mihawk earned his title. You only want to steal it because you know you can't achieve it through merit. How pitiful can you be?”

Nicholas drew his gun, the elongated barrel aimed squarely at your forehead. "I could simply conclude this here, pull the trigger right now.”

You knew he wasn't bluffing, and once again, you had to tread carefully with your words. "Then you're signing your own death warrant either way.”

His hand trembled, and you could hear the telltale clink of bullets shifting within the metal confines. “The bait is set, and the prize is right here in my hands. Say what you will, I couldn't care less about your unsolicited opinion, lass.”

You could feel the blood circulation in your limbs being cut off, with prickling sensations painfully shooting through your elbows, forearms, and hands. There was a possibility that Mihawk would never make an appearance, potentially leaving you in an extended state of suspense before Nicholas initiated a counteraction. Worse yet, he could completely dispose of you the moment your presence was deemed unnecessary.

If only you had heeded your instincts the moment you encountered him in Neon Mirage, instead of sticking to your obstinacy and avarice. What would a lost deal have signified? It wasn't as though better opportunities were out of reach.

With your hands constricted, you couldn't grab anything even if you wished to, and all your weapons had been carefully confiscated. You pulled and scraped at the ropes in a bid to slacken the knots, but it only served to tire your fingers and nearly snap your nails.

You were starting to accept the grim reality that survival might not be in your cards this time around.

Until the thunderous noise of the wooden door splintering, catapulting forward to hit three pirates simultaneously and subsequently knocking them unconscious before splitting in half, caused you to startle in surprise.

A piercing, icy atmosphere pervaded the entire room. The air appeared to turn colder, and the light wavered as if reacting to the aura of something—or someone—genuinely fearsome. There, at the doorway, stood Dracule Mihawk, his eyes gleaming with a foreboding intensity. Yoru was securely gripped in his right hand, his distinctive hat partially veiling his face, casting it in shadow.

He progressed agonizingly slow, stepping into the room while the rest of the crew recoiled in fear.

The pirate captain, momentarily taken aback, quickly regained his composure by clearing his throat. "Mihawk," he called out, forcing a confidence he didn’t truly feel. "You've come. Just as I hoped.”

Mihawk's gaze swept over the environment, zeroing in on the sight of you hanging in mid-air. His eyes tightened, and his grip on Yoru's handle subtly intensified. Without a spoken word, he moved forward, each step measured and deliberate.

“Stop right there!" The pirate captain barked, his voice shaking. "One more step, and I'll-”

In a fraction of a second, four men rallied and formed a defensive wall, brandishing their swords and guns in a show of intimidation. In a blink, Mihawk launched an air slash, propelling the pirates through the air to land with a thud.

You noted just how severe their wounds appeared to be, with one man lying on his back, his eyes wide and his face growing pale, with bits of his insides showing from the nasty opening.

Mihawk didn't even physically touch them; he struck them all in one swift move, distributing his attack evenly.

Panic broke out among the leftover pirates, but it was too late. Mihawk moved with an efficiency that bordered on the supernatural, his blade gleaming and humming. Every strike was lethal, every movement nimble and graceful.

The ones who survived, wisely chose to flee for their lives, vacating the room amidst desperate cries and guttural screams.

The pirate captain, now frantic, seized his pistol again and pressed it against your side. "Don't move!" he shrieked. "Or I'll kill her!”

Mihawk halted, his penetrating gaze meeting the captain's. "You're already dead," he stated, his voice a low, apathetic, yet menacing murmur that induced shivers even in you.

"We can resolve this peacefully, there's no need for further bloodshed," Nicholas proclaimed. "I'll release her, but you must relinquish your title to me.”

Mihawk viewed him as if he were a mere reject, a man lacking in any semblance of dignity. When his golden orbs landed on you, you responded with a shake of your head. You held deep skepticism that he would ever prioritize your wellbeing, but you still wished to ensure he wouldn't act on any sudden impulses.

His shoulders appeared to relax, and as he fastened Yoru to his back, Nicholas cackled like a lunatic, "Good choice.”

You sensed the cold metal barrel of the gun leaving your side, and watched as Nicholas slid in front of you, tauntingly waving the weapon at Mihawk.

And that was a tremendous mistake on his part.

"What do you need this for anyway? You're strong. You already have the power to do as you please.”

Now, he was the one left exposed, his back enticingly within your reach. Given the choice, you would prefer to spare his pathetic life, letting him wallow in his own despair. However, this pirate had displayed a worrying degree of determination, and there was a substantial risk that he might initiate another assault, targeting either you or Mihawk.

