#Minke Too Late

[minkkinii]

Fyodor goes on Twitter 🦕

[jennablackmorebooks]

comfort zone :)

[2neaky]

24 Hours, Someone There When She Need

It's that time of the month ... well, almost.

—5.1 k words! content warnings: ovulation, emphasis on pms symptoms (whether realistic or not), moody/petty reader, attentive bf Connie, p in v, b*ckshots, vulgar s*x talk, cr*eampie—(☆) will be used in place of "Y/N" (banners by @adornedwithlight)

The deep slope of her stomach curves gently, just barely a muffin over the tight hem of her sweats. If she hadn't been staring so closely, analyzing every inch of her reflection's figure, she wouldn't have even noticed it.

But the sight is enough to have her kiss her teeth, the sharp sound slicing through the air.

"Are you fucking serious?"

Bringing dainty fingers to the area where her stomach protrudes the most, she presses the tips into her warm skin. What she expects to to feel is the plushness of her abdomen.

Not a taut surface, feeling as though it's stretched to its full capacity. Or the sharp pang of an ache deep in her lower stomach. A hiss slips past her thick, two-toned lips.

"Fuck." She presses more, prodding at different spots to see if her body would have the same reaction. All she notices is the gradual change in where her bloated stomach had grown tight and where it had remained somewhat soft.

In all her twenty-odd years of living, (☆) had never expected be one of the unlucky few who got bloated. This is a first, and she desperately wishes for it to be the last time.

What did she eat to cause this? God, she hopes it isn't because of that bread she ate last night. A gluten allergy this late in the game would fucking suck.

And this is uncomfortable, at best. Her stomach feels tight and overall, she just feels heavier than usual. Not to mention the pain. It echoes from the inside out.

She whines at the unfairness of it all before defeatedly lifting her chin to let her shirt fall back over her stomach.

Correction—her boyfriend's shirt.

(☆) prays the bloating will go away before the end of the day.

Nursing the carton of passion fruit sorbet in her lap, (☆) watches the Tv screen with wide eyes. The anticipation regarding the killer's next moves only grows.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," she whispers to herself, a spoonful of the sour treat stuck in her hand as she refuses a bite without seeing what happens next.

The shift and click of the front door, rather than the movie, has her jumping out of her seat. She looks over at it just in time to see Connie pushing his way into their apartment. The sight of which makes her heart skip a beat.

"Oh my fucking God, you scared the shit outta me," she laughs, breathless and holding her chest. She stretches forward to place her carton of sorbet on the coffee table.

"My fault ... didn't mean to do that," he smiles, shrugging off his jacket to place it in the nearby coat closet.

"You're good," she hums, making her way over to greet him.

Just as he's free, (☆) slides a hand up his chest, bracing herself as she leans in on her tippy-toes to plop a juicy kiss on his lips.

"Hey, baby," she beams, pulling back to look up at him through her fluffy mink lashes.

"Hey." His voice is soft and the traces of his cologne from earlier today flood her nose. "What you been doing?"

She shrugs and glances back at the Tv still playing in the dark living room. "Just watching a movie." Turning back, her eyes zero-in on her boyfriend's handsome face. If it were possible, her eyes would be two giant, blood-red hearts. "I missed you, though."

Her other hand joins its twin, still resting on his chest. In tandem, they slide up and around his shoulders. And Connie knows better than to not do anything about that; pale, tattooed arms encircle her waist.

Hugging her tight, his face immediately falls into the crook of her neck, her warm skin smelling like her usual rose-scented lotion.

"Missed you, too," he mumbles.

The vibration of his voice pulls a gentle giggle out of her. Connie pulls back from the crook of her neck, only to press a kiss to the portion of her forehead, where the band of her bonnet doesn't reach.

"How was work today?"

He does a half-shrug, not at all concerned with shit that's got to do with that place. Not when he's got his baby in his arms. Working at an auto-body shop isn't as exciting as it seems. "Regular shit. But I'm not tryna talk about that right now."

Another giggle. "Okay." (☆) sighs, the smile on her lips falling into a soft pout. "Why can't you just stay home with me?"

He scoffs, a teasing smile on his pink lips. "And who's gonna buy you all that expensive shit when you wanna go on your little shopping trips?"

With a playful roll of the eyes, she replies, "Fine. I just hate when you're gone so long."

Both of his dark, well-groomed brows pull together as he smile of confusion tugs at his lips. "It's just work, babe. You okay?"

(☆) blinks. "Yeah, why? I can't miss my man?"

"Ion know," he laughs, unsure. "You just ... Ion know."

"As your girlfriend, it should be normal that I just want to be buried in your skin at all times. C'mon now, Connie. You should know that."

Confusion melts away as he allows himself to fully laugh at her joke. "Aight."

Finally, they pull away. He steps into the living room, flipping on the lights. "You ain't go to work today?"

Taking up her carton of sorbet, (☆) goes for the forgotten bite. "Nope. I wasn't feeling it." Her tongue curls around the cool, silver spoon filled with the fruity, sour treat.

He hums, heading into the kitchen, (☆) following just a couple of feet behind.

"You might get your wish tomorrow."

Now it's her turn to look confused.

"I'm home tomorrow," he smiles, answering her silent question.

Gasping, her lips stretch upward. "Forreal?"

"Yeah, you got me all day."

Excitement isn't even the word. Before she can think of anything to say, Connie stretches over the island to pluck the spoon from her hand, stealing a bite of her sorbet.

"Hey!"

He takes the carton, too.

"You shower yet?"

She shakes her head, frowning as she watches him devour her favorite flavor.

"Good." He shovels another spoonful into his mouth. "I'ma meet you in there."

The hot pellets of water hit her body and cascade down her skin, covering her in a blanket of warmth. Suds crawl down her person and towards the drain.

(☆) can't wait for Connie any longer. Where is he?

As she watches a soapy bubble slip down her navel, her thoughts are brought back to her stomach. Fingers skate over the smooth and hot skin.

She's still bloated, though her stomach is a tiny bit softer. She hopes it isn't too noticeable.

The shower door pulls open and cool air rushes in, hitting her. It's slightly refreshing.

"You having fun in there?"

As the question leaves Connie's mouth, his gaze dips, noticing (☆)'s hands on her stomach. Immediately, they drop away.

"I already cleaned, you took too long," she rolls her eyes. "And hurry up and get in ... you letting all the steam out."

"Good." He steps into the shower, closing the door behind him. "You got the whole bathroom fogging up." He slides in right behind her, his body adding more heat to the shower. "Could barely even see two feet in front'a me."

She wants to roll her eyes again, because how dare he have her wait this long?

But, the urges dies away as soft hands grip her wide hips and warm lips are pressed into the side of her neck. Her rigid body relaxes.

Much like this bathroom, her mind fogs over as his hands travel up the sides of her body, only to slide up under her breasts to cup them.

And all (☆) can think about in this moment is how good his touch feels ... and how good it would be to get some dick right now.

His lips are moving against her neck. He's speaking and she's not even listening to the words coming out of his mouth.

Absolutely nothing can take her out of this moment ... except for the sharp pain that strikes throughout her boobs.

"Ow!"

She yanks away to face him.

"What?" His eyes are wide in panic, bouncing all over her face.

"Why did you squeeze so hard?" She almost yells, caressing her tender chest.

"My bad," he starts, eyes on her red-tinged skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you." His face creases with worry. "I thought you liked it, I usually squeeze 'em like that."

"Okay, well it hurt," she frowns.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice softening.

A tiny sigh slips past her lips. "Don't squeeze, just hold."

He nods. "Wash my back?"

"Yeah," she says, grabbing his wash net from the shelf. As she lathers it with soap, he turns his back to her. Ready, she begins with a. light scrub across the expanse of his skin.

The curves, ridges and dents of Connie's back shine through his tattoos. His biggest pieces are here. But the one that matters the most is pretty small—sitting on the perch of his shoulder: her name.

Slowly, Connie turns for her. (☆) keeps quiet, all of her attention poured into ensuring that he is squeaky clean.

Well ... until he focuses on just his body. And—fuck—his soap smells so good.

Her free hand presses to his bare chest, fingers splayed out against his tattoos. Before she realizes, she slips her hand down his stomach.

Her mind is running. Right now, she can skip all the foreplay. Shit, even head. Taking Connie in the shower would be so perfect.

Bent over, bracing the wall as he pounds into her from behind. Dick reaching so deep—

Her lower stomach aches wonderfully at the thought. And speaking of ache, she's sure his dick could fix that.

"Uh-uh, keep your focus."

Dark eyes flick upward to stare into his. A smirk ghosts at his lips.

"I can't touch it a little bit?"

The lust in her eyes is there, tangible. He almost laughs out of pure shock.

"You know Ion like shower sex," he smiles gently, taking up her hand to slips his fingers in between hers.

"Connie," she whines before kissing her teeth. "C'mon, please?"

"Nah, baby, we could do it after. I promise." He leans in to plant a kiss on her temple.

However, (☆) pulls away, even snatching her hand out of his hold. Frustration contorts her face.

"Why the fuck would we do it after we just showered?"

His eyebrows raise at her sudden switch in tone. "Woah."

"That's stupid, Connie. Like, what the fuck?"

Now he's making a face. "(☆)—"

Sucking her teeth, she pushes open the shower door and steps out.

And as good as her ass looks walking away, Connie can't help but to be thrown off.

By the time Connie had left the shower, (☆) was already in bed. The covers were pulled over her shoulders, and her back was turned to him.

"(☆) ... (☆)."

No answer.

"You serious right now?"

He's talking to himself. Sucking his teeth, Connie decides to move on with himself. He lotions his skin after drying off and gets dressed before climbing into bed.

The silence on (☆)'s end continues into the next morning, apparent by the other side of the bed left empty. Usually, she would wake him up.

It's only fair that Connie be pissed.

This is his day off, he's supposed to be enjoying it with her. How the fuck is he going to do that when she's ignoring him?

He doesn't even understand the reason for it either. It wasn't like he flat-out rejected her. He just said "not now."

And (☆) knows he doesn't like shower sex. It's too cramped and too slippery. Last time they did it, he almost slipped and busted his head open.

Scary times.

Shit, (☆) even agrees with him, regarding his feelings on shower sex. At least she usually did.

Either way, it just brings him back to his point—there was no reason for her to blow up at him like that. And there's no reason for her to be this upset.

He just hopes the silence doesn't last all day.

Sitting at the island, he shoves a spoonful of cereal and milk into his mouth. Because, of course, she only made breakfast for herself.

As he eats silently, he watches her stand at the electric kettle, waiting for the water to come to a full boil. There's a mug nearby, the tag for the raspberry tea bag hanging over the cup.

The kettle clicks as it shuts off. Carefully, she takes it up and pours the steaming water into the mug. As she does so, he eyes her closely, not caring to be caught.

Her tank top is tight against her body, practically a second skin. And it's making her boobs look great.

Totally an inappropriate time to be thinking this, he knows. God, he's like a horned up teenager. But he can't deny the obvious.

And usually, her boobs always look good. He's never been one to complain about them. But there's something about them today, he can't put his finger on it.

They look more ... full? A little heavier than usual.

And now that he's looking so closely, her nipples are poking. He glances up at her face, seeing that she's still choosing to ignore his staring.

Dammit, if that doesn't piss him off even more. Because even in a state of having just gotten out of bed, she looks beautiful. Her skin's got that soft, morning glow that's making it look all clear and her lips look so plump and kissable.

Why did they have to be fighting?

He shakes his head with a quiet sigh, lips pressed together in annoyance.

As (☆) turns to place the kettle back, his eyes move elsewhere on her body—her stomach. The bottom of it peaks out from under the end of her camisole, making it fit like a baby-tee.

Now, (☆)'s never had the flattest stomach or abs. He's okay with that, more than okay—he loves her soft tummy. But ... this isn't her usual stomach pudge.

It's got a roundness to it that, honestly, has got him second-guessing if she's still on birth control. Or if the shit is even working.

If he were dumb—or just didn't know his own girlfriend—he'd assume she's at least in her first trimester.

As he looks back up at her face, he finds her glaring back at him. His mouth opens—he doesn't even know what he wants to say. But, before the words spill out, she's walking out of the kitchen and back to their bedroom.

"C'mon, bro," he sighs out.

(☆) resurfaces minutes later, this time, dressed in one of his t-shirts. It completely sheathes her figure, causing him to frown.

"(☆)—"

"What?"

He buffers for a second, conflicted on what to acknowledge first: her odd ass behavior or that fucking attitude?

He decides to give her some leeway. "Yo, what's up with you?"

"Nothing." Her tone is flat and her words are quick.

"(☆), quit playing. I'm serious."

"I said 'nothing,' Connie, oh my God." Exhaling, she grabs her mug and takes a sip of her tea.

He eyes her for a moment. Clearly, she's in no mood for a mature or sensible conversation. And bringing up his concern for her stomach would be like shooting himself in the foot.

God, it's his day off! He doesn't want to argue with her. Today is supposed to be enjoyable and relaxing.

Whatever's going on with her, he just wants to fix it so he can get back to loving on her.

Desperate for a solution to this problem, Connie decides to be the bigger person and send out the first peace offering.

Shortly after breakfast, Connie had left the apartment.

Despite her aversion to holding a real conversation with him, a wave of frustration washes over (☆).

He just left without saying a word.

That really got to her, enough that the backs of her eyeballs began to prickle with the production of tears.

God, is she really about to cry over this?

They've had much worse fights. This isn't even a real fight? What the fuck is going on with her?

And why the fuck is she still bloated?

It's worse today, too! She wants to fucking scream. And Connie noticed, she knows he did. He was practically analyzing her body earlier.

Even worse, her boobs are even more sore than they were last night. And the ache in her stomach had grown into full on cramps, attacking her every five to 10 minutes or so.

God, she feels like shit.

With the presence of the cramps, she starting to fear the presence of her period. She isn't supposed to get it for another week. But she's wetter than usual, and it's got her fearful that at any moment it could be blood.

Her body is not on her side today, clearly, and it's fucking with her self-esteem. Who knows how long these symptoms are going to last?

Hopefully, they'll go away before her actual period starts.

But at this rate, it seems like she's going to be wearing baggy shirts for the next couple of days.

As he drives, Connie's mind doesn't stray from the thought of (☆).

Her stomach, her irritability—the raspberry tea. All those signs point to one thing: she's started her period.

Has it really been a month already? Shit ...

That doesn't explain the bloating, though. Or does it? He's never noticed it before, at least.

However, he shrugs it off. He's just glad he recognized the signs sooner than last time. That wasn't fun.

He glances over at the plastic bags resting in the passenger seat: her favorite food from the Jamaican restaurant they tend to order from, and a bag of groceries—full of her favorite snacks during her time of the month.

He hopes he didn't forget anything. Otherwise, that's his ass.

When he returns to the apartment, the kitchen and living room are empty.

Setting the bags down on the kitchen island, he calls out to her.

Still no answer.

So, he goes searching for her. And even though the apartment isn't small, there really aren't many places to hide. Connie knows his girlfriend well enough to know that she's in bed ... which is where he finds her.

"What you doing?"

She shrugs, sparing him no eye contact. Most of her attention is on the Tv.

"Aight, well ... I got you some food."

"I just ate."

"I know, but ... I know you still hungry."

And he's right. Her appetite on her period rivals his.

"C'mon." He's already heading back into the kitchen before she can onject, not that she would. Not when food is involved.

Sighing out, (☆) climbs out of bed to follow after him. As she saddles up to the island, Connie is pulling a foil container from one of the plastic bags on the countertop.

He pulls the plastic covering off before sliding the bowl over to her, the steam rising in her face.

Her resolve is cracking. (☆) peers up at him.

"I just ... thought you would'a ... wanted this."

She looks back down at the food, trying to keep her lower lip from trembling. She sniffs. "Thanks."

He nods, watching her open up the plastic utensils and stab a fork into the food. She takes a bite.

And another.

Then another.

Before he knows it, Connie has watched her devour half of the meal when she decides she's finished. She'll save the rest for later.

"You wanna watch something with me?"

She eyes him suspiciously. Why is he being so nice?

She had expected him to be upset with her. She knows she’s been a bit difficult. What she didn’t expect was for him to go out and by her food and still want to spend time with her when he got home.

God, she really was being unreasonable last night. She didn’t even mean to react that way. She doesn’t even like shower sex!

But … he just looked so good and she just wanted him so bad in that moment.

She has to apologize.

The couple move from the kitchen island to the living room couch. Connie sits back with his arms spread across the tops of the cushions.

Apprehensively, (☆) snuggles into his side, face pressed into his chest. His warm, musky scent only makes her relax further. He hadn’t put on any cologne today, and his natural scent is driving her crazy.

Connie takes the liberty of finding a show for them to watch: Snowfall. But, he honestly could’ve put on anything because she wasn’t paying attention at all. Only concerned with being in his arms, (☆)’s mood is better than it’s been all day.

One of his arm’s moves from the top of the couch to hang off of her shoulder. Smooth and delicately, his fingers rake up and down her upper arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

He does so a couple of times before that hand sinks to her waist and slides its way underneath the baggy shirt. It’s nothing for him to find her stomach, caressing her.

She doesn’t freeze or pull away. In fact, (☆) hugs him tighter and Connie is relieved that she’s enjoying this.

But she's enjoying it more than he intended. As he continues, (☆) only wishes for his hand to go lower. With every rub, his fingers tap at the hem of her pants.

She wants him to reach lower. Pushing her body up further against his, she hopes he gets the message.

Her mind is running, and there goes that ache in her lower stomach again. (☆) swears that the only thing that can get rid of it is him.

The thought of his dick pressing against her cervix has got her ridiculously wet. Emboldened, she throws a leg over his lap. Immediately, Connie catches it with his other hand.

He doesn't hesitate to rub her down, from her knee all the way up to her thigh and back. And every time he gets so close. What's stopping him from giving her just a small little squeeze?

Wordlessly, (☆) slips a hand beneath his shirt and heads straight for the hem of his sweats.

Connie tenses for a second, only relaxing when he realizes that she's only playing with his drawstring. His attention returns to the Tv for the next few minutes, until her fingers actually start to grip at his pants again.

This time he looks down at her. "(☆)—"

"Connie, c'mon." Sucking her teeth, (☆) sits up to really look at him. "Why don't you wanna do anything with me? You think I'm ugly or something?"

"What—(☆), no—"

"Then why not? What is it?"

Now it's his turn to sit up. "I never said I didn't want to. Shit, I did yesterday, but you got mad."

"Okay, but I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "It's cool, I'm not tripping off'a that."

"Then let's do it," she almost whines.

"I—(☆)..." He releases a sigh. "Ion know if period sex is something you really wanna do."

She blinks, completely knocked off by his words. "I'm sorry ... period sex?"

'Yeah ... ain't you on it?"

"What the fuck—no." Her face scrunches up. "Why would you think that?"

"Wha—Ion know! I just thought—"

"So, just 'cause I got mad, I'm suddenly on my period?" Her voice is steadily rising.

"No—"

"Is that why you got me food?" She looks at him through squinted eyes.

"(☆)—"

She rips away from him, standing on her feet. "Fuck you."

"Baby, wait—" He stands to block her from leaving. "It's not 'cause you was mad."

(☆) crosses her arms over her chest, careful not to press too hard on her chest. "So what was it?"

"You just—you a lil' moodier than normal—but, but, I can see you also a lil ... bloated—"

She makes an attempt to push past him, but Connie catches her before she can slip away.

"I'm not saying it's something wrong with it, I just thought something was going on 'cause your body was reacting." His voice is soft and slow as he tries his best to explain himself. "You even drank the tea! You only drink it when you're on your period."

(☆) exhales, gaze averted as she internalizes his words.

"Well ... I'm not on it."

"Okay, well ... my bad. Sorry for assuming."

She keeps quiet, her face softening.

"Forreal, (☆). I'm sorry."

"I know..."

"You'on forgive me?"

She didn't even notice when he'd gotten closer. But his hands are on her hips now. "Hm?" And his face finds its way in the crook of her neck.

"Connie—"

"You'on ... wanna ... accept my apology?" Every space in his sentence was filled with a kiss to her skin.

"Connie ... okay!" She bursts out into a laugh, feeling him nip at her skin.

He pulls away to stare down at her. "Forgive me?"

"Yes!" The big smile on her lips betrays the way she rolls her eyes.

Another bit of boisterous laughter pours our from her as he lifts her up onto his hips.

"Want me to make it up to you?"

She nods softly, leaning in to press her lips against his.

"Good."

“Oh shit … oh shi … o—shiiiiit!”

Acrylics dig into the plush comforter, strewn across the rocking bed.

The wide, tattooed hand splayed across the small of her back is warm, just like its twin that clutches her hip. Her body naturally leans into the touch, like it’s a salve to the repeated punch of dick to her cervix.

“Shit … bounce on it, baby.”

The clap of her ass against his pelvis has got her ears ringing. But it’s nothing compared to the loud sopping noise her pussy makes.

“Fu—uck Con’,” (☆) moans out, turning her head to the side against the mattress, just to watch him enjoy her pussy.

So wet, it’s too easy for him to pull out. It’s damn near no friction. Looking down at himself, surprise takes him as he sees her juices dripping from his dick—dripping like honey onto the sheets.

His dick bobs in the air and she whines, missing it already. Gripping one ass cheek to keep her spread open, Connie watches her clench around nothing.

“Shit so creamy ... you came yet?”

(☆) barely shakes her head.

Hand still on her ass, he jiggles it softly before giving the cheek a quick smack. Her whimper's got his dick jumping. He misses being inside her already.

Chuckling, he takes himself in his hand and pushes back in. As his dick bullies its way into her wetness, air expels from her tight pocket, making a wet noise of suction.

“Damn," he groans. "This pussy talking to me?" He resumes his steady strokes.

"Auugh ... aauh—yes, Daddy," she whines.

Clenching his jaw, Connie props a leg up. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pulls her back on his dick as he drives his hips forward. The force punches broken moans out of her, only encouraging him to go harder.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she chants.

Dropping her head low, (☆) pushes a shaky hand down under her body, reaching between her trembling legs to weakly cup herself. It's an unintentional action to soothe the overstimulation—feeling more sensitive than normal.

"This what you needed, right?" His heavy breaths are quiet compared to the echoes of skin-to-skin, the squelching sounds of her pussy, and her moans. "Hm?"

Mouth dropping open, (☆) fights to get a word out. Her eyes almost get lost at the back of her head. "Ye ... y-yes!"

Every time she bounces back, Connie finds her cream building up at the base of his dick.

"Ooouuh, baby!"

"What?" He licks his lips, brows furrowed deeply as he continues delivering backshots. "Tell me."

"S-so deep!"

"I'm deep?"

"Yes—fuck!"

Hands move from her shoulders; One around her throat and the other gripping the fat of her hip. Connie slows, only to ground his hips into her with far-reaching slow strokes, aiming to make her feel each and every movement.

"I'm in your stomach?"

She nods wordlessly. Any arch in her back is gone. She can barely hold herself up.

The fingers around her neck squeeze, and she squeezes around him.

"Shit, baby," he whispers, pushing past any weaknesses to continue driving into her. "Pussy too good."

Through the haze of their fucking, (☆) still notices the way he pulses inside of her and the telltale twitches he makes when he's close.

A shaky moan pushes out of her as her eyes squeeze shut. "Don't pull out!"

She squeaks as Connie pulls her up, her back to his chest, and grips her throat tighter.

"Want me to cum in it?"

"Yes, baby," she pants. "Cum in me!"

The thought has her pussy fluttering around him. It almost blindsides him. His lower stomach burns as he staves off yet another release.

"Yeah?" He speaks in her ear.

"Yeah," she whines, eyes falling closed as she allows him to hold up the abundance of her weight.

He pushes (☆) back into the bed, keeping her head into the sheets and her ass in the air. His hand remains around her neck.

"All you had to do was wait," he said through gritted teeth. "Would've given you all this shit and more."

His sentences are punctuated with the perfect slams into her uterus. It gives her a pain that kills any of those pesky cramps she had early. A pain that feels so good.

This is better than any heating pad. Shit, better than taking painkillers.

Her orgasm hits her like a truck. But it doesn't stop Connie from drilling into her, fucking as he sprays around his dick. The sensation feels like he's drowning in the best way possible.

Before he knows it, Connie is coming inside of her—deep. And (☆) swears to God she can feel him in her stomach. Her body is abuzz and she feels like she's floating.

Even though she's done, her body continues milking him, pulling a deep groan out of him. He lays one more smack on her ass before pulling out.

Immediately after, their cum—mixed together—oozes out of her. The sight is almost hypnotic. Before Connie allows himself to be swept up in it, he remembers something.

"You still on birth control, right?"

"Stopped ... a couple weeks ago."

Oh, shit.

[sooniebby]

Can I ask for a completely separate fic of Riki and M!reader not in the same universe but just like a non canonical thing of where M!reader begs Riki to try and impregnate him because his stomach is feeling all weird and achy. M!reader doesn’t know it’s his heat all he knows is that he wants his children.

Fic ends with the reader pregnant ofc, breeding mink, biting, dumbification, go crazy on it. If you don’t plan to make any side fic of Riki that aren’t canonical to the main 2 parts then u can ignore this <333

ఌ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

➤ Riki's story (but this isn't canon to the original plot)

Word count › 2.9k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › you and Riki are morons

Kinks › a/b/o, breeding, biting, lite somno

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

(Name) had been feeling weird. He woke up tired and his head was hurting. When he went downstairs, he saw his parents and instantly wanted to throw up.

“Mom…”

“What (Name)? I have somewhere to be.” His mother answered, not even sparing him a glance.

You’d think a mother would pay attention to her child. Especially a child that sounded so weak but she focused solely on her phone. (Name) sighed to himself before walking away to the kitchen. She didn’t even try to stop him.

(Name) ignored his father. His father was worse when it came to paying him any mind. He rummaged through the fridge for something but nothing was appealing. If he had to be honest, they all made him feel sick.

His stomach was hungry but not for whatever was in the fridge.

“Dad, I’m not feeling well.” (Name) said. “And everything in the fridge is making me feel sick.”

“And what can I do about that? You’re 18. An adult. Go buy some medicine and food that you want.” His father said, walking away.

(Name) didn’t even feel sad. He knew what type of answer he was going to get. The sound of the door slamming was music to (Name)’s ears. He loved whenever they left. But he didn’t feel happy right now.

His stomach was cramping. And he didn’t know what it was.

Maybe he should’ve paid more attention to anatomy lessons for omegas and alphas. Now that he was an omega and all.

The only thing on his mind, besides his killer headache, was to go see Riki. His inner omega was whining for it. But he wasn’t sure why. Maybe he just needed some comfort. Yeah, getting some cuddles sounded great right now.

With that, (Name) sluggishly got ready to go see his alpha. The bus ride felt odd. People kept staring at him. He wasn’t used to the stares. Being a beta since he was a child, most people ignored him.

He wondered if his scent was finally coming in. Did it smell bad? He didn’t think too much of it when he finally reached Riki’s house. It was smaller than his own but still cozy the last time he visited.

(Name) rang the doorbell, feeling himself sweat into his shirt. It was sticking to his skin now. But the sun was hardly out. It looked as if it would rain in an hour or so. (Name) wanted to take a cold shower.

The door opened showing a sleepy Riki. Wow, he was still asleep this late? It had to be almost 1 pm now. Riki seemed to wake up a bit when he realized it was (Name). He pulled him inside quickly and held him close, leaning down to scent him.

(Name) still didn’t feel much from scenting. But he allowed Riki to do so. He knew Riki’s alpha loved doing it. (Name) closed the door behind himself as Riki pulled him over to the living room.

They plopped down onto the couch as Riki moved (Name) around to sit on his lap. Riki’s voice was muffled as he muttered something before focusing on scenting his omega. (Name) simply nipped at Riki’s mating bond, not knowing how to fully scent someone yet.

“You feel warm.” Riki said.

“I think I have a fever…”

“Oh, did you take anything?”

(Name) shook his head. Riki huffed before standing up, ignoring (Name)’s shriek as he quickly wrapped his legs around his waist to not fall. Riki only had to use one hand to hold (Name) up as he brought him to his room, laying him down on the bed.

“Sleep. I’ll make some porridge.”

(Name) hummed as Riki left his room. Having been in his room before, (Name) didn’t care too much to look around. He mainly focused on stripping his clothes off and moving the sheets around to make a makeshift nest.

He wasn’t sure how he knew how to make one. It was probably just an omega instinct. With just his boxers on, (Name) finally felt cool. His stomach was still cramping—getting more painful by the minute.

Was it something he ate last night? (Name) sighed as he took off his glasses and placed them on the nightstand. He wanted to just sleep the pain away. Getting comfortable, (Name) hugged a pillow to his chest and drifted off to a dreamless slumber.

But it wasn’t fully dreamless. In passing, he dreamt of Riki’s neck. An odd dream. What was so sexy about a neck? A few other times, he dreamt of what Riki would look like shirtless.

A groan left (Name) as he tried to dream of something other than being horny. But it didn’t work. Anytime he dreamt of something more wholesome with Riki, it ended with Riki pulling off his clothes. (Name) was beginning to feel hot again.

His skin was burning that even the fan that was turned on didn’t do anything to calm him down. The sheets felt too warm but whenever he pushed them away, he felt panicked. Like he couldn’t part with it for some odd reason.

“(Name)…”

A cool hand brushed his forehead as he sighed in relief. Finally, he felt himself cool down. The hand moved to his neck, feeling around before pulling away. (Name) whined at the lost.

“Your fever as gotten worse. Let me call my mom.” Riki’s distant voice was heard.

That only made (Name)’s stomach clench tightly, causing him to scream out. Riki didn’t get far as he quickly grasped (Name)’s arm, trying to shake him awake.

But (Name) didn’t scream again. His face that was twisted into one of agony was calm. Riki sighed in relief and moved his hand away only for (Name) to cry again.

Riki decided to test something. He touched (Name), noticing how calm he was before pulling away. Like clockwork, (Name) began to whine at the lost.

This didn’t make much sense to Riki. What type of fever worked like this? None that he knew. Riki glanced at the porridge on his desk. He’d force (Name) to eat it later. Riki gently pushed (Name) further on the bed before joining him, keeping a hand on his skin.

The first hour or so was fine. Riki even fell back asleep. (Name) work up with a start, wondering where he was. He didn’t even remember waking up. He glanced around the room before noticing Riki snuggled close to him.

Oh. When did he get here? (Name) hummed as he rubbed his stomach. It was still cramping but it didn’t hurt as much. It felt more like a very light burn. But it didn’t feel like hunger.

He should’ve been hungry since he didn’t eat this morning. (Name) sat up, wanting to go get something to eat before feeling something wet. He didn’t even notice he was naked. Well he still had his boxers on but it was wet.

(Name) pulled off his boxers, tossing them across the room as he looked down at the bed sheets. It was also wet but how? He gently touched it. It was sticky. He frowned.

What did he pee glue? What the fuck was this?

“Riki.”

Riki didn’t wake up.

(Name) groaned. He felt sticky, hot, and uncomfortable. A bath would be nice but he didn’t feel comfortable just using Riki’s shower without asking. They may be mates but they haven’t known each past a month yet.

They hadn’t even had sex yet.

(Name) was ready to just shake Riki awake when he felt his spine tingle. He gasped, feeling something wet gush out of his asshole. Slick?! Why was he producing slick? (Name) reached down to confirm, feeling the slimy wet slick that he produced the day Riki had bit his scent gland.

Was he going into heat? No way. His doctor said he had two weeks before it started. So his body can ready itself for it. (Name) sighed to himself. He must’ve been horny due to those weird dreams he had.

Riki wouldn’t mind him masturbating, right…?

(Name) easily slipped in one finger inside of his asshole, groaning at the sudden gush of slick. Why was he feeling like this? He thought having something inside would feel better but that only caused his stomach to ache. As if it wasn’t what it wanted.

He glanced over at Riki, looking down at his boxers. (Name) felt his inner omega purr at the sight of Riki. He thought about waking him up. His body wasn’t liking his fingers. It wanted his alpha.

In his head, the thought of being knotted slipped in. (Name) felt his hole clench around his finger. He liked the thought of that. To be knotted by his mate.

(Name) moved to straddle Riki, sitting himself on top of his boner. Riki didn’t even flinch. He really was a deep sleeper. (Name) knew how to wake him up. He gripped Riki’s boxers and pulled them down, allowing his cock to pop out freely. It rested against Riki’s stomach, twitching slightly.

Riki had a large cock. No denying that. But it wasn’t too surprising. Most alphas had large cocks. Riki’s cock was thick as well. He wanted it inside, quickly.

Yeah, that’s what his stomach needed. He needed to be breed. (Name) felt himself shudder at the thought of being stuffed full with Riki’s come. The idea of having pups.

(Name) grasped Riki’s cock and positioned it at his awaiting hole. He slowly lowered down, gasping at the burn. His slick worked overtime to make it less painful.

“(Name).”

“Huh?!” (Name) shrieked, accidentally slamming himself down onto Riki’s cock. He cried at the feeling, his cock cumming. Riki simply hummed, reaching to grab (Name)’s hand.

“You couldn’t wake me up?”

“Sorry…”

“It’s fine. I’m your alpha right? So my cock is yours to use,” Riki grinned. He had actually been awake ever since (Name) flung his boxers off. The boxers had actually ended up on his face instead of where (Name) had imagined.

His moves were way too sluggish to actually fling something. Riki had woken up due to the slick directly in his nostrils. He pushed it away and was about to call out to (Name) until he noticed (Name) fingering himself.

He wanted to watch, so what? Only an idiot wouldn’t like to see someone they liked masturbate.

“I feel so weird.”

“Your fever?”

Watanabe Riki was a dumbass. As well as Tanaka (Name). Only total idiots couldn’t tell the signs of a heat. But only idiots would bond themselves to the other after knowing each other for a total of two weeks.

“Maybe you should eat.”

“No. I wanna have sex.” (Name) hummed.

“Alright. You’ll eat after.” Riki said, easily flipping (Name) over to lay on his back. (Name) watched in glee as Riki grasped his legs and pushed them forward, to (Name)’s ears. Riki’s thrusts at first were slow and calculated.

It made sense. To him, (Name) was sick. He didn’t want to go too harsh. He focused on mainly rubbing against (Name)’s prostate—enjoying the soft moans he got. The sound of slick was filling be room, making (Name) feel embarrassed.