And while it wouldn't pose a real issue to him, for you, it could be rather perilous.

"I'm not a fool, Warlord. I know I can't defeat you. But I could fire at both of you before you have time to react, and as invincible as you may be, I doubt you'd be immune to a bullet in your head.”

No, you couldn't let that happen. Despite potentially overanalyzing the situation and having confidence in Mihawk's abilities and survival instincts, it was a risk you were not prepared to take, regardless of how insignificant it might be.

And quite honestly, you had grown tired of these men treating you as nothing more than an object to be shackled and tormented.

Without wasting another second, you initiated a pendulum motion by swinging your legs back and forth, then wound them around the pirate’s neck from behind, tightening your thighs and entrapping his head in a vice-like grip. Nicholas was struggling for breath, grasping at your left leg with one hand as you endeavored to maintain your position, careful not to twist excessively. Before he could pull the trigger and fire a bullet into your knee, Mihawk flicked his wrist, launching his golden knife straight into the pirate's hand. A groan of pain echoed as the pistol clattered onto the floor, and Mihawk's compact dagger pierced through the pirate's thick glove, dyeing the leather a bright crimson.

You were enraged, throttling him forcefully while gritting your teeth. Mihawk stayed emotionless, observing the scene without even a blink. You could have let up, allowed the man to fall unconscious and collapse, but you persisted. Nicholas fought back for as long as he could, keeping his feet planted firmly on the ground in an upright stance.

With a final effort, you twisted your hips and a resonating snap echoed through the room. Nicholas' arms finally went limp, and his legs buckled like melting gelatin. You let him go, his body falling forward, void of any motion, completely lifeless.

It wasn't your first instance of claiming a life for self-protection, but it never brought you any hint of satisfaction. It was something you did out of necessity.

Furthermore, you were weary of being rescued like a damsel in distress. You wanted to demonstrate to Mihawk that you could hold your own, without behaving like a helpless doll awaiting liberation.

You gasped for breath, the rope gently rocking, strands of your hair falling onto your face. Mihawk casually reclaimed his knife, extracting it from the dead man's hand and using the pirate’s clothing to wipe the blade clean of blood. The pendant was whole again, its other half coming together with a clink against his chest.

As he rose to his feet, he extended his hand to Yoru's hilt once more, severing the rope suspending you with a diagonal stroke. His speed was extraordinary, executing an elegant twirl to ensure you didn't plummet, catching you around the waist the moment you descended. You found yourself nestled against his chest, your feet softly landing on the floor as though you had gently floated down. His robust, inebriating scent wafted into your nostrils and permeated your lungs, his warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket on a chilly night.

You raised your head, your eyes meeting his, your breath catching in your throat. He was observing you with his usual detached expression, yet you could detect something else hidden in those golden irises. Could it be guilt, perhaps? You couldn't be sure. It was likely just your mind creating illusions.

Your fingers let go of his coat and you disengaged, turning away with a subtle smile. "How do you always manage to find me?”

As you moved towards your belongings, Mihawk replied, "This pirate ensured that I knew your precise location.”

"Ah. So he did have a clue about what he was doing, after all.”

“Hardly.”

You laughed lightly, repositioning your weapons and soothing your sore arms. "We should probably leave, before someone stumbles upon the chaos we've caused.”

You had scarcely finished your sentence when Mihawk was already crossing the threshold, where the door once stood. You kept up with his long strides at a quick pace, as the two of you walked through the corridors, the music intensifying and growing closer with each passing moment. The quest to reach the exit proved to be particularly amusing, with Mihawk tensing and pursing his lips in distaste whenever someone dared to graze his arms or boldly tried to tug him onto the dance floor.

Needless to say, drawing in some fresh air again was quite a relief, despite the equally boisterous and festive atmosphere outside. It appeared that some sort of dance competition was underway, but Mihawk wasn't the sort to show even the slightest curiosity about it. Without uttering a word, he pivoted on his heels and strolled away, not even bestowing a single glance in your direction.

His dealings with you were over, after all. He had come to your rescue a second time, journeying to a place he clearly found unappealing. What else could possibly keep him on the Mirror Ball Island now that his task involving you was accomplished?

And yet, this time you were resolute in not letting him depart.

"Where do you think you're going?”

He managed to catch your words, even amidst the chatter and ongoing festivities in the street. "Anywhere that isn't this jarring parade.”