He didn’t know why he was dripping so much slick. But it wasn’t enough. It felt nice but it wasn’t what his omega was craving.

“Riki, faster.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

(Name) whined, hoping his puppy eyes would persuade his mate. Riki only leaned down and nipped at his pouting lips.

“Cute.”

“Riki….! C’mon!!”

“Why do you want it so rough?” Riki asked, picking up his pace. It was still slow but at least it wasn’t too slow. (Name)’s inner omega purred in delight.

“My body wants it rough. An omega thing.”

“Really?”

No, it wasn’t. (Name) was just talking out of his ass. And Riki was a bit stupid to not notice. He was pretty horny himself and didn’t like his pace either. But (Name)’s comfort mattered more to him.

“I can handle it. I’ll tell you to stop.” (Name) wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close. Riki hummed. He still wasn’t too sure. But the tight wet heat of (Name)’s ass felt good.

He really wanted to cum. And no way could he cum from these piss poor thrusts. Riki leaned back, grasping (Name)’s legs tightly and began to pick up his pace.

His thrusts were harsh and fast, repeatedly aiming for (Name)’s prostate. (Name) cried out, clawing at Riki’s shoulders. He arched his back at the feeling.

“(Name), it’s my first time… is it yours?”

(Name) shook his head. “No…”

Riki’s thrusting stopped. “Huh?”

“Riki, why’d you stop?”

“Who was it?”

(Name) glared at him. “It was two years ago! C’mon, don’t stop.”

Riki growled. “Did you enjoy it?” He began ti thrust again, his grip on (Name)’s legs harsh. (Name) stared up at him in confusion. Why did he care so much?

He was mated to him. He belonged to him.

“No. We were both betas…”

Any sort of anger within Riki quickly disappeared. A smile appeared on his lips. “You should’ve said so. No beta can compare to an alpha.” His cock dragged against (Name)’s wet walls, aiming continuously at his prostate.

(Name) mewled. “Why’s, ngh, that?”

Riki smirked. He maneuvered (Name) to lay on his side and have one of his leg’s on his shoulder. This position gave total control to Riki as he seemed to reach even deeper inside of him. It felt as if he was even reaching his stomach, judging by the small bulge in his stomach.

“No beta can knot their omega. Give them pups.” Riki grabbed (Name)’s right arm and brought it to his lips, biting down at the skin. It hurt, his canines digging into his skin. But (Name)’s inner omega jumped for joy. An alpha biting your skin with their canines meant you were truly theirs.

And (Name) really did belong to Riki. Riki left multiple sharp bites on (Name)’s arm, a few stringing out small amount of blood.

“No beta can make an omega dumb off their cock.” Riki suddenly said, slamming his cock deep inside (Name). (Name) cried out, his cock once again cumming on his stomach. He didn’t think he could handle much more.

At least his cock couldn’t. But his hole, his inner omega?

Oh, it could go all night.

And Riki seemed to know that.

“Do you want my knot, Omega?”

“Won’t I… hngh! Won’t I get pregnant?”

“You shouldn’t. I’m not in my rut.” Riki gently bit the leg on his shoulder, glancing down at (Name)’s shaking form. (Name)’s eyes were dilated. He truly felt gone mentally at this point.

All he could think about was being knotted.

And if Riki was right, he wanted it badly. But a small side of him felt disappointed. He wanted to get pregnant. His rational side was screaming at him not to but his omega side purred at the idea of being filled with pups.

“Inside, Alpha. Please, knot me with your cum.”

Riki grunted, flipping (Name) over again to rest on his knees, face on the pillow. (Name) cried at this, not wanting to face the headboard. He wanted to look at his mate but when Riki slammed back inside, he clenched down tightly around his cock.

This position was the best out of the other two. Riki’s cock kissed his stomach (womb) with ease. His prostate was constantly brushed against—earning cries from him with ease.

Riki gripped his waist tightly, holding him close once his knot began to swell. (Name) mewled at the knot brushing against his prostate. Riki leaned down to rest on (Name)’s back as he bit his scent gland, using his canines. (Name) felt himself black out at the pleasure, a scream off his lips.

As (Name) felt himself get tired, Riki slammed in one last time, right against his prostate. His knot released, filling (Name)’s hole with his cum. It felt warm inside. But it wasn’t a small load. It seemed Riki’s load was pretty big.

(Name) felt overwhelmed. He didn’t think an alpha could cum so much. It also didn’t help that the knot was rested nicely against his prostate. Whenever the knot swelled to release another batch of cum, it stimulated his prostate.

He mewled each time, gripping the bed sheets underneath him. Riki sighed as he left small bite marks on his back. He was tired. He wanted to fall back asleep but knew if he did that, he’d crush (Name) beneath him.

Riki moved to lay on his side, holding (Name) close. His cock had finally stopped cumming but his knot was still swelled. It’d take a minute for it to go down. This was mainly for the cum to stay inside, making sure the omega’s womb took every last drop.

But (Name)’s womb wasn’t ready for pregnancy yet, anyway. At least the doctor said so.

(Name) hummed. The cramps he was feeling was long gone. Who knew sex could help so much. He glanced down at his stomach to see a small bulge there. It looked to be from the cum. He felt himself purr at the thought.

He didn’t know why he suddenly felt excited at the thought of being breed so full.

The two idiots fell asleep, holding the other close.

But six weeks later, when (Name) felt nauseous, Riki was swiftly slapped by his mother and was called an idiot. Yeah, (Name) was pregnant.

He guess he should start looking online for baby names. It felt as if it wasn’t about to be one pup.

(Name) just wasn’t sure how to tell his parents.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Riki’s a bad boy, not a smart boy :/

It was so fun writing fluff for Riki tho since the original story isn’t there yet

Thx for the request!!

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life69 @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @nakedtoasterr

(Ask to be added to the tag list/you’ll be tagged in every fic I post)

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine law thinking you're too cute

gif request by @stuckinthewrongworld

The footsteps of Law's boots echoed in the empty hallway, sword resting against his shoulder as he opened every door along the way. He peeked in and every time was disappointed and grew more agitated. Bepo and you were suppose to meet the rest him and the others twenty minutes ago. He had been patient at first but after waiting too long, he told everyone to remain up deck and he'd go find the two of you.

These two are always up to no good, he grumbled under his breath. He stopped in front of Bepo's quarters and pushed open the door, ready to yell at you two for being so late. His grim expression faltered as he stepped further into the room and saw Bepo sound asleep on his bed. He gripped the handle of his sword, eyes focused on the way you were laid over your crewmate. You looked like a little kid lounging over her overstuffed teddy bear. Law could feel his cheeks burn - eyes fully taking in the sight set before him. Bepo on his back, hands out to his side; you laid over his stomach, hands dangled off the bed and head slightly turned, resting on the navigator's side.

Law's irritation turned into softness and that really pissed him off. He stormed over to the bed and shook it with his foot, causing the mink to jump up. Your flew up in the air but landed next to Bepo, eyes heavy with sleep.

"You were supposed to be up on deck twenty minutes ago!"

Bepo began to apologize, jumping off the bed and rushing out - promising to never be late again, but leaving you to your captain's wrath.

"Coward," you yawned, getting up from the bed slowly. Law stood in front of you and you smiled up at him, he looked cute when he was mad. "Sorry, we were reading and ended up falling asleep."

Law's gaze narrowed as you smiled sweetly at him, hair ruffled and cheek a little bruised from how you slept. He could feel his face burning even redder and he snarled. "Stop being so cute!"

You laughed and drew closer to him, tugging at the hem of his shirt. "I can't help it, can you forgive me, Captain?"

The man melted against your teasing and he took a deep breath, lifting your chin with his thumb. His eyes softened and when you leaned in, he captured your lips with his. The kiss was short but sweet and it left you feeling wide awake. Law's eyes opened after yours and you enjoyed seeing him so vulnerable. Reaching down for his hand, you asked if he was still mad and he rolled his eyes.

"No, but come on, the others are waiting."

Nodding, you felt his fingers wrapping around yours and when he started toward the door - you were more than happy to follow.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 16.

Summary: In which we observe a few nights during the first week of the Summer at Saltburn while you set your plan into motion for putting on a show for Oliver. You don't tell Farleigh about the plan despite definitely using him in it, because you reason that he'd only object because he still loudly hates Oliver whenever he can. You... don't think too hard about all of the ethics of this. But there's also a lot you don't think about. Anyways, what Farleigh doesn't know won't hurt him.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; Farleigh/Reader(/Oliver kind of). Dom!Reader, praise kink, no AGAB specified for the reader, brief mention of oral (M receiving), implied voyeurism and also implied non-consensual voyeurism, degradation, choking, discussions about the reader's sex life and about whether or not their partners get them off.

A/N: 3193 words. not to be hit by the fic writer's curse but sorry this chapter is late i had a seizure for the first time in my life on a main road by the bus stop and was hospitalized for four days. this was going to be longer but i wrote and rewrote the "ending" and neither fit right so i said fuck it. very nsfw chapter and we get to love farleigh a bit more. LOVE YOU!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

So it was definitely working.

And after you'd explained it to Felix, he was more than on board.

Farleigh was of the opinion that Felix monopolized too much of your time whenever you were away from the Estate, so he would never complain about your sudden increased desire to be pressed against him as you lay about the property. Likewise, Venetia had absolutely no complaints about the contact. Venetia relishes the contact, and not that she'd ever say it, but she'd wrap herself around your shoulders like a mink coat for hours at a time if you'd let her.

You know Oliver's eyes are on you often in the early days, the first week at Saltburn. His gaze burns you in the days, and he finds you in the lilac study at night.

At first it's innocent enough; you'd left a copy of Saltburn: The Art of Saltburn House, The Catton Collection on his bedside, to help him familiarise himself with the history of the Estate and the antiquities therein. You sit at the desk, looking through your dossier, he curls up like a cat on one end of the off-white, leather sofa beneath the window. He looks beautiful in the moonlight.

"You're watching me," Oliver murmurs. He looks like a dream, shirtless, relaxed against the sofa, painted beautiful and blue by the clear night sky. You sigh softly, apologising faintly but insincerely as you reach past your dossier to the pack of cigarettes resting there. Its Oliver's turn to watch you once more, book closed in his lap where he waits for you to join him. You open the window, sitting on the back of the sofa, half on the windowsill.

Oliver leans forward, looking up at you with those beautiful blue eyes of his as he asks you about the dossier. You explain about the various events, big and small, that Saltburn plays host to over the Summer. You explain rather clinically about your interest in the guests, while keeping your mouth shut on any information about your own parents out of habit.

The next night, you forgo the desk entirely and simply sit on the sofa, window open, lamp on behind you. Oliver sits, and you stretch your legs out over him, invading his space without looking up, but blithely telling him that he's free to ask you to move. One of his hands holds your ankles, crossed in his lap, secure as he braces his book against your shins.

You've become acutely attuned to the way Oliver thinks he's skulking around Saltburn. As quiet as he tries to be, he'll never be able to out-fox you here. The Cattons and Farleigh? Most definitely, but you? Well, not since you spent a full year trying to convince Duncan to let you join the staff for events. Neither he nor Elspeth had agreed, but the skills you'd taught yourself made you a sometimes uncanny presence in the house even to this day.

But you appreciate that Oliver's aiming for subtlety, even if he doesn't meet his mark; it makes him easier to ignore on purpose.

There's the barest shift and creak outside of Farleigh's room the night he invites you back to drink wine and hang out. Considering the artistic inclinations of his own immediate family, Farleigh had often found a great deal of solace in you and the stories you could tell him if your grandmother, a great artist in her own right. Many nights were spent in Farleigh's room, drinking, listening to music, and painting across each other's skin before it devolved into a mess of another kind.

This third night, you hear the faint groan of the floorboards, the creak of the barest weight against the other side of the door. You tell Farleigh he's beautiful as you ride him, rocking back and forth in his lap, and you wonder if Oliver can tell the painting on your back is a dreamy field of wildflowers through the keyhole.

Gorgeous boy, so good - fuck Fars, you feel so good - you tell him as he grips you tight, paint smearing across your hips and thighs. You're the one covered in his art, but you call him breath-taking with absolute sincerity. Part of it is of course a show for Oliver, but you can't deny your genuine affection for Farleigh. His bitchy shell gave way to so few people that you considered the moments in which he'd relinquish control to you to be rather special.

Plucking control and responsibility from him while lavishing him with affection was something you delighted in. The shallow doting of fair-weather friends and short term partners was something Farleigh was used to, but you knew he was worth - and capable of - so much more than that.

While you were more than capable - and he was more than willing - for you to bark orders, push him around, make him kneel and obey your every whim, you knew all too well that you had all Summer to show off. Not that you wanted these games to drag on that long.

The bed rocks with your consistent rhythm, so you can hear the way weight shifts just outside the door, but doesn't move. A thought occurs to you, a new script, a new hook -

"Ollie thinks you treat me badly," you tease loud enough you know your voice will carry, but leaning in to press yourself to Farleigh, braced over him to keep him on his back despite the irritation in his eyes the minute they flick open. Still, you carry on before he can comment, despite how much you know he wants to, "he even asked how we got -" you moaned faintly for effect, settling yourself on him for the moment, hips pressed flush, his hands on your ass, "close," your smile widens, "considering, how awfully mean you can be to me." You pout, putting on the act thickly enough that it gets Farleigh to smile despite himself.

"You need to tell me this now?" Hands sliding up your body, Farleigh's hips begin to roll, taking over from you, fucking you softly as he takes your face in his hands. The touch is tender, more gentle than he'd ever allow if he knew he had an actual audience. Perhaps you should feel bad for using him like this, but you tell yourself that Farleigh will understand. If he ever finds out.

Still, the more you think about it, the more it... bothers you. Oliver's voice in your ear.

You need to be needed. Want to be wanted.

Farleigh stops. There's genuine concern in his face as he holds your face close. But it's his voice too, casually cruel to the entire roster of your past sexual exploits without giving you a moment to really think about it.

You rate sex by how good you can make your partner feel.

Maybe that's all you were to Farleigh, just like Venetia; a warm body you weren't related to. Be a partner in crime, someone he could bitch to about the finer irritations he suffered under the Cattons, someone he could fuck when he felt bored or unwanted. An affectionate little imp who'd accept his every apology, who'd still let him get away with feeling like he had the moral high ground. The dog forever at the foot of his metaphorical bed.

But was that not enough? How could you say he did not love you, not care about you, not look out for you? It's there in his eyes in this moment, these brief few seconds that to you have felt like a lifetime.

Pushing down the urge to ask the kinds of questions that would give real answers, but would complicate things tremendously, you let yourself lean into the messy, shameful lust that pits low in your belly, burning as you think of Oliver, though you've lost track of if he was still there, you have hope. It's his voice once more, from this morning this time, the praise he'd so casually offered. It that spurs you on.

"Tell me I'm good," shifting your focus back onto Farleigh, it comes out as almost an order. Your companion takes a moment to reassess the situation, smile lighting up his face when he's finally sure your behaviour isn't worrying.

"Of course you're good, you're you -" he laughs, but you sit back up, taller this time and out of his grip, hand braced on his chest as you level thin, cold smile at him, playing far more into the dominant role than you had been earlier.

"Exactly," and your hips begin to move again; you think you can actually feel Farleigh shiver with sudden anticipation, "tell me I'm good, Farleigh," you drag your nails down his chest, "make me believe it." The words escape him in a hiss as you clench down on him, tight and sensitive as your hips pick up the pace. Hearing the words begin to spill from him like a prayer unlocks something deep within you, a want you hadn't even realised you had. Recognition. Praise.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Farleigh," hand finding his throat, you press firmly to the sensitive pulse points in the way you know he likes, and he actually whimpers, tries to shake his head that he's not. Agonisingly slowly, you leaned in. You know he's close, he's begging and whining as much as he's affording you praise, so you dare not stop. It's a messy kiss that you plant on him, all teeth and shared, desperate breath, his lip between your teeth to the point he actually yelps and you let go.

"You ever call me a dog again," you whisper into his ear dangerous and seductive all at once as you have him where you want him, "you'd better make sure you call me a good one," and you bite gently at his ear as he swears, "now it's your turn to be good for me."

Reaching between you both, as you pull yourself off of Farleigh's desperate, all but twitching cock, your hand takes over for the half second it takes you to move down him, to let him finish in your mouth, all but singing your praises.

Farleigh's quiet and rather giggly in the afterglow, sharing a cigarette with you. The tension leaves you as his fond teasing returns. You don't hear any sign of Oliver beyond the door in these moments; you don't think you hear him leave, so he must be gone already. You wonder just how much he stuck around for; you wonder if he'll ever let on.

That night you stay with him, talking and joking about nothing and everything, and the fears you had about your place in his life matter less and less with each passing moment. Head on his shoulder, reading the last Harry Potter book with him in the early hours of the morning, you think any pet should feel lucky to be half as loved as you were by Farleigh and Venetia. Even if they had a strange way of showing it.

Ever true to form, there's absolutely no indication at breakfast that anything remotely note worthy happened the night before. These trysts had been occurring for so long at this point that as long as it was confined to the private quarters of one of the four - now five, you supposed - youth of Saltburn, everyone else pretended to feign ignorance. It was simply a truth of life at Saltburn; death, taxes, and you knowing Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh biblically since high school. So if there was to be a reaction, it would be from the exact person you were hoping would give one.

Oliver.

His gaze does linger on you over breakfast, but it's strangely unreadable. For a long while he watches your hands, but you don't call him out, or draw attention to the fact that you know; you let him stare. You let him watch as you have resolved to do.

Okay, there is one point where your hands drift into a lewd, sexual gesture while you're busy making plans with the others to head to the field for the day, and when you glance back at Oliver he's pink around the ears when he guiltily meets your gaze. The smile you flash him, so quickly that no-one else sees it, is wicked. Even if he seems to grow further embarrassed, you're pretty sure he's focusing straight down on his food to hide a smile.

"What kind of pervert do you take me for?" Felix mutters, despite the flush on his cheeks in the golden afternoon sunshine as Farleigh continues to tease him while you three and Venetia settled into the field, waiting for Oliver.

"Like you aren't even the slightest bit curious about the only other dick to get Y/N off besides you," Farleigh smirked, even as Venetia gasped with a kind of scandalised glee, and you practically screeched with fury, berating him with a flurry of smacks against his shoulder.

"Not true!" You clarified immediately, looking to Felix, who had slid his sunglasses down his nose to give you an incredulously amused look. You could feel yourself growing more flustered by the moment, but you're not exactly sure why. Surely - if it were true, which it decidedly is not - it would be just an awful reflection on your past partners, "and if it were, which it... mostly isn't," you stuck your nose in the air, giving Farleigh a final shove, "wouldn't you just be writing your own shit review with that lie?"

"How can it be mostly true?" Venetia's eyes are alight with intrigue as she fully rolls over to get closer to you and the boys, propping her chin on her hand as she dedicates her focus to you. Farleigh's actually kicking his feet and giggling, the bloody shit-stirrer.

"I told you that in fucking confidence," you snapped to Farleigh in what was more a stage whisper than anything else. Farleigh's giggling turns to cackling.

"So what I was told," Felix sits back with a smug little smile and a tone that you knew could only mean he was about to be a menace, "was that Ollie was so good that none of our friends," his grin grows wider in the face of your pouting, "Farleigh included, I'd assume, would believe you if you'd told them." Smug bastard; if he put half as much effort into studying as he did to remembering stupid shit you say about your hook ups, you wouldn't have had to go in and change nearly as many of his marks in the system.

"I get off!" You defended your past self, though it almost sounds embarrassed, but the ridiculousness of the situation sets the others off snickering, "people other than Fi, and, yeah, Ollie," you admitted awkwardly, "get me off- have gotten me off! Both of you cunts have gotten me off! You were there!" By now they're all practically cackling, and you let your embarrassment wane and let yourself get caught up in the laughter too.

As your coming down, it's a lot easier to admit without feeling self conscious.

"He got me off first is all," you lay back in the tall grass, lighting up a cigarette with an easy smile, "which, yeah, is admittedly a rare enough occurrence that it made whatever counts as mine and Farleigh's news cycle," you snorted.

"Seriously?" You hear Felix's incredulous voice and you sigh, admitting that while, yeah, that list consists of him and Oliver, it's also not that big of a deal, that you have your fun. But Felix isn't talking to you; "no, seriously," he's looking between Venetia and Farleigh like he's personally offended, "how long have you two been fucking my best mate and you haven't even had the decency to -"

"I keep track," Farleigh insists, which, yeah he actually did, "I repay back every one that I promise," his hand over his heart like this is anything close to serious. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you see Felix is still wearing a severely unimpressed look at them both, and despite the ludicrous situation, something about his indignation on your behalf melts something in your heart. It's almost like he can tell; without even looking at you he reaches out and rests a hand on your shin beside him.

"And a very worked up lesbian in Montreal told me I was a pillow princess," Venetia says in that same tone as Farleigh, as if her words were any kind of justification.

"I have follow up questions," Farleigh, however, immediately takes the bait, if only to steer the conversation away from Felix's frustration at them both, "how did you know she was a lesbian and why were you arguing?"

"The answer to both is that we weren't arguing," Venetia tells him smugly, voice laden thick with inuendo. Felix makes a face, but lets them go about their conversation without further interruption from him, despite his continued discomfort with the news he'd just learned about you.

Sitting up beside him, you mirror him, knees up to your chest, but you tuck your arm in his and bump your forehead against his cheek.

"Feels kinda gross to know about you," you hear Felix mumble, though almost immediately he clarifies, "you're not gross," he's speaking low enough that only you can hear, "everyone else is," he jerks his head towards Venetia and Farleigh before he leans back against you, "they're gross."

"Lucky I have you and Ollie then," you murmur with a chuckle, but are met with silence. Felix lets out a long sigh, and you know him well enough to know what's on his mind, "you so are curious about Ollie," you poked him in the ribs with a sly grin. Felix snorted, pressing a kiss to your forehead instead of answering. You know all too well that he's blushing by now, attempting to hide most of it from his perverse family members by keeping close to you.

Venetia and Farleigh for their part have shifted over, given you both more space as the gossiping had come to an end. As it always seemed to be, the last two to remain unreasonably close were you and Felix.

"What made him different from everyone else wasn't his dick, for the record," you murmured as you were going through the picnic basket, searching for something cold in the afternoon heat. Felix the only one close enough to have heard your quiet aside, looks at you with intrigue; how does he not get it? You give him a strange little smile, "it's... that he was Oliver." Felix frowns a little, as if trying to decipher what you're trying to tell him. Instead you shrug and unwrap and ice lolly, gaze focusing on where you can finally see Oliver on the horizon; you wave, but keep your voice low as you add to Felix.

"There's no dick that's going to cure world hunger by itself, you know?"

And no, at the time Felix doesn't exactly understand what you mean by that. Yet.

[merakiui]

You unlocked a new mink for me about stepson!Floyd. Anymore headcannons?

I have a few thoughts to share!!

(cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, unhealthy relationship/behaviors, obsession, stepcest (stepson!floyd x stepmother!reader), reader is female and a milf, age gap (but floyd is an adult in his late twenties/early thirties; i couldn't decide.), one-sided attraction (floyd loves you in a very not familial way, but you don't reciprocate in this regard)

✧ growing up, floyd probably hated you with a fiery passion. perhaps he's stubborn and refuses to see you as his new mother because he clings to the memories of his birth mother. no one can replace his real mama. you're just a fake! >:( what does his pops even see in you? as he matures, he grows out of his dislike for you and eventually comes to appreciate your presence in his life. both you and his birth mother are two separate people and he knows that even though you're not his birth mother (and will never be his birth mother) you're still technically his (step)mother. stepmother status doesn't mean much to him; regardless of that, you're still very mama to him. he's always been a mama's boy, so he grows attached. it's a very different attachment with you.

✧ the line between platonic and romantic is very thin for floyd because he's never truly understood the boundary between both. he loves you. isn't that enough? his admiration for you is just puppy love; it probably starts when you'd patch him up after every scuffle he got into or when you'd pick him up after he got in trouble with the other schoolchildren or teachers, chiding him lightly. you'd hold his hands in yours and lecture him softly: "floyd, you know these hands of yours aren't supposed to hurt others. why hit when you can hug instead?" he thinks that's so LAME. >:/ but because you said so, he'll try to be nice just so you won't be upset with him. he'll do anything to make his mama happy.

✧ he fought with jade a lot for your attention. whenever the two of them got into a spat, he'd show up at your bedroom door and sleep between you and his pops. he hates fighting with jade, of course, but then he hates it more when jade's being greedy with your time and affection.

✧ floyd probably surpassed the line of platonic when he was going through puberty and started noticing things about you that he hadn't before. with the physical changes that accompany puberty, the emotional ones come, too. it's a turbulent time for floyd because he has no idea how to navigate any of these weird feelings. while the boys in his class are talking about their crushes, floyd's thinking of you and only you. part of him realizes it's wrong, but he never addresses it. it's just hormones. it'll pass. (it doesn't.)

✧ now that he's much older, set to inherit the family business any day now, all of these memories are looked back on with immense, obsessive fondness. his affection for you doesn't waver with age; if anything it's gotten stronger because now he's old enough to understand what everything means. and he now knows the line between platonic and romantic. he'll probably never think of you platonically ever again. he's too deep into his obsession to view you as you are without the lustful attraction.

✧ you're so soft. so sweet. he's so in love with you and your body and your smell because you always smell like home; and you always cook him delicious meals when he comes to visit. as much as floyd likes the independence and freedom of living on his own in the city, he misses being under the same roof as you. so he visits when he can. when his pops isn't running him ragged with work (floyd thinks he ought to retire sooner; he can handle things on his own) and he's not pursuing fleeting hobbies, he's visiting his parents' place.

✧ most of these visits start and end the same. floyd comes to pester you about marriage. he told you he'd marry you when he was older and you'd laughed it off and told him, "when you're older, you'll find a lovely person to marry. i'm sure of it." but the problem is: you are that lovely person. he doesn't want anyone else. he wants you, and it eats him alive that his pops has you and he doesn't. floyd knows his old man's schedule by heart, so he only ever visits on the days he's out doing business. his pops would have his head if he knew what floyd got up to with you on the weekdays.

✧ you try to reason with him: "floyd, sweetheart, you know we can't do that. i'm your mother." but floyd doesn't give a shit about that. who cares if you're his mama! he loves you and that's enough. you've gotten softer with age. he notices it every year: your wide hips, the wrinkles lining your face, your pudgy tummy that he loves to squeeze when he rucks your shirt up, your fat tits, the thickness of your thighs, the way you're so easy to manhandle...... he bends you over the table, the couch, the counter; wheedles you into the bedroom and fucks you on the bed you sleep in with his pops. and you put up with it because you don't want to hurt him; he's still your precious boy. :( you don't want to break his heart.

✧ it's so not fair. floyd doesn't care what society thinks is right or wrong. the family business is just barely legal. do you really think he'll stop loving you just because the world tells him it's wrong and gross and weird? he's always been painfully honest. he'll spite all of the people who try to tell him it's wrong, especially his pops, by tugging you into a sloppy kiss in front of everyone. that way they'll know you're his and he's yours.

✧ you worry for floyd. he really should meet other people his age, but he's so set on you. you'd feel flattered if he wasn't your stepson, the boy you raised and watched grow into the man he is now. you know he won't listen to you every time you try to combat his delusions with logic. and it's so difficult to get a word in when he's rutting into you from behind, rubbing your flank adoringly and groaning in your ear about how "fuckin' hot you are, mama."

✧ floyd's never been a patient creature, but he is persistent. and you're worn down every time he visits. you're his stepmother; you want him to be happy. but there's some happiness you just can't provide for him. floyd isn't deterred. he'll have his mama one way or another. he loves you too much to give you up.

[boundinparchment]

Blasphemous Rumors - V

“Marry me.” He said it with such blasé that you weren’t sure you heard him correctly.  Silence surrounded the two of you and he leaned down and tilted his head, watching you like a specimen under a microscope. “Just for a year.  A marriage of convenience.  Consider it nothing more than a harmless experiment for the sake of curiosity.” Il Dottore/Female reader with established personality.  Slow-ish burn.  Semi-enemies to lovers. On AO3 here. Likes, reblog, and comments appreciated.

You peered out between the crack in the doors at the back of the cathedral.  Every pew was full.  Breakfast, what little you had of it, churned in your stomach.  Your hairpins were too tight and you fought the urge to fix them. 

The front steps were packed to the brim with common folk shivering in their coats and furs, eager to get a glimpse of you despite the bitter cold.  Why would the inside of the church have been any different?

Everyone seemed accounted for.  You had gone through the guest list extensively; it was far too long for your liking.

And it was far too late to back out now.

The high collar and long lace sleeves of your dress were soft, rather than irritating; you were right to have chosen the shop you worked with.  Your final fitting had induced tears, both of lamentation and awe; you only wished you shared such a moment with anyone other than the Tsaritsa.  Who were you to deny an Archon, after all?

She gifted you the veil that now covered your hair and face, as light as freshly fallen snow.  

Part of you wished, hoped, that perhaps you might catch a familiar shape in the crowd.  But as far as you could see, neither of your parents were present.  As expected.  Your father wouldn’t have been in good shape to attend, at any rate.

All that waited for you was a Harbinger, dressed in white, and the Tsaritsa beyond.

You rehearsed this for the past few days with the Omega Segment acting in its master’s place.  The very act did nothing but weigh on your nerves like your boss weighed his mora.  It was infuriating, actually, that Lord Dottore did not deign to show up to his own rehearsal ceremony.  He had that luxury.  You were required to appear.  After all, you had no copies of yourself to delegate tasks to and you were the only one in the ceremony who would do more than just stand and speak.

Typical Harbinger.  Others suffered while they reaped the benefits of their positions.

Running would get you nowhere except a shallow grave.

You agreed to this.  You gave your word.  And such a position would give you plenty of information to pass on.

The music started, the doors opened, and on beat, you began the long trip down the aisle. 

Your grip on your flowers tightened as you went.  The bouquet in your hands was a monstrous thing, flowers practically spilling out of it in an array of irises, cecilias, glaze lilies, and an overabundance of greenery.  The florist had gotten far too overzealous and you wish you hadn’t been so tired during those meetings.  Around you, the church was sparsely decorated except for the long carpet you walked on.  All eyes were, inevitably, be drawn to you.

 Brides were supposed to smile, you reminded yourself.  You hoped your smile only felt tighter than it looked.

Lord Dottore was dressed in mostly white and, naturally, not without that feathery mechanical thing draped over his shoulder like a mink pelt.  His mask was black with blue accents, different than usual mask he shared with Omega.  The tails of his coat were accented with bright blue, matching his waistcoat, and it even looked as though he repurposed the usual dangling tubes into accessories for his suit jacket.  Across his chest, a red sash, not unlike the Tsaritsa’s, denoting his station and affiliation.  A bright and luminous aquamarine gem was nestled into a pin at the base of his throat, floating above a white cravat. 

Despite the upper half of his face being covered, he did a decent job of appearing enamored: a tilt of the head; a charismatic smirk that passed for charming; a shifting of his weight as he fixed his cuffs.  If you didn’t know any better, you might have believed it yourself.

As you approached, you realized his shirt wasn’t black but a deep blue, almost as deep as the midnight sky back home.

You caught the quickest glance at his sharpened teeth when he attempted to match your smile.  It came off more like a snarl as you passed your flowers to an attendant and took Dottore’s awaiting hands.

You shared his sentiments.  Your feet were already aching and the event had barely begun.

The Tsaritsa spoke of a blur of sentiments that, perhaps in any other situation, would have brought you to tears.  Selflessness (impossible for the man before you), a reciprocity of compromise and challenge (only out of necessity to keep your job), sharing in the accomplishments of another (again, impossible for your future husband) were things that, surely, the crowd collected here knew to be absolute bullshit.  Il Dottore, Second of the Fatui Harbingers, was infamous for his ruthlessness, his lack of humanity, unwavering resolution for knowledge at any cost.

Hell, you even severely compromised on traditions that might have added authenticity.  Normal couples celebrated in Snezhnaya for at least two days; a marriage for a high-ranking military official would have warranted far more.  Back home, it was still common to practice the tradition of ransom for the bride but that required your parents and you caught a muttered remark about the cost of your ring.  Betrothal and Crowning were replaced with a simpler ceremony that would not insult the Tsaritsa while remaining true to Dottore's sentiments towards godhood (absolute bullshit, in his opinion). 

He cared little for ritual.  Ritual was nothing more than unsubstantiated nonsense to explain a world instead of looking closely for answers.  So long as everything was legal, it didn't matter to him otherwise.

In exchange, both of you would instead endure a tour of the main city for photographs before the reception.  Pantalone's idea.  Of course.

Would anyone really believe the two of you were serious about this…

The Tsaritsa did though. 

Didn't she?

You tried not to marvel at Lord Dottore's long fingers when he removed his gloves to exchange vows and rings.

His recitation was, of course, perfect.  If he wasn't a scientist, you were certain he might have been a stage actor in another life.  Dottore's touch lingered as he carefully arranged both of your rings and slid them home, ensuring they nested into one another perfectly. 

Compared to your pair of rings, his appeared plain when you slid it on after affirming your vows in return.  Then again, this union meant nothing and his adornments were always more about his rank and their functionality.  An unassuming band of platinum suited him just fine.

Touching him was less a sparking jolt at the sensation of skin on skin and more akin to a burn, as if thawing one's hands in front of a roaring fire after a day in the tundra.

The Tsaritsa spoke again, giving closing remarks.  You wanted to pull away already but there was little choice in the matter.  Dottore's fingertips were curled into yours, the smallest amount of contact you could get away with already, and it wouldn't take much for him to decide that you weren't playing along.

"…your union will be sealed with a kiss."

Lord Dottore's shoulders squared instantly and you felt the tension run into his fingers, now feeling more like curled claws.  Fuck.  Of all things you had discussed…practiced, even (you stepped on his feet more times than you cared to consider and yet still had your feet).  Had both of you truly forgotten…

The longer neither of you moved, the worse this was going to be.  You felt expectant gazes and heard a soft wave of whispers.  Convincing.  This needed to appear true—

You let go of Dottore's hands and you were thankful that he took the cue to lift the edge of your veil.  Disappointment sunk in your stomach as he kept his head as level as possible, preventing you from sneaking a look up his mask.  You stepped forward to close the distance, cupping his cheek with your left hand before you tilted your head to the side and pressed your lips to his.  Fluid, smooth, natural.