Without overthinking, you grabbed his clothed arm and pulled him away from the main path, heading into an alley that seemed quiet enough for conversation without straining your voice. Itriguingly, Mihawk acquiesced, and you both seemed to find a measure of peace in that corner that felt detached from the rest of the town, shrouded in darkness and seclusion, with no one else in sight.

You positioned yourself in front of him, arms folded. He waited silently, barely inclining his head as he studied you.

There was so much you longed to express, but your heart held you back. Without beating around the bush, you dove straight into the crux of the matter, as it was the primary reason why you could likely abandon your disguises entirely now.

"It was you, wasn’t it? You persuaded them to revoke my bounty.”

A trace of satisfaction surfaced on his features, though he was careful to mask it. "If that's what you believe.”

"Are you suggesting they changed their minds out of the pure kindness of their hearts?”

His eyes drifted away, resting on a random point beyond your head. "I can't read their minds.”

"Mihawk, seriously. There's no way they'd just cancel it out of the blue. Especially considering they’ve even sent you after me in the first place.”

His focus fell back on you, steady and earnest. Yet somehow, you could detect a hint of gentleness.

"Mihawk, I owe you my gratitude. You've done so much for me that I can't even begin to fathom how I could ever repay you.”

"You're not in debt to me.”

"Yes, I am. You've saved my life, what, three times if we consider the fact you ignored the orders? And now you've managed to get my bounty removed in the blink of an eye.”

He pondered over it, searching for the appropriate response to provide. "I have no interest in any form of repayment. I've done precisely what I wanted, no more and no less.”

You smiled, for his words were an indirect admission of his involvement. You were already conscious of that, but it was reassuring to know you weren't wrong.

"Why did you choose to come here today?”

"Why wouldn't I?”

"Because I'm not your responsibility. But you always end up saving me from the worst kind of situations.”

His eyes rolled upwards. "You have a particular talent for getting yourself into those.”

“Fair point.” You moved a bit closer, casting an even larger shadow over him. "But that doesn't answer my question. Did you have… concerns about me?”

His jaw clenched, and Mihawk remained entirely silent.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting you to show up.”

His eyes were deep and magnetic, riveted on your face as if to hypnotize you, unblinking. How could he weave such a spell on you? How could he make you succumb to his charm, right when you were meant to fear him more than anyone else?

And then, his reply came, surpassing anything you could have ever imagined.

"No one touches what’s mine and lives to tell the tale.”

His abrupt proclamation caught you entirely off guard, spoken as though it was the most straightforward and self-evident fact. You had to replay it over and over in your head, simply because you struggled to believe you'd heard him correctly.

Had he really confessed to viewing you as significant? Or, at the very least, did he regard you as valuable enough to deem you as someone worthy of his affection (or whatever that was supposed to be)?

A blush heated your cheeks, but the dimly lit alley was kind enough to keep it concealed.

"Did I miss something?" You questioned aloud. "I wasn't aware of the fact that you considered me as yours.”

The way he diverted his gaze, displaying a touch of irritation, yet so noticeably disconcerted and mildly anxious, caused your heart to race and stomach to flutter.

"If you see this as a game, I have no inclination to participate.”

Was that uncertainty in his voice? The fear of you treating what you had as mere amusement? You had been forthright with him that you weren’t toying around, and you deeply cherished every kiss you exchanged, every touch, every sigh or groan.

If anything, you believed he was the one taking it less seriously than it meant to you. And now, witnessing his determined possessiveness, you felt as though the floor had vanished beneath your feet.

"This isn't a game, Mihawk. It never was.”

You guided your hand upward, allowing your fingertips to graze the smooth skin of his chest, trace the outline of his cross dagger, and lightly touch his collarbones. One might assume that he didn’t enjoy it, that your touch left him unaffected. But the rhythm of his heart, steady yet robust, could be felt against your palm.

"About that payment thing," you whispered, bringing your nose to his coarse cheek. "I might have a suggestion. Of course, only if you're open to it.”

Merely thinking about it made you feel improper, even indecent, considering you were still in a public location. Still, you couldn’t suppress your instincts, as having him so close to you again sparked that familiar fire within, that sexual tension, that instinctive tightening in your core.

Mihawk picked up on it immediately, judging by the sensual tone of your voice and the growing desire evident in your darkened eyes. The sun had long set, which only served to provide the two of you with even greater privacy. Given that the alley ended in a dead end, you could easily prevent anyone from sneaking in from the other side.

Everyone was preoccupied with the music, watching the competition that had just begun. No one was sparing even a single glance in your direction, it was just the two of you, secluded in your own bubble of physical longing.