That was your role, you reminded yourself.  It would take both of you to make this work.

His lips were soft, as warm as his hands (warmer, perhaps, you considered).  As human as any other person you kissed before.  You pulled away, catching a glimpse of his ears turning pink, before he ducked down and captured your lips again, finally back on track. 

He turned his head to break the kiss but didn't pull away immediately.

"Quite efficient, Accountant," Lord Dottore whispered.

His words tickled your neck and threatened to send a shiver down your spine.

The closest you would never get to gratitude.

Touring the city was excruciating.  In-between trying to put names to faces and track who was speaking to whom, you waved and smiled from the carriage window, thankful the gray clouds were holding off their inevitable snowfall.  Every stop meant a photo, meant standing too close to your husband, all the while hoping you came off as shy and dutiful rather than stiff and uncomfortable. 

The schedule left little time for breaks.  You managed to nurse a glass of water, fix your makeup, and gather your remaining strength as an attendant bustled your dress before you entered the Palace Ballroom, arm in arm with the Harbinger.

If your husband was a different person, you would have pushed back on his insistence to get the first dance out of the way as soon as you were in the room.  But you agreed with him and it was better to get it over with.

As rehearsed, you took your position, thankful all the while he had slid his gloves back on as soon as you were in the carriage hours ago.  Bad enough you had to be essentially pressed up against him for this.  You would rather eat glass than touch him again, especially if he was going to feel warmer than he truly was.

He smelled more pleasant than you usually experienced.  The lack of viscera and disinfectant helped.  This close, closer than you had been all day as he led exactly on beat, you caught hints of musk, along with sandalwood, mint. 

Dottore pulled you flush against him after spinning you out, angling his head towards the crook of your neck.

"Relax your shoulders," he muttered.  "You're resisting the rhythm and making this harder than necessary.  All that convincing work earlier can be undone quite easily, Accountant."

"Is that a threat, my lord?" you teased, passing off a playful smile.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth but it didn't stay long.  He was quiet in the carriage, professional.  Other than his vows, he barely said a word to you all day.

"For once, not from me."

You schooled your face, instead resting your chin on his shoulder as the mantle's feathers brushed against your cheek.  It was much softer than you expected.

What had you missed?  Other than perhaps appearing, as any person might, a little weary during the tour, you had been nothing but polite and warm during any interactions with guests. 

"Even one as erudite as myself knows to move with the music and the flow of the event.  Stop thinking, Accountant."

You tried to ignore the slight squeeze of his arm around you; it was a little too tight to be assuring.  Focusing on the music, a song you could hum in your sleep by now, you tried to relax your shoulders and hips and follow through with the sway of each step.  The song ended; its final note was cut short by the sharp sound of knives on glass.  You fought a grimace, realizing your guests were goading you to kiss again.

This time, the Harbinger was quicker, stealing your lips as soon as you lifted your head from his shoulder.

"Better," Dottore whispered as he pulled away.  "By the end of this, you might even fool yourself."

You threw him the same smile and demure look as you did in the jewelry store and fixed his cravat to stifle the urge to punch him.

"Are you sure I won't fool you, Lord Harbinger?"

"I'd like to see you try."

The socializing took the longest.  The Harbingers themselves, although never without a quip to throw, were civil enough.  You led most of the conversations once the two of you reached the tables of dignitaries and nobles, Dottore falling back to either have more in-depth discussions or to observe, as he often did.  Eventually, it was just you when he muttered something about getting air and you were determined to get greetings and gratitude off your plate before dinner.

Your head swam as you recalled every single face, every name, every seating arrangement.  It wasn't that different from data, from account numbers, balances.  No one would call you an extrovert by any means but the only thing keeping you going was the very knowledge that Dottore was not going to do it.  Such things were not worth his time.  Without his Segments in normal situations, he was protective of his time; now, it was your turn to fill in the gaps.

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes at yourself.  Your duty was to the people of Snezhnaya and beyond.  Your duty was your family.  This marriage was a means to an end.  You only played your part because if you didn't, the consequences were far, far worse than you wanted to consider. 

You were partway through the final table when you felt a hand on your elbow and you saw everyone at the table straighten considerably, as if they were puppets ready to perform.  Instead of any kind of introduction or pleasantry, however, Dottore turned his attention to you, his hold gentle.

"Dorogáya moya, come eat before your plate gets cold."

You felt your face flush at the use of the term, both at the familiarity and the double meaning.  Over the last few weeks, you learned that he was not a native to Sneznhaya, as you were, but he spoke the language so fluently one would never know.

With a smile, you let yourself be taken to the head table, where the first course of many sat waiting for you.  Your stomach grumbled at the sight of food.  You'd been hungry since before the ceremony.  Now that you looked, you noticed that the wait staff were well into bringing out dishes, carrying trays over their shoulder.

Funny that he would come find you when he left you alone to tackle the ridiculous social obligations of his station.  Then again, Lord Dottore couldn't exactly have you fainting at your own wedding. 

"So, I'm expensive, am I?" you asked, glancing through your peripheral at him as you took a long sip of water.

You half-entertained wine earlier but you needed your faculties and wits about you.  Water was best.

"If time was a currency, yes," Dottore turned his head to you, fork and knife still poised on the plate.  "Surely you can quantify how much of my time could be better spent on almost anything else."

"And surely you know how easily anyone could read into a Harbinger calling his new wife expensive as establishing an amazing matrimonial foundation."

Dottore tilted his head and raised a shoulder, a gesture you always took to mean silent acquiescence.  If you could see his eyes, you imagined his eyebrows would be rather expressive as well.

“I never cared for the opinions of others, especially those who never had to try to improve their life, such as most of our guests who were born into their position.  There is little reason for you to be anything beyond polite.  It is those closest who must be fooled, not the rest of the country.”

“All it would take—” you hissed.

“You’re forgetting who you married, Accountant.” Dottore gave you what anyone else would have called a charming smile. “Unlike you, they fear me.  Now eat.”

He needed you to cooperate but if he thought he was going to spend the next year commanding you around...arrogant, self-important, manipulative ass…

You kept your face neutral as you lifted a utensil, pushing away the thought of driving your fork into his leg.  It was the least he deserved. 

Flavor exploded in your mouth as you took a bite to eat.  Any other time, you might have reacted beyond simply reaching for another forkful from your plate.  The finest thing you tasted in months, years, and just like everything else, it was wasted on this moment.  A moment you would never get back. 

Funny how right he was.

Food helped.  Each of you played the part of doting newlywed, dancing, smiling, laughing.  You only ever heard Lord Dottore chuckle but never outright laugh.  It was almost sweet, how genuine the sound was.  Did he even realize it, you wondered, when the mask slipped and for a moment he appeared almost human?

Of course he did.  Nothing would ever get passed him.

Except you.

If you made it out of this alive.

It was no secret that a Harbinger's station meant a certain quality of life.  Estates of their own, entire wings within the Palace for work and for leisure.  After all, the Cryo Archon only had her Harbingers to dote on, who else would make use of the space, you often wondered.  Staff were well-compensated and taken care of but the stark contrast between your dormitory and living spaces compared to the soaring ceilings and marble pillars and gilded frames turned what little food you managed to keep down.

You weren't in charge of auditing the annual operating budget (that was exclusively for the Ninth himself) but you could estimate.  More than what you would make in your lifetime thirty times over, probably.

The walk from the ballroom to the far reaches of the Palace was shared in silence.  Exhaustion was woven into the very layers of your gown and by now face-planting into the bed, makeup and all, sounded like a wonderful idea.  After all, it was not as if anything about this arrangement was normal and Lord Dottore himself expected nothing, he had been quite clear about that from the beginning.

He was impossible to read right now, even for you.  Mouth in a flat line, shoulders back, arms behind him as he walked as if he were simply out for a stroll.  Without the context of a common discussion topic, mostly regarding his funding, you couldn't tell if he was simply bored, exhausted, or annoyed.  All three in a stormy cocktail seemed likely. 

The rooms themselves were as lavish as the rest of the Palace.  Opulent furniture that was dusted but never used filled the sitting room that you walked into, the walls lined with filled bookshelves.  Floor to ceiling windows revealed the usual white landscape and the mountains beyond while projecting your reflection back at you from the illumination of a nearby lamp.  Your bag, the singular container of all of your packed belongings sat on a sofa, as if discarded hastily.

Through a set of double-doors was a second private sitting room and the bedroom, as large as half of your entire dormitory floor.  Dark wood, flowing lines, clearly hand-crafted rather than assembled on a factory line.  Too many pillows on the bed. 

Did he even sleep?

The only details the space was even occupied were the books piled haphazardly on a coffee table, on a bureau, scraps of paper and blueprints scattered but clearly organized in a way that made sense to someone.  A coat strewn across a couch arm.  Mechanical parts and a small set of tools on a table where one might ordinarily hold a private dinner party.

You caught sight of a large closet and beyond it, a washroom, each room with their own set of double-doors to close the space off.  For a man as arrogant as Il Dottore, perhaps even vain (after all, who made clones of themselves if they weren't?), you expected far more clothes and shoes.  His budgets rarely, if ever, accounted for clothing unless it was for a specific occasion but that didn't mean much.  And you doubted he would have made room for your pitiful amount of belongings.

On one side of the closet was a large three-way mirror, the kind you dealt with at the seamstress, complete with a platform.  Obnoxious.  This felt out of place compared to the amount of space in the closet itself.  Unless, of course, he did his own tailoring or a Segment did.  Would explain the lack of receipts and mentions of it for his budget reviews.

You locked eyes with your own reflection and saw where your make-up was thinning, how your hair had finally succumbed to the weight of the product in it.  No matter how hard you tried to keep your eyes open, they seemed to have minds of their own; you were beyond tired at this point.

And the dress was finally taking its toll.  The lace was scratchy and the corset was digging into you.  Without thinking, you finagled your feet and removed your heels without bending over.  You closed your eyes, instantly relieved at the sensation of your heels sinking into the carpet.  The pain was still there but it nice to be on even ground again.

Your eyes snapped open when you felt slight tugging on the buttons of your dress and it took everything in you now to jump, nerves frayed and split.  Dottore looked up from behind you, mask still in place, and you could only presume he was making eye contact.  Harder to determine without facing him.

"Don't tell me you expected to reach every single button yourself, Accountant," he sneered.

"More like I didn't think you would help.  Not without prodding."

Dottore scoffed as he undid the buttons running the length of the dress and loosened the back stays of your corset.  He tugged slightly at your dress' sleeve but not enough to reveal your shoulders.  Never once did you feel the brush of his gloved hands on your skin. 

Dottore stepped back when he finished, your gaze remaining fixed on his mask.

"Polite for a man who stepped foot into my office covered in blood on more than one occasion," you remarked.

You were graced with the wide, vicious smile you knew so well, sharpened teeth gleaming.

"Go wash up, you smell like you wandered through a florist's nightmare."

He nodded his head in the direction of the bath but made no attempt to leave the dressing room.  You held back a grimace as a sound of disgust escaped your lips.

"You have such a charming demeanor, Lord Harbinger."

You gathered up your dress and entered the bathroom before he could remark further, shutting the doors behind you with the resounding clicks of the latch and lock.

The bathroom was tiled and just as ornate as the rest of the rooms: a large vanity with more counterspace than you ever saw in the dorms; a water closet for the toilet; a standalone shower; a tub that stood on its own feet and looked as if it was intended for at least two people, maybe more.  You were beginning to think there was no in-between in the Palace; either everything was utilitarian and functional or overly-decorative and wasteful of resources. 

Here too, you could only see a smattering of personal effects.  Signs the room was occupied but not necessarily used.  Curiously, you picked up a bottle and read the label once, twice, and then again, realizing it was actually some kind of acid and not a mouth rinse solution.  Whoever brought your things over from your dorm had at least been insightful enough to unpack your toiletries and you were thankful you would not risk burning off your scalp to wash your hair.

Just as you were rummaging around for your things, you noticed a bundle wrapped in soft tissue on a chair near the door.  Weird.  Was this for you?

You removed the rest of your jewelry and tugged gently on the lace sleeves, the upper body of the dress coming free without further resistance.  You stepped out of the dress, arranging the pile of tulle and lace neatly nearby before turning your attention back to the small package.

Gently, you pulled apart the paper.  From the pile of cloth, you plucked the top piece and held it up, frowning.  It left little to the imagination.  Same for the other half.  On the bottom was, you presumed, what was meant to be worn over the lingerie, made of the same fabric with a small bow on the back and ruffles on the hems.

To the credit of whoever put it there, it was very fine material.  The kind that was befitting of your newly acquired station.  Lace this soft and sheer was painstaking to make and couldn't be machine-replicated. 

There was no note in the packaging.

Lord Dottore held no expectations, you reminded yourself.  Had a servant put this here?  If so, on whose behalf?

You put the lace back down and ran the shower, adjusting the water as you ran through scenarios in your mind.

Was Dottore testing you?  Could he have only said such a thing to get you to agree?  If he'd changed his mind, it would have been more prudent to tell you.  On the other hand, telling you would allow you to prepare and he wasn't in the habit of allowing anyone, subject or not, to have time to skew results.  Plausible enough.

Or perhaps Pantalone, in his ever-insistent and nosy nature, had this planted here?  Considering the state of your ring situation, this was also viable.  He wasn't above planting evidence, arranging scenarios so they worked in his favor without fail.  From Lord Pantalone's perspective, Dottore acquiring a wife so soon after their deal was struck would have been immediately suspicious and potentially short-sighted, subject to various tests of his own...

Maybe it was neither and a servant or even a Segment thought the notion would be funny.

But it was too expensive for that.  No one paid that much mora on something without a purpose…or at least, most people didn't.  Your boss was, as always, the worst exception.

You stepped into the shower, ridding yourself of your makeup and perfume and the rest of the day's trappings.

As you stepped out of the shower, feeling at least a little more human, your stomach sank.

In your frustration with Dottore, you never grabbed a change of clothes. 

Because your bag was in the sitting room.

Your heart squeezed as you lamented your poor planning.  Really?  At this rate, you would be found out.  How the hell could you possibly think this was going to work when you didn't even grab your things and put them in the closet?

Why hadn't the one responsible for the task done that?  That just made sense!

You could walk out in a towel, go grab your things, and make it even more obvious that you were only doing this because, perhaps, you might get better intel. 

And while Lord Dottore wouldn't care about any of that, was it really necessary to make a show of how much you didn't want to show skin around him?  No. 

He thought well enough of your professionalism.  And part of that would be embracing the role you were supposed to play.  If a servant were to see you not in lingerie as befitting a wedding night, but in drab pajamas…whispers usually spread like wildfire on a good day.

You dried your hair as best you could, freshened up, nestled the lace against your skin.  While you weren't used to the cut of certain things, it wasn't uncomfortable per se.  Altogether, it was quite lovely. 

Another thing wasted on the wretch in the other room.

When you stepped back into the bedroom, you found Lord Dottore laying on the bed, covers pulled back as he scribbled into a book.  Even now, his mask was still present.  His hand stilled and he turned his head to you briefly to acknowledge your presence before he went back to what he was doing.

Steeling yourself, you crossed the room, crawled onto the bed, and straddled him.  He hadn't changed at all, only bothering to remove his jacket, cravat, and waistcoat.  Deftly, you grabbed the book from his hands and tossed it to the floor to force him to look at you.  He was solid and warm beneath you, the same as any other, and you tried not to think of how little separated the two of you, how bare you were under the lace.

Dottore tilted his head, lips pulling into a smirk for a moment before it spreads into a full-toothed grin, his hand reaching for and gripping your thigh.

A leg wrapped around yours and you met the bed quicker than you expected to, soft sheets and a firm mattress under you.  You blinked, Dottore's grinning face above you, never far from reach.  You felt a hand ghost over your side, your breast, your collarbone, before it settled on your neck, caressing your pulse point.  Despite your proximity, you never felt him press against you, not even when he brushed his lips over your cheek, where the faintest scar remained.

"I hardly you know, my dear.  Besides, I already told you that I have no expectations beyond those in public.  Such acts between us are quite unnecessary," he said.

Dottore rubbed his thumb up and down the column of your neck before he angled his head so his lips were near your ear.

"Unless, of course, you're simply needy enough to put yourself in the maw of a wolf so easily for a quick reprieve.  You never struck me as the sort but I suppose there's a first time for everything."

Heat flooded your cheeks at the insinuation but before you could protest, the Harbinger rolled off of you and out of the bed.  He bent down, picked up the book, and made his way to the door to the sitting room.  For a moment, Dottore looked at the leather-bound cover in his hands before he turned his attention back to you.

"There is little need for someone as lovely as you to give more than is asked to a monster such as myself.  We leave at daybreak."

Oh.  Right.  Honeymoon.  He took care of that and you still had no idea where you were even going.

Without another word, the doors shut, leaving you alone in the large bedroom.  Light bled in through the bottom of the doors.  No doubt he would be awake a while longer. 

You clutched at the bedspread, embroidered with silk and stuffed with down.  It gave easily under your hands, as such soft feathers often did, providing nothing substantial to squeeze.  You weren't insulted or even hurt, as many others in your position would have been.  Confused, certainly, but your ego was intact.

Seduction wasn't precisely a skill you practiced.  Numbers told stories in unique variations and patterns and provided more consistency than people.  People were unpredictable.  Il Dottore especially.

You fell asleep, wondering when all of this would come back to bite you.

[megamindsecretlair]

Room 1918

Cross posted on @megamindssecretlair

Pairing: Nomad Steve x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Dominance, breeding kink, unprotective p in v, fingering fem receiving, biting, cum play, blow job, and dirty talk.

Word Count: 3,569k

Summary: After the troubling events of Civil War, Steve is constantly on the move. But even a super soldier has needs. He just so happened to fall for your charms and you promptly fell into an arrangement. At each hotel you meet at, you reserve Room 1918 and wait for him.

A/N: What can I say, I'm toasted and feral AF for Nomad Steve and just kept writing. Apologies in advance if I missed warnings or offend anyone.Not beta'd or proofread all that well, it's almost 5am for me. LOL. While likes are awesome, please consider commenting and reblogging to support writers!

He’s late. You pace back and forth in front of the window, peeking out every so often. You bite your lip as you think about all the reasons he could be late. The feds caught up to him, he was killed, or some emergency. You think about turning on the TV but the thought of seeing his face plastered on the news makes you sick. 

In between your worries, you’re also excited. Your skin iss sensitive already. You anticipate all the wicked things Steve will do to you tonight. You blow out a breath and look out of the window one more time. 

A knock on the door makes you jump. Your heart races as you cross the dark navy carpet towards the door. You look through the peephole and see a familiar bearded figure with a cap on his head. Still, per his instructions anyway, you call out, “Who’s there?” 

“It’s me,” his deep voice rumbles from the other side. You smile and open the door. Steve stands before you in dark jeans, gray shirt, and a black hoodie. His cap is pulled low over his brow and his beard is growing out. He has a full and proper beard this time, most likely to fool security cameras.

You lean your head on the hotel door and just drink him in. Even in casual clothes, he looks every inch the super soldier you know him to be. Your cheeks warm as you objectify him. His broad shoulders barely fit through the frame as he walks in. 

He pushes past you smelling like sandalwood and soap and man. He is at least a foot taller. He towers over you. He sniffs at you as he brushes past looking down and looking you over. 

You’re wearing a baby pink robe with black trimming. The bottom slightly flared to accommodate your wide hips and it was trimmed in faux mink. It contrasted perfectly with your russet skin. The dim hotel lights make your skin glow and you hope the glitter was showing. But the dark look in his blue eyes let you know that it didn’t matter. He is devouring you in one look. 

“You are a treasure,” he says. 

You giggle softly and close the door behind him. You lock the door and stand before him and let him look his fill.

He takes off his cap and throws it onto the mahogany dresser. His hair is darker, the blond more akin to brown now. His hair is longer too, runaway strands landing into his pretty face. 

“You broke our rule,” he grumbles. His brows draw down, scowling at you.

“Which one?” 

“I could see you from the parking lot, looking out of the window. You can’t do that. If someone catches you…”

“They won’t. No one knows about us. We’ve been careful,” you say. You approach him until you are chest to chest. 

“All the same. Don’t look out of the window. Someone could see, or someone could harm you. These windows aren’t that effective.”

You roll your eyes. You did not wait a whole fucking month to hear a lecture about safety and evasion tips. All you had were stolen moments. One day of being in his arms. The other days, there was no communication. Full and total blackout. You anxiously awaited news that he was captured or killed. Until the next time he hit up your email. 

You set up a joint email account and communicated via the draft folder. He’d send you a city and you’d book a flight. Since you worked for yourself, there was no one to answer to but yourself. Your friends and family just thought you liked to travel. They called you lucky.

You were dating a ghost. And every day he was on the run, was another day you could never be together. And it hurt. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” He asks. 

“I promise I won’t look out of the window next time,” you say. 

“Did you roll your eyes at me?” His voice pitches lower and he scowls even further at you. He spoke slowly as if you hadn’t heard him the first time. A tingle shoots up your legs. 

“Yes, I did,” you say. You raise your eyebrow at him.

Steve sighs and rubs his beard. “I’m not in the mood,” he says. 

You coo and closed the remaining distance, rubbing your hands up and down his arms. “I can fix that,” you say. You trail your hands lower, moving your hands over his jeans. A noticeable bulge grows under your exploring hands and you rub him over his jeans.

Steve grabs your wandering hands in one hand and narrows his eyes at you. His blue eyes are scalding. You would’ve flinched if it didn’t just turn you on. The Steve that stayed hidden away was swimming to the surface. The side of him that he kept hidden was there. 

“I said I’m not in the mood. You’re taking dangerous risks. I won’t risk you,” he says. 

“It’s not dangerous, Steve. I promise. I just…I miss you so fuckin’ much,” you say. 

“That doesn’t mean you can put yourself at risk. You know you belong to me. What would I do without these days I get to see you?” He asks.

He’s right of course, the arrogant prick. “I won’t do anything to risk that, Steve,” you say. An attitude creeps into your tone and you know the moment you fucked up. His eyebrows shoot up at the same time his hands squeezes yours. 

“Just for that, you don’t get your treat tonight. You’ll have to wait another month,” he says.

“Oh come on,” you whine. You know you sound annoying and you hated it. 

“Keep it up, I’ll make it two months.”

“Steve, please,” you say. You pout, sticking out your bottom lip and rounding your eyes. 

“Three months,” he says. His jaw clenches as he stares you down.

“Please Steve, I won’t make it that long,” you plead. 

“I don’t care.” He grabbs your jaw, squeezing your rounded face until your lips pucker. “I told you that I’m not in the mood. Get your ass on the bed, now,” he growls so close to your face that his breath fans over it. He pushes you away until you stumble back a bit.

You manage to lick your lips. Something bad happened today. It was either a close call or he failed to help someone. That whole other side was begging to be pushed. He thought he needed total obedience, but he needed to get worked up more. To push past that barrier and consume you body and soul. 

“Let me make it up to you,” you say. You approach him and slid to the floor to get on your knees. You move closer on your knees. You reach up for his jeans and unbuckle his belt. You tug it through the metal loop. As you work to free him, you keep your eyes on him. He’s so tall, he might as well be a giant. Especially while you were on your knees.

The mink at the bottom of your robe tickles your legs and only works to make your skin hyperaware. The hold the man had on you was like being drunk. Total loss of your control. Your head is fuzzy and you sway. And you overall feel so damn horny, you were nearly combusting.

“Let me earn back my months,” you say.

You palm him and he sighs. His eyes flutter closed as you work him up and down softly. Your hand glides over his velvety soft dick. The serum really increased everything about him. His thick length intimidates you. You’ve sucked him off before but every time required a pep talk.

You lick the head of his dick, painting your tongue with his precum. You swallow the head and lick back and forth over the tip. A groan leaves Steve as he throws his head back. You take him in further, swallowing him down. His hips jerk forward and he digs his hands into your hair.

He places his palm on your scalp and grabs your hair at the roots. He soon takes over, fucking your mouth as if you were nothing more than a hole to be used. He sets the rhythm and the pace, bouncing you up and down. You look at him as you hollow out your cheeks. 

Steve’s dick hits the back of your throat, causing you to choke a bit. Steve groans hearing your whimpers and moans and quiet pleas. Still, he is relentless. Your jaw hurts and tears gather in your eyes.

“That’s my dirty fuckin’ girl,” he says. “Suck that dick, baby.” His whispered commands make your pussy clench with vicious need. His balls slap your chin. He reaches down with his other hand to pull on your dark left nipple. It was his favorite nipple for some reason. Probably because it was slightly bigger than the right and you swore it was more sensitive. Every time he pinched you, it sent a straight shot of desire to your pussy. 

Your whimpers increase, creating a sexy symphony of carnal sounds. His harsh breaths mingle with your crying and soon he’s groaning. “Fuck, this mouth is gorgeous,” he moans.

Steve abruptly pulls out of your mouth with a growl. He grabs your arms and lifts you to your feet. He leans in and licks the tears off your cheek. Then he’s kissing you, stroking his tongue against yours. He grabs your face and moves you backward until your legs are hitting the bed.

“You’re gonna take this cum inside of you,” he say.

“Yes, Steve,” you huff. You rotate your jaw to get some feeling back into it. 

“You only earned one month back,” he say.

You open your mouth to speak but Steve’s eyes burns holy retribution. He finally snaps. He pushes you onto the bed. You hop once. He stares down at you and rubs his beard. You got the sense that he was trying to figure out the best way to attack you. 

He glares at you as he strips. His shirt and hoodie are off in one fell swoop and flung onto the floor. He shucks off his shoes and socks and relieves himself of his jeans and underwear.

Fuck, he was beautiful. Tanned skin, a glory trail down to his impressive dick. It bounces under your gaze and you lick your lips. 

“You better be fuckin’ wet,” he says. He rips open your robe, the snaps releasing at once. You learned your lesson with the button and latch ones. Your robes kept getting shredded with his inhuman strength. And you really like this one. 

You don’t wear anything underneath. Somehow you knew that tonight would be different. Whether it was a hunch or intuition, it came in handy tonight. His gaze roams over your body, sighing and cooing in pleasure.

“You’re really fuckin’ perfect,” he croons. He kept eye contact as he leans forward and over you, licking your tummy. You whimpers. His rough tongue was divine. Surely it was a crime to be this addicted to somebody. His every touch set your nerves on fire. 

Fresh arousal drips out of your pussy and you keen forward trying to get his attention. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that needy little cunt for you,” he says. Oh god, you whimper. 

He climbs onto the bed, forgoing your usual treat of him eating you out. You hoped that after he got that post-nut clarity, he’d be all too happy to oblige. But knowing him, he’d stick to it out of spite. By simply knowing that you needed his lips on your pussy. 

As he came over you, he kisses you so sweetly. Feathering his kisses over your full, luscious lips. He kisses the side of your mouth and then your jaw. He licks a hot trail on your neck. 

Your hands came up to rub his back. He’s on fire. He’s a living furnace under your fingertips. His muscles contract and flex beneath your touch. 

“I’m gonna fill that needy cunt with my seed. I want you so full,” he growls in your ear. The subtle gravel in his voice makes you tingle all over. “I need you so badly. Please,” you beg. 

You’re not too proud to beg. Your pussy aches and feels empty. You need him to fill you up now.  You had a very low tolerance for just about everything. Least of all this weird middle between pleasure and pain. 

Steve denies you further. He continues to rain kisses on your chest, sucking on your titty and biting you. He licks the sting away and then latches on to your nipple. He sucks and teases the little bead between his teeth. He uses one hand to dig under you and grab on to your fat ass. 

He squeezes and growls in satisfaction. He uses his other hand to roll your other nipple with his fingers. You moan and writhe. You sigh. “Please, please, please,” you cry.

He kneads your breast and pinches your nipple. Then he switches sides. His mouth came over his favorite nipple and gave it just as much attention. Freezing hotel air hit your wet nipple and you shivered. His free hand came up to warm your titty once more. 

“Steve,” you beg. You couldn’t speak anymore. It was too much.

“That’s my filthy girl,” he says. He lowers his left hand to dance over your damp curls. You suck in a breath. He digs his finger between your pussy lips and sighs. You’e so wet, the sounds of which echoed in the silent room. 

“You’re making a mess over here, sweetheart,” he chides. You whimper and your legs shake. Your nails dig into Steve’s shoulders. He rubs your clit in agonizingly slow circles. Your arousal ramps higher and higher until your body begins to jerk and twitch. 

“Cum for me, dirty girl. Cum on my fingers,” he croons. 

You’re stuttering breaths and shaking so much that he leans down further until he is right on top of you. The solid weight of him made you come undone. He curls his fingers inside of you and you come with a powerful force, waves of please washing over you. Your body seizes as you come. 

Steve talks you down from it, calling you a pretty girl and beautiful and gorgeous. Each new adjective soaked into your brown skin, lighting you up from the inside. You absently rub his head, letting his silky tresses slip through your fingers. 

Your skin’s overheated. If it wasn’t for his body laying on top of yours, you would’ve been shivering from how incredibly cold you were. You sniffle as runaway tears escaped your eyes. 

Steve kisses your cheek, once again licking up the tears. He makes his way back to your mouth. He kisses you lazily. As if you had all the time in the world. He bites your bottom lip hard enough to sting. Then he licks it away. He leans back and sucks on his fingers. The fingers that were inside of you.

You smell your arousal on his fingers. Your breathing starts to settle as Steve sticks his fingers into your mouth. You taste yourself on his fingers and whimper. 

He leans up until he’s kneeling on the bed. He grabs your thighs and moves them to his hips so that he’s lined up perfectly. He pitches forward and lets his smooth dick rub your clit. You’re still a bit sensitive from your orgasm so you twitch on every up-slide. 

Then, he shoves in one full thrust. You’re so slippery, he slides in without resistance. You both moan at the contact. You’re finally full and fuck, it burns so good. He stays like that for a few moments as you acclimate to his size and girth. 

“Fuck. Your pussy feels so damn good,” he says. 

You whimper beneath him and move up and down, trying to signal without words that he needed to move. He pants above you. His floppy hair falls over his brow and half in his eyes. He licks his lips as he stares at you.

Oh, right. You tap his arm twice to let him know that you were okay and he could keep going. You found out pretty quickly that he was capable of rendering you catatonic. You needed a system that communicated through taps to let him know that you were down for everything he was doing. 

He leans forward and kisses you before sliding out of you and then sliding back in. “Such a messy, filthy girl. You’re making a mess all over my dick,” he says.

“Oh god, Steve,” you cry. You clench around his dick and you both groan. You grab onto his forearms and wrap your thick legs around his waist. He starts to piston inside of you, going so deep and hard that he’s hitting the shit out of your G spot. 

You hold on, bouncing on his dick. His balls slap against your ass. 

“Fuck, I’m going to give you all this cum, sweetheart. Tell me you want it,” he says.

“I want it so badly. Please fill me up, please.” 

A desperate need takes hold of you. He feels so good sliding in and out of you with ease. You truly are making a mess. He takes your wrists in his one palm and lifts them above your head until your breasts are on full display. His other hand grips your knee and pushes it back to get a better angle. Somehow, he’s able to go deeper and you make all kinds of incoherent sounds.

You’re pretty sure you’re gonna bruise in the morning. His grip is punishing, locking you into place. Steve chases his own orgasm, giving you no more thought as he closes his eyes and groane. His stomach contracts from the effort of gliding into you. 

“Take this fuckin’ cum, sweetheart. I want your pussy full of my cum. Only mine. Help me fill you up,” he grunts.

He thrusts harder, his thighs slapping against yours. You clench and clench around him, your belly burning with the need to cum. 

“I’m going to put a baby in that pussy of yours. I want your belly to be swollen,” he growl. 

“Oh fuck,” you scream. An orgasm rips through you. Sparks fly behind your eyelids. Your body convulses and twists and turns. Steve lets go of your wrists to hold himself up. He pumps three more times before bursting inside of you with a long, guttural moan. 

His hot seed squirts inside of you, bathing your insides. He pumps a few more times before dropping on top of you. He shakes and you rub his back. You touch every inch of him you could get your hands on. 

He withdraws and you make embarrassing squelching noises as he pulls out. His cum leaks out. You groan from the sensation. He leans up and away, leaning back on his haunches so he can grab your legs and spread them apart.

He surveys his handy work and lord help, but you were getting aroused again. He grunted in between his huffs. 

“You keep that fuckin’ cum inside you,” he growls. He dips his hand down to gather up the cum that slips out. Then he pushes it back inside of you, massaging your overworked pussy. 

“That’s my fuckin’ pussy, that I can use however I want right?” He asks.

“Yes, Steve,” you whisper. You shiver from him fucking his cum back into you. 

“You gonna keep this cum inside you? You gonna grow my baby?” He asks.

“Oh god, yes Steve,” you whine. 

This orgasm sneaks up on you. One minute he is adding a third finger inside of you and the next, you’re huffing and whining and whimpering again. He fucks you through it, moving his fingers in and out as you cry out. Your sweet cries flow over the walls and hit you back.

“So needy and filthy,” he says. 

As you come down, he grins at you for the first time that night. He licks his fingers as he gives you a devilish grin. 

“The things I’m going to do to you tonight,” he says wistfully. His eyes look over your deep russet skin, your big tummy, and juicy breasts. 

You yawn and he chuckles. “Thank you, sweetheart. Get some sleep, we’ve got a long night to make up for.”

Steve untangles himself from you, crossing the room to the bathroom. You curl up on your side as sleep tugs heavily. Steve returns with a washcloth to clean you up. You feel the cold circle of your arousal on the bed. It’s huge. You groan. You can’t believe that all of that came out of you. 

Steve takes care of himself with his own washcloth before laying down and pulling you into him. His warm chest hits your back and your ass hits his dick. You both sigh as you wiggle a bit. Steve tells you to behave. 

He wraps a massive arm around your waist and pulls you closer, his fingers curling underneath you. You’re locked in and aren't about to go anywhere. 

You fall into a deep, deep sleep curled up with the literal man of your dreams.