"Do as you see fit," he responded indifferently. "Kneel and make use of that mouth of yours.”

You froze, your lips halting their motion against his jaw. Did he really say what you thought he said?

In the end, it wasn't much different from what you had envisioned. As you looked at him, slightly shocked but delighted that his desires matched yours, Mihawk remained motionless and commanding. Even in the darkness, you could see the molten gold of his irises, as if they glowed with their own vitality.

You grinned, bending your legs and situating yourself in an improvised sitting position on the ground. Your knees ached against the asphalt, but you had more pressing matters to think about. Much more appealing matters.

You refused to break the eye contact, staring at him from below. Even from that angle, he was absolutely breathtaking, with the outline of his abs catching the nighttime illumination, his eyes shimmering, his lips curving, and his Adam's apple probing forward.

You moved your hands along his thighs, up and down, at a torturously slow pace. His baggy pants did little to hide the swelling bulge between his legs, but as much as you wanted to deliver him the satisfaction he deserved, you didn't want to rush the process.

You began to unbuckle his belt, pushing his pants just low enough to reveal more of his V-shaped waistline, his chiseled sides, and the beautiful, spongy head of his arousal. He didn't react at all, remaining as motionless as a sculpture, watching your every move.

You kissed him around the navel, leaving a trail of light-as-a-feather kisses all over his marble-like abdomen. You could see the outline of the veins spreading out and leading lower, the tip of his arousal reacting with a satisfied twitch.

Tentatively, you pushed the front of his trousers further down, being careful not to leave him entirely exposed. As much as you craved him, and despite the thrill you felt from the remote risk of being caught, you respected him too much to shame him. Undressing him was something you wanted to reserve for another occasion, either within the privacy of your cabin or anywhere else that offered ample seclusion.

"Get on it. I don't have all night.”

You stifled a laugh at his sudden impatience, which perfectly reflected how you tried to rush him the last time you lost yourselves in your heated intimacy.

"Do you really want me to finish so quickly? Where's the fun in that.”

Mihawk snorted, and you absolutely adored how riled up he was from your minor ministrations.

"Alright, just give me a moment.”

His arousal was perfect in every way, from every facet that you had the privilege to imprint in your memory. It was long, solid, rigid and smooth as velvet, decorated with a few pronounced veins running along his shaft. You wrapped the base with your dominant hand, sliding it up to the crown, and down again in a rhythmic motion. The sigh that slipped from his lips was barely discernible, but it was a clear indication of his momentary relief.

Then you increased the pressure, intensifying your grip, and running your thumb against the tight underside. His jaw clenched and his lips thinned into a line, providing you with the confirmation you needed about a job well executed.

In retrospect, you never really favored kneeling before a man. It invariably conveyed a sentiment of weakness and submission, and for this reason, you typically preferred to partake in this sort of physical exchange while lying on a bed. Mihawk had completely transformed your world, and you felt compelled to give him everything you had to offer, everything you were, inside and out.

You were starting to love him in your unique way. To love his reticence, his total disinterest in most things, his seeming indifference and nonchalance towards anything that didn't involve a good sword fight.

Brushing your hair aside, you enveloped the tip with your mouth, and closed it as soon as you had completely covered it, softly sucking on it a few times. You let it go with a moist popping sound, only to slide your tongue over the rest of it, treating his entire length to a sensual, tender lick.

You felt his fingers reach for the back of your head, gripping a handful of hair between them. It wasn't harsh in any way, but you recognized his silent encouragement for you to give him more, to take as much of him as you could handle, to present him with that special reward you'd been yearning to give. Your heart seemed on the verge of exploding, and you repositioned yourself on the ground, widening your legs for improved stability, and descending onto him while easing your throat.

His hand tracked your movements, but he let you progress without pushing you. He was in control, but at the same time, there wasn't a single trace of severity in his actions. You descended onto him, using your hand to stimulate what you couldn't reach with your mouth. He didn't seem to mind, holding your nape in his fist, and patiently waiting for you to adapt and accelerate your pace. You hollowed your cheeks, moaned against his skin, and found the perfect rhythm that wouldn't exhaust you, but also wouldn't bore him to the brink of irritation.

The cheering from the background reached your ears as if it were intended for you, accompanied by the sound of hands clapping fervently, whistles, and howls. His chest was rising and falling more rapidly, but he maintained his expression as impassive as it could possibly be.

His arousal, however, told a different story. You felt it shake and pulse in your mouth, growing in size and heat as you persisted. You gave it your best effort, drawing your other hand up to his stomach, feeling its contractions and vibrations.