There's more Steve to love! The Secret Nomad Steve Files

[propalitetz]

i had to draw one of my favourite Katya Looks :tm:

 shes such a fascinating character - i think this outfit is super important (beyond being hot as fuck)  because up until this scene katya has treated luxury items (the mink fur coat, the jewelry) almost with reverence (and can you blame her, given her backstory???) unlike goncharov, who gets dirty and bloody in his expensive suits. and then in this scene she’s just - bathed in blood! that fur coat is ruined, but she doesn’t seem to care, even though she wouldn’t let goncharov touch her with bloody hands a few scenes ago (and what a metaphor THAT is) - i dont know if she’s just embraced the violence that will become their downfall, got accustomed to her role as the mob wife too late to matter, or if she’s realized none of this will matter tomorrow, or what!

[xxchaosjojoxx]

I want you to see me [1/5] (Penguin x reader)

After the events on Whole Cake Island,  you rejoined your Crew, the Heart Pirates, with the strawhats. You never interacted with Shachi, Penguin and the rest of your crew due to your shy personality. Suddenly you can interact with them without any problems and are really close to Sanji on top of it. Even so, Penguin isn’t quite fond of you, seeing you and Sanji flirting with each other makes him a little jealous.

A/N: Welcome to my first mini serie. I hope you will like it <3 There is a hint of Sanji x reader

Chapter 1: Wano Kuni, here I come.

“No, you won’t be doing this! Law said angrily. You gulped and looked him in the eyes. “But Captain. I wanna help as well.” - “Then join Bepo, Shachi and Penguin.” Law was totally annoyed. You were with the strawhats on Whole cake Island to help them save Sanji, despite the fact that you were a member of the Heart Pirates. Captain Law wasn’t happy with your decision, but he trusted you enough to let you go for this mission. Now you and the rest of Luffy's crew are on Wano and reunite with the other members as well. As the other strawhats received their undercover role in Wano Kuni you wanted one as well and had an idea, but your captain wasn’t very happy about it. “I want to be more useful for once. Please, I beg you, captain.” Law was getting more furious. “You won’t be a prostitute here, are you nuts?!” He couldn’t control his voice. Normally you would tremble, avoiding your gaze. But you learned a lot from the strawhats while you were on WCI and didn’t look away. “I won’t be doing this kinda stuff I promise. But this Kyoshiro guy is suspicious. I am sure I can gain helpful information from either him or Komurasaki. Maybe I can work as a geisha or whatever by his side.” Law sighed heavily. “This is way too risky. You know that. If you wanna be active, you can join blackleg-ya and help him with his soba noodle shop. You can cook as well.” Law was staring at me with an unamused expression. Your face lit up. “Ok. I won’t disappoint you. Thank you captain.” And with that and the help of Kinemons devil fruit you were ready for your first mission.

A few days later~

“There is nothing going around lately.” Shachi sighed while he watched the area with binoculars. Shachi, Penguin and Bepo's daily routine was observing and  delivering Kinemon’s secret message to his allies. Bepo stood up and was on his way towards the city. “Where are you going, Bepo?” The mink turned around, looking at his two crewmates. “I will go see Sangoro and Y/N to share our newest information. “Oh right. Y/N is back. I didn’t see her after she left Zou.” Penguin said while Shachi nodded his head. “Yeah I wonder why she even joined the strawhats or why the captain allowed it.” Penguin hummed. “We should accompany you. I could use something to eat.” And with that the three of them were on their way to the city.

While they arrived in the city they could see Sanji’s soba noodle shop on the streets and with that a large crowd of customers. “Woah, his business is insane.” “Their noodles are absolutely delicious” Bepo said and was on his way towards the shop. “Hey Shachi look. There are so many beautiful women there.” Penguin was in paradise. A small blush on his face. Shachi shook Penguin’s shoulder. “Dude look at this girl in this cute (f/c) kimono. She looks like a princess. Their cook is such a lucky bastard to have so many women gathering around him.”

While they were fangirling about all those women, Bepo sat down on a near bench, receiving a bowl of noodles from said girl. Shachi and Penguin rushed to his side while Bepo was enjoying his soba noodles. “Bepo what are you doing?! I thought you wanted to share information.” The mink looked at them sheepily. “My apologies. But I was so hungry.” Before Shachi and Penguin could say anything else, the girl with the (f/c) kimono joined them. “Hey guys, wanna have a bowl of our soba noodles as well?” She asked and smiled at them. Both men jumped in surprise, smiling like idiots and nodding their heads, while sitting on the bench beside Bepo. After a few moments, she joined them with two bowls of hot soba noodles. “Enjoy your meal.” Shachi and Penguin were in heaven. This girl was way too cute for their own heart. “Can I have another bowl please?” Bepo asked shyly and the woman was holding his empty bowl in her hand. “Of course Bepo.” She said happily and again gave him a big smile. Bepo replied with a smile as well. “Thank you Y/N. Those noodles are the best. I missed your cooking.” Penguin and Shachi choked on their food and coughed, nearly dying from this. “Oh no, I forgot the water.” You said and were fast to bring both of them a glass of water. After they drank a big gulp of water they were staring at you. “W-Wait…Y/N?!” Penguin asked surprise. Shachi was still coughing while he tried to get a good look at you. “You are Y/N? What happened?” You tilted your head. “You mean on Whole cake island? That’s a long story. Maybe I should tell you this later.” “No!” Shachi shouted at you and you shrieked in surprise. “I meant what happened to you. You were always sitting alone in the corner, without even talking or looking at us. You were a plain and inconspicuous person. How the hell are you so different right now? Why do you chat with us like we were good friends?” You were pouting and felt anger rising in your chest. Before you could answer Shachi, Sanji came by your side leaning an arm around your shoulder. “Y/N-chan, is everything all right?” Sanji asked you while his gaze was on your crewmates. The blonde looked pretty pissed. “Yes Sanj- eh I mean Sangoro. Shachi is just being a bit rude right now.” You calmly said. Shachi was shocked while Penguin couldn’t even say anything at all. He was just staring at you. “Mi amore, if they don’t wanna be around your beautiful presence I will. Will you join me again?” Sanji said with a smile on his lips, as he turned his head so he could look at you. He clearly had heart eyes right now. You met his eyes and chuckled. ”Ok there, handsome. We have a lot of work to do today. Go ahead. I will join you shortly." Sanji nodded and went back towards his little shop. “You can flirt? Are you even the same Y/N we know? Our crewmate?” Shachi was still on and you turned towards him. Your smile was gone. “Of course I am. You just don’t know me, otherwise you wouldn’t say something like that.” “What are you saying? You ignore us all the time by sitting alone in the corner and reading a book without joining us for any fun occasions.”  Penguin stood up looking between the both of you. “Stop it guys.” You both gazed at each other. “I had my reasons for it.” 

”Only because you decide to dress up and be friends with the strawhats doesn’t mean you can trashtalk us right now.” Penguin was touching Shachi’s shoulder. “Shachi, stop there for a second.” But they both ignored Penguin. “HEY!” You heard a loud yell. Sanji was on his way towards you with an angry look on his face. “Can you stop screaming for once? And don’t you dare talk to Y/N-chan like that.” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed your hand with a ‘Come on, my dear’ and dragged you away from Bepo, Shachi and Penguin. “Now I know why she is like that. They both have the same attitude.” Shachi growled. Bepo tried to calm Shachi down. Penguin was looking at you and Sanji. You were so different back there. He kinda liked you smiling at them earlier and being friendly towards them. You were never interested in your crewmates except for Captain Law, Ikkaku and Bepo. Never ever talking or interacting with him or Shachi. Seeing you like this, talking to them without any problems, he felt unsure and a sting in his heart. He wished you were able to interact more often with him and the rest of the crew in the beginning. After time passed he figured out that you dislike them, so Shachi and Penguin weren’t too keen when it comes to you as well. Penguin was looking at you. You were working and smiling at the blonde chef. Penguin gritted his teeth when he saw Sanji’s hand was on your body, guiding you with something. “This dude is touching her all the time without any problems.” Penguin said, while Shachi and Bepo looked at him confused. “What does it matter? She clearly enjoys his attention. We should go back to our spot right now.” Shachi said and the three of them returned back to the top of the nearby mountain.

After your work for the day was done, you and Sangoro cleaned everything up. “Those two are idiots.” Sanji said. He was still a little furious about the situation earlier. “They were right tho. I did reject every offer to get along with them…I even ignored Shachi and Penguin the whole time.” Sanji interrupted you. “But you had your reasons.” You sighed. “Yeah but they don’t know them. It’s ok Sanji. I will apologize to them the next time I see them. I was pretty rude back there as well.”You silently stood beside him. “Maybe you should join us Y/N-chan. I’m sure Luffy wouldn’t be against it.” “I can’t, Sanji.” Sanji sighed and lit up a cigarette. He blew some smoke before turning towards you. “I know you are loyal to your captain and he appreciates you and your skills. You looked at him sadly. “Do you really think so?” He grinned at you.”Of course Y/N-chan. Otherwise he wouldn’t have let you go to Whole Cake Island to rescue me. Say, why are you interested in this douchebag anyway?” Your face turned red. “S-Sanji…! Don’t be so loud. I..-I guess he doesn’t remember anymore but when they docked on my island, he was the first of the crew I met. He was so thoughtful and sweet back there. I couldn’t help myself.”

[chrollohearttags]

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 • 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲: 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰: 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞

𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞: 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐭/𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

📝: finally getting around to posting my kinktober works over here, apologies for the late updates!

cw: 2.1K

dimmed lights flickering from the inside of the confined elevator cascaded over your face..

covered by that of only (y/n)'s side parted, pin curled tresses and Dior shades.

the cherry red tube dress fashioned by Givenchy accented that curvy silhouette, and a mink shawl draped across your shoulders.

quiet dings signaling the passage of a new floor and with each one, your excitement grew.

as did the man's standing next to you with his hand cradling your wide hips.

"Did I tell you how sexy you look tonight?"

"Only for about the fourth time, but who's counting?"

both of your voices cracking into faint chuckles at the remark while he continued holding you close..nuzzling you against that muscular body.

"Well I can't help myself. I just know perfection when I see it."

"Mmm..you flatter me too much, big papa. I'm far from, trust me."

just prior, you were in the downstairs bar, taking shots and now the party was headed upstairs.

his scent intoxicating, imbued with traces of Armani cologne and money; grape scented smoke along with whiskey faint on his breath, a mixture you had grown quite accustomed to.

every following weekend for as long as you could recount, this was the routine.

in and out of the most expensive hotels in the country, only preceded by fully funded shopping sprees and five star dinners..

all in exchange for the best few hours that a man could experience.

but he didn't mind because you were worth every last penny. He'd pay every bill you had and buy whatever you wanted if you kept making him feel this way.

it was give and take: the prize of a vibrant, beautiful young woman on his arm and the stability of a mature, handsome man on yours..

he never bothered to disclose his true name, personal life or anything about himself and maybe for his own protection, it was for the best..

you only knew him by the alias 'Captain Smoker' and the man that single handedly afforded you your extravagant lifestyle.

but there was one thing about this mystery of a man that you had come to learn was that he had an acquired taste for cigars.

he always kept the most expensive brands on his persons and since becoming his personal escort, you'd notice them all the time.

after dinner, with his obligatory glass of scotch and especially after many rounds of love making, he was lighting one up.

weirdly enough, it was quite the turn on!

watching his lips purse around the tip of that rolled Cuban and exhaled as your fingertips danced across his bare chest.

those pillowy clouds circulating above when you were on your knees, taking him by the mouthful with your nimble hands wrapped around his thick member.

occasionally glancing down between heavy breaths and hits to stroke your head with pats of encouragement.

"Good girl...take it all in, just like that. You know what daddy likes.."

his gravelly voice making you quiver, and ache for more each time he spoke to you. Tonight was no exception..

the elevator reached the top floor of the building, housing a hallway full of luxurious suites..rented out for thousands a night but equipped with all that you need.

he'd allow you to step out first, out of courtesy and the privilege of watching those hips and ass sway with each step.

all he could do was shake his head in anticipation of what he was going to do once you reached closed doors.

retrieving the key card from between your bosom, you'd swipe it across the lock and it'd open.

leading him inside, you'd take his hand and your bodies met instantly. He'd scoop you up in his arms only to pin your smaller frame against the wall.

your legs curled his back and your arms coiled his neck for support as he raised the hem of that already short dress.

in one fell swoop, he brought your panties down your thighs and onto the floor at the same time, catching some of your slick on his rugged fingertips.

he was mad with lust, ready to ravage you from head to toe.

but he couldn't take you like this, so he'd set you to your feet and tear that dress off.

you had never seen him so riled up but you loved this newfound aggression! Not even a full minute later, he was straddling you from behind..

snaking those digits between your plump lips and clit. That pretty little heat already foaming and dripping for him, just as he liked!

giggling and yelping while he rendered you nude, he'd bring your ass closer to him so he could feel it grinding on his dick.

"Fuck..that feels so good. Playing with my pussy like that.."

heavy grunts and subtle moans kept escaping his lips and trailing to you ear, making chills creep up your spine.

"Mmm..sorry, but she'll have to wait. Turn around and get on your knees, baby..that face is too pretty for me not to fuck it."

he was so much more vulgar than normal but you didn't mind.  Whatever daddy wanted, he got. That's the way it always was and would be!

crouching to your feet with those heels still supporting your weight, (y/n) waited patiently for him to undo his pants.

that belt came off first and he was quick to lace it around your throat. This way, he could have control of you as he saw fit.

sticking your tongue out, you felt it slapped by his freed cock now.

brushing that thumb against your forehead, he'd prompt you to keep your eyes on him, and don't look down for a second.

as those big voluminous eyelashes batted at him, he couldn't help but want to thrust until they were falling off.

but as always, he had to spark one up before he got started. In the pocket of that button down, he'd retrieve a cigar and ignite the end with a lighter.

he didn't want to be gentle tonight, just get his money's worth.

"Keep your hands by your side until I tell you."

"Yes sir.."

bouncing that tip against the brim of your mouth, Captain grasped the back of your head and slid it in. It was always such a relief to feel your warm jaws wrapped around him.

with that leather strap curled around his knuckles, jolting your neck around, he forms a perfect rhythm as his pelvis met you.

that thick member sliding in and out so casually, as if it were nothing, which is why he couldn't leave you alone.

saliva began to trickle down your chin and throat, along with gagging noises and he wasn't letting up.

all the while, clouds of smoke billowed above your head in intervals as he continued using your throat like a sleeve. Those gulping noises were driving him crazy and it was apparent by his loud moaning.

"Keep going, doll face..until you suck me dry. Make a mess on it like you always do."

it was an absolutely beautiful sight and he wasn't slowing down.

but neither were you..watching him puff and glare at you as if you were nothing more than his pet, his personal slut made you want to please him even more.

he'd tighten that grip and go faster until finally, he was able to work himself entirely down your throat until your forehead was on his v-line and you were slapping his thigh.

"Ohhhh, shit!..yes, hold it in. Keep it in there if you want that new purse, baby."

despite gagging and salivating everywhere, you'd do as he said and brush the underside of his dick with your tongue until he released his grip.

when he did, you were breathing heavily and spitting  everywhere.

"Good girl..that was pretty damn impressive."

gently cooing as he brushed tufts of your curly hair from your face.

that's when he prompted you to hold your hands out and cup them together so that you could catch that falling spit.

"Rub that on my dick, jerk me off nice and slow too..I wanna enjoy every second."

he knew his time with you was limited so he wanted it to count. To make certain that the memories lingered for days on end.

so you'd slather that mixture all over his aching shaft, pumping it between your palms.

you'd put your mouth to use by nursing his swollen balls with those plump, brown and gloss covered lips on them, leaving tiny marks and kisses.

that twisting motion combo and the gentle pecks on his tip were driving him crazy.

"You're too good to an old man, making me feel like this..shit!"

and he could tell just how much you enjoyed pleasuring him, just by the look on your face. He made it so easy, honestly.

the aroma of that fragrant smoke filled the room and tingled your senses, weirdly making you crave him significantly.

it seemed to have triggered something inside of you and each time it hit your nose, you'd become entranced.

that's when jerk your makeshift collar and tell you to stop.

"Open wide, pretty girl. Let me give you your reward.."

"Yes sir...I want all of that nut."

with your eyes closed, you'd tilt your head back with a wide smile and slide that tongue out to receive his cum.

but instead, you were first greeted with smoke being shotgunned down your windpipe. That was certainly new but the feeling was amazing.

"I've always wanted to do that."

that faint buzz of nicotine stimulated your senses and you'd take it without hesitation. Following right after, you'd hear his boisterous grunting and feel that white warmth splatter your face.

the way he wrung his wrist around and painted your throat with every drop.

swallowing just as you promised, the seed trickled down your esophagus and you'd proudly show him it was all gone.

"That's why I can't stop being with you, doll face. You're so goddamned sexy."

being praised like that always made you wetter and by now, you needed him to return the favor. Your legs parted in a spread position as you began to touch yourself..

"Why don't I take care of that for you?..here.."

releasing that grip on the belt, he'd help you back to your feet for the time being as he started to strip from his clothes.

you couldn't help but be infatuated with how damn fine he was, even at his age. That grey hair, washboard abs and impeccable stature..

he was one hell of a man.

once he was nude, he'd go over to the bed, lying flat on his back before proceeding to stroke himself. Patting his thigh, he'd summon you over with the wave of a finger.

"Come sit on this dick for me, doll face."