It was astounding. You weren't even the one receiving pleasure, but for the first time, you felt more than fulfilled merely by being able to satisfy him.

You liked him. You genuinely did. That fact was indisputable.

It didn't take long for you to notice just how eager his erection was for release, how near you were bringing him to that delightful climax you both wanted. With his discipline and physical control, he resisted the urge to thrust his hips forward, giving you complete control to handle it on your own. And so, you alternated your movements, using your hand to caress his length while you focused more on the plush tip, only to lower again.

He was almost there, you could sense it.

"Don't spill a single drop.”

Again, his remark came entirely unexpectedly, but you valued his boldness just as much as anything else. Very slowly, you brought your lips up and lingered on the tip, only to let his full length go after a kiss on it. Biting your lower lip, you scarcely blinked as you echoed his forthrightness, smiling with contentment. "Who do you think I am?”

His hold on you eased, and as your hair tumbled back, he slid his fingers to the front, along your jawline, only to halt at your chin. His thumb brushed over your lips, from bottom to top, and settled at the corner.

"Oh, I know you are more than capable.”

Your body moved on its own, grabbing his wrist, and turning your head so that you could bestow a gentle kiss on his thumb. Mihawk's eyebrow slightly lifted, but he neither attempted to pull away nor reprimanded you for it.

Your smile broadened, and a chuckle came naturally to you as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and returned your attention to his arousal. And you went all the way in, moving your head more rapidly, ensuring that your tongue was stimulating all the right areas, your hand speeding up on the remaining length.

Your eyes instinctively shut, and in that instant, Mihawk's own gaze landed on the wall ahead of him, his throat working to swallow, and his lips parting. He didn't moan, he didn't make a sound. Or, to be more precise, none that you could hear over the music playing around you. The moment his climax reached him, his hips jerked, and your mouth was flooded with his essence, which you diligently kept secure and swallowed down, drop by drop.

It was unsurprisingly salty, with a mixed taste that ranged from sweet to sour. You kept your lips attached to him until you were sure there was nothing left for him to give, and true to your promise, none of it ever spilled onto the ground.

Under normal circumstances, you would consider it exceedingly filthy, distasteful, and utterly repugnant to do. But with him, even the things that seemed outrageous before now felt entirely natural. There were times when you felt extremely uncomfortable even with Isaiah, notwithstanding the guy's gentleness and respect for you.

With Mihawk, you felt as though anything was possible.

Now completely done, you ran one finger over your lips to ensure there were no remnants left, and he adjusted his clothes with his characteristic composure as you rose to your feet. You waited for him to finish, smiling like a little girl who had just carried out a secret mischief. When your eyes met again, your grin transformed into a tender smile. You took a step back, then another, and you turned to walk out of the alley without waiting for him to follow you.

You left him there, cooling down while you made your way back to your ship, navigating through the large crowd and leaving the booming music behind.

This time, you didn't lock the door of your cabin. You took off your leather jacket and tossed it over the couch, massaging your neck and taking a few deep breaths to calm your nerves. The fatigue was gnawing at you, with the soreness in your arms from the tight rope, your eyelids boring the weight of your exhaustion. And yet, the thought of sleep or pause was far from your mind. You wanted that moment to continue, your departure to be delayed, for Mihawk to remain present and not fade into the ether.

You idly loosened the laces of your shirt, allowing it to open and gently slide down your shoulders. You waited, you hoped, you even prayed.

You didn't have to do it for long, because soon enough, you heard the sound of his footsteps, and the click of the door closing behind him. You were beaming, your face illuminating at the sight of him, halting in front of you with an ostensibly blank expression, but one that held so much more.

Your lips met, colliding into an open-mouthed kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck. His hands made contact with your lower back, lifting the fabric of your shirt and slipping underneath it. You had just satisfied him, but that earth-shattering orgasm didn't seem even remotely sufficient to fulfill his desire for you.

And as your tongues intertwined, he could taste himself on it, which only ignited the wildness he was struggling to keep at bay.

You nudged his hat aside, holding its brim delicately between your fingers before letting it settle next to your jacket on the couch. Your shirt cascaded down to the floor, and in an instant, you found yourself drawn to the bed, pressed against the mattress, your wrists firmly held above your head.

The night promised to be lengthy and unforgettable, punctuated with whispers and intimate echoes, artfully veiled by the rhythmic tunes resonating from outside.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 6 ->

#one piece liveaction #opla mihawk #dracule mihawk #opla mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader

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