"Don't have to tell me twice.."

and it was still hard! Standing at full attention in hhs grasp and slapping his bellybutton when he laid it flat.

you didn't hesitate to kick off those heels and come crawling on top of him. You were dripping wet so you needed some good pipe right now.

but before you could get yourself positioned, he'd shake his head and move his finger in a slow twirling motion.

he wanted you to ride him in reverse!

"I want to see that pretty little ass bouncing on my shit..it's so soft and round.."

and you wouldn't hesitate to give him what he asked for; turning around, you'd turn to face the front half of the suite, planting your fingers into his thighs.

your back straight and chest poked out as you propped yourself up on that member. Wrapping your smaller hand around it, you'd feed it in as you lowered your body down.

it felt so good that you couldn't help but to release a little moan, sucking your teeth in the process.

from this angle, he could see your tight grip and tiny butterfly tattooed on your left ass cheek. His rough palms caressed the small of your perfectly arched back and that beautiful brown skin...

saying he was obsessed was an understatement.

"Start slow, doll..we're in no rush tonight."

that tight grip took hold of him instantly and you could feel him pulsating inside of you.

both of you releases sharp gasps from the sensation and he wasn't shy about letting you know how good it felt!

grunting and slapping your ass, he'd grab ahold of that belt again and reign you in. But you needed no help.

each time you went back, that tight pussy wrapped around him like it was nothing. Taking him deep inside of that wet hole..

"Oh shit..ride that fucking dick, baby. You're creaming already? You must not want me to ever leave."

and he was correct. Even though he was paying for your services and you were pleasuring him, no one had ever come close to fucking you the way this man did!

letting out loud, high pitched moans, you'd muster up a giggle while you kept going.

"It's so good..I can't help myself..mmm!"

after a while, you'd gain your rhythm and start throwing it back. Even making those heavy cheeks collide and bounce off of his pelvis.

the smacking from your sticky mess growing louder with each one.

needless to say, you had him losing his mind!

leaning up, he'd tug on your collar and pull you back so that he could swirl his tongue around in your mouth one more time.

his hand clutching your throat at the same time made you clamp down and squeeze him even tighter. You could feel how close he was from the way it pulsated inside of you...

so you were going to milk him for every bit of that nut.

leaning forward again, you'd reach up to grasp his ankles and doubled down on it.

the heavy bouncing and clutching grip was too much for him to bare and soon, he'd pine for your waist, holding you so he could thrust upward.

"Gah!—hold still, baby. Let me fuck you for a minute!.."

with everything he had left, he'd meet you with those thrusts until you felt his nails clawing into your skin; a sure sign that he was about to climax.

and you were directly behind him.

"I'm coming! I can feel it throbbing.."

you'd yell out while stroking your clit in unison and soon, he'd meet you there when he reached your aching g-spot; throwing it inside of you as fast as he could.

there was no way either of you were lasting another minute.

"Together, baby! You ready?"

nodding your head and whimpering while bouncing on him, you'd prepare to release all of that pent up arousal.

"Then come on this dick! Come for me.."

and the way he growled, commanding..done you in and you'd let out a loud cry along with creamy liquids all over his shaft and balls.

he was drenched but he wasn't the only one because at the same time, you could feel that warm cum coating your insides.

it was as if both of you saw heaven at the same time, climaxing as one.

"Oh God..that was..perfect. Come here."

he was barely coherent when you climbed off of him and into his arms. Both of your chests rising and falling to catch your breaths.

like clockwork, he'd scoop you into his grasp and reach over for his second smoke.

and following suit, you'd retrieve his lighter and let the tiny flame hit the tip. He definitely needed something to calm him after the way you fucked him!

kissing your temple, he'd just glare as if you were the most precious, delicate thing on earth. He wanted this everyday..he wanted you around everyday.

but that life wasn't in the cards for either side..so you'd enjoy this moment while it lasted.

"You know, I might sound crazy, but I think I might have a slight problem. I think I'm addicted to you, (y/n). I can't stop."

he wasn't getting any younger but you always managed to make him feel more and more alive. Still, you couldn't help but to giggle at his statement.

"Even more so than your cigars?"

"A man can't choose between his two loves. But if I had to say..you're definitely in first place. I love you, sweetheart."

"Well I'm flattered..and I love you too."

the two of you would find yourselves cracking up, and he'd keep doting on you; reveling in this afterglow until the same came and you left with the moon.

maybe it wasn't forever but like the scent of his cigars, after they are long gone, you'd give him memories that would always linger.

[herzzgeist]

As Sweet As Honey

A/N: A little something that has been lingering on my mind for ages and dusted up in my drafts for way too long. Oh and the header isn't mine!

Content: A short story for fem!reader who needs some wholesomeness with a hint of spice right now - something in between chai latte and mint chocolate to get the senses going

The song that inspired me to write this

Winter's night - often one's reason to overthink for hours and drowning in rhapsodies.

Law's fingers fidget around the coffee mug's handle, subsequently setting the cup aside - feeling strained and depraved, in need of something refreshing. Anything really.

He doesn't mind a bit of company for a change, instead of lingering in his office, glued to the books and papers piling up in towers on his desk.

Each step taken grows heavier, the cold chilling the surgeon to managable extent, yet enough to make him zip up his blue feather coat.

Feathers, that tickle his chin whenever he goes, each step taken reminding him of a man he wished was still among you.

Across the submarine's deck, his black shoes clack upon the wooden impact below. On his way to the local inn, where his crew decided to linger for tonight, the Captain's mind spins around you - when was the last time he saw you?

Felt like ages ago when he heard your delightful voice, hence his uncharacteristic longing of finding you.

The inn is less crowded than expected, only Shachi, Penguin and Bepo remain. Perhaps a few strangers here and there, but all in all the calm is more appeasing to Law's preference.

"Where are the others? Have you seen (Y/n)-ya?"

He asks Bepo, seemingly the last person approachable, for he didn't drink any mind fogging bevarages. What about Shachi and Penguin? Well, alcohol got the better of them, for they knocked their heads against the bar counter, snoring off in the distance. Thus the bear speaks:

"The others have moved on to the next tavern across the street. And (Y/n) should be around here somewhere. Oh, check out the common room in the back, Captain!"

The mink's ears wiggle and twitch in thoughtfulness, considering on wether to join the search for you, or not, however Law insists on going on his own.

What a strange place to be, the inn's taste in furniture bringing up more and more questions. The so called common room resembles a library, tall shelves filled with books and scrolls, for anyone to read and indulge in. It looks inviting, drawing the aloof man in like a moth to the flame.

"Captain! What are you doing here?"

Your voice reaches the surgeon's ears, eliciting a shiver down his spine. Seeing you seated on a couch in the corner, all cozy and wrapped up in a blanket, he accompanies you and lets himself fall into the plush cushions.

"Needed a break from work, so I thought I'd check in on you guys."

"Guys? But you're here with me."

"I trust Bepo's word. He told me the others roam the night life and get their heads ready to hang over tomorrow. They should be alright. Probably."

Listening to your Captain's adorable excuse, you take a sip from your cup. Steel eyes flicker to your lips, fixated on the cherry coloured skin earning more sarutation by the hot liquid flowing over it.

Desire begins to roil inside him and he clears his throat:

"Coffee?"

"No, warm milk and honey. Would you like to have some?"

"It's not exactly the healthiest bevarage to drink on late hours . ."

"Come on, only one sip. I swear I'm not contagious. Besides, it's better than alcohol."

As if you read his mind, he gives in to your cute pout and puffed up cheeks, frowning at him in a rather ridiculous way. It's almost able to earn a low chuckle out of Law.

So he does as offered and lets the warm liquid entice his senses, which it does to your surprise, noticing a spark of relish in those dark circled eyes.

"Good?"

"Unexpectedly."

"Let me get you a seperate mug then."

Before you're heaving yourself off the couch, inked hands hold you in place by grabbing onto your wrist. No words are needed for you to understand, that he wants you to stay, not in need of another cup.

Another set of hours pass by far too quick for both of your tastes and the warm milk in the jug gets emptier by the minute. Not to mention the honey jar, the golden delight basically vanishes into thin air.

It is the cozy and fuzzy spreading in your head, feeling as if influenced under the tangy effects of alcohol, in a more serene matter nonetheless.

With a book in hands, you turn the pages, your digit following the black imprinted letters. Law leans in, curious about the literature you are soaking in, his warmth engulfing you almost completely.

Until now, you haven't noticed that the Captain inched nearer. Legs touching and rubbing up against eachother. The closeness is electrifying - or is it your imagination? He already has taken on the scent of honey, opting you to inhale deeply, leaving you tongue tied.

"What kind of honey is this anyway?"

"I was told it is lavender, made from the inn keeper's own bee keeping."

Reaching out for the jar, his adorned fingers sling around the spoon and he leads it to his mouth. Delighted, he hums and praises the sweetness and flavor.

"May I try as well?"

Without a comment he takes another scoop and again licks off the sticky goodness. You aren't certain, yet it dawns on you that, according to this gesture, he is about to do something unexpected.

His face approaches yours, though in hesitance, lips slightly parted like a bow, ready to shoot it's shot. Law lets his digits graze along your cheeks, down your jaw and finally your neck. For his hand now rests on your nape, he gently pulls you in.

Tilting his head to grant further access, the kiss forms into a deep and longing affection. A surprised squeak escapes you as the sensation of honey enriches your mouth, combined with the cautious ask for entry of Law's tongue.

You hook your arms around his neck and recognise his body trembling and shivering by your touch. To confirm your theory about his nervosity, you press your chest against him, the faint of his racing heart beat noticable.

Syncronizing to his pace, your heart nearly pounds out of your throat and Law bites your lower lip in response to your interim mewlings. Tongues glide along another, savouring the sweet of honey, the appealing sounds enhanced by the stickiness.

Besides honey, you identify the smell of desinfectant and amber musk, oddly enough. All your senses go in overdrive, arroused by his hands on your curves, digging into your plush.

As he pulls away, you whimper in abandonment and he purrs:

"What do you think?"

"A-About what?"

"The honey . ."

Twirling his raven strands, you withold a dreamy sigh and flutter your doe eyes at him. Law lets out a shaky breath in your stead, comprehending your inuendo and brings his lips to yours again, this time with more force.

The kiss turns fervent fairly quick, as he drags you onto his lap, feeling down your back and squeezing your behind seductively.

"You're unbelievable."

"What makes you think so? Pray tell."

In between desperate gasps for air, the both of you nibble on eachother's sensitive skin and he whispers, stuttering almost:

"You beguile me with the simplest of things. Do you know how adorable you look while reading? Or how god damn appealing you are when smiling?"

"Oh am I now?"

His hands embrace your waist and the highly agitated man, in more than one way, pulls you even closer:

"You are as sweet as honey and it drives me insane . . you vixen."

"Quit your complaints Captain and give me another taste."

The tasting lasted longer than anticipated . .

[kimthwariru]

Like the wind

pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

genre: smut, enemies to lovers, angst, collage au, rich kid!Taehyung

warnings: slight mention of religion and god

check out chapter 1 here

Chapter 2: Tell me pretty lies, look me in the face

Hating someone feels disturbingly similar to being in love with them. Love and hate are related to each other in a complex manner;they are visceral. Your stomach twists at the thought of that person. Your blood rushes to your cheeks when someone mentions their name, the heart in your chest beats heavy and bright, nearly visible through your flesh and clothes. Every interaction spikes your blood with a dangerous kind of adrenaline, your body is barely under your control. You’re consumed, and it scares you.

That’s exactly how you felt about Kim Taehyung.

You can’t quite explain it, but even though you didn’t fancy him all too much, there was a part of you that wanted him near you. The mere mention of his name made your blood boil. Especially after that night.

You’d never felt this way about a person before. One minute you wanted to kill him the other you wanted to fuck him. Was there something wrong with you?

Out of all people, why him?

The thing that had been bothering you lately, the question that has been popping up in your head ever since that day;how did he feel about you?

He hasn’t contacted once. Not a single message, and you knew he could get your number if he wanted to, the thing is, he didn’t want to. If he wanted to communicate somehow, he would have, and that just confirms the thought that has been hiding in the back of your brain, too ashamed to come out because of how embarrassing it would be to admit to such a thing to yourself;that Taehyung only used you for his own pleasure. That he didn’t actually care about you, but only about what you did together. You were another victim that fell for him, and that frustrated you.

“Yo are you even listening to me?” Jin’s voice woke you up from your daydreaming. It was the first day of college, Jin was trying to explain accurately every professor’s background and personality. It was sweet of him to offer to help you out, but you didn’t really need it, especially since you were having an entire inner monologue about how much you fucked up things with Kim Taehyung before the semester even started. “Repeat what I just said” he ordered

“I’ve got to be honest…” you began, but before you could even come up with a poor excuse as to why you had been staring at the empty space for what was probably 15 minutes, Jin interrupted you.

“You weren’t even listening to me!” He whined

“Sorry, I have quite the busy mind” you chuckled and pushed his shoulder hoping he would brush this whole thing away and not ask any questions. “it’s almost 10, I’ve got to go”

•••

It almost felt like a dream when you took your first step into Hashfield college. You thought you were mentally prepared for what you were about to witness in this school, but you immediately felt your jaw drop when your gaze caught on a striking woman with . . . questionable style. She wore a mink shawl in September, over a thin olive-green dress, and thigh-high boots. Long blonde hair fell in smooth waves, and with her fake eyelashes and large hoop earrings, she was like an ad to the seventies era. And, as if she wasn’t doing her job well enough, she blew a pink bubble and popped it, her eyes narrowing on you like you were the one whose style was four decades too late.

Now, judging someone based on how they dressed for school was not a habit of yours, but the attitude she was wearing along with her outfit was definitely annoying you a bit.

Just by the way she made a grimace at a couple of girls that simply passed by her, minding their own business (an asset very rare for insiders) screamed what type of girl she was.

You know the kind, probably a cheerleader, or a leader in some kind of attention seeking club, popular, possibly had every jock wrapped around her fingers. These type of girls, they never leave high school, they never abandon that mindset, it stays with them. Mean, cavalier, superficial... The kind who doesn’t have a thought stay in her head too long or else she needs a nap. If polar opposites were ever in the same room, it was her and you, undoubtedly.

She was surrounded by 2 fit guys and a red head that was carrying a handbag that matched hers. If she was Regina George then that was definitely Gretchen Wieners.To your disappointment, you watched as a very familiar back approached them. Kim Taehyung. Of fucking course he hanged out with that type of crowd.

The fact that you had to walk passed them to get to your class seemed like a form of torture. You wish the earth would just open in two, and shallow you in. You felt your heart beat faster and faster, and you tried to move quickly to avoid them like they were a bunch of hyenas and you were a sheep whose survival instincts had kicked in. As if things couldn’t get any worse, just when you were about to surpass them, thinking you’ve succeeded in staying invisible and out of Taehyung’s sight, you hear a male voice calling your name

“Y/n!! Surprised you actually showed up. Hope this sight lasts” Jungkook’s voice made a bunch of slurs rush to your mind.

You hated the fact that your gaze immediately met Taehyung’s, as if it was reaching out to him, or even worse, searching for him. He stood there, simply wearing gray nike sweatpants and a white Celine t-shirt, yet you swear he looked a hundred times better than any model you’ve ever seen. He was larger than life in this hallway. Or maybe, this hall was just small? No, it looked like a normal-sized hallway. Ugh, get a grip.

“Hoped you’d chicken out last minute” Taehyung’s indifferent voice ran down your spine, with a strange thrill following in its wake. You’d never admit it, but you had strangely longed for the the alluring feeling his voice gave you.

“Glad that my presence made all of you so excited” you scoffed

“Excited is kind of overselling it, don’t you think?”Taehyung answered almost immediately.

“I’d argue differently” You gave him a look that conveyed;you were definitely excited when you went down on me the other night, Kim Taehyung.

The blonde girl pursed her lips in annoyance when all of the attention had shifted from her to you “Excuse me, who even are you?” She regarded you like someone would watch Animal Planet—like you were another species and possibly dull entertainment.

“I really need to get to class-” You could feel blood rushing to your cheeks when Jungkook’s elbow rested on your shoulder out of the blue.

All these years had passed since the last time you were this close to Jeon Jungkook, however his aura had remained the same. Cold, alarming yet somehow attractive. You caught a glimpse of Taehyung’s eyebrow raising slightly. Almost as if he was jealous “She’s Y/N” Jungkook said “The outsider”

The girl’s face light up in surprise, like she had just met someone from a different planet “Incredible” A judgmental eye look traveled carefully from top to bottom. Your insides were flaming in anger, what was she looking at? “Never seen one so up close before. You’re quite the talk these days.” A condescending smile painted her rich blonde girl face. “I mean an outsider!. In Hashfield? It’s wild”

You swallowed your pride knowing that arguing with these types of girls would only do you harm. You took one last look at Taehyung but the minute your eyes locked he turned his head to the side, as if he was embarrassed to even look at you.

Strange. You’ve never seen him like this before.

“As I was saying, I really need to get to class.” Your tone cold and indifferent, completely masking the wide range of emotions you were experiencing all at once.

•••

You never really understood the way that some people romanticized university life.

In movies and television shows, it’s all soft acoustic indie music playing over the image of some girl reading in a library, and an attractive mysterious guy gazing at her from afar, time seemed to have almost stopped as he was slowly falling in love with her.

Reality was far less idyllic.

Studying at the library was a battle between you and your attention span, the constant whispers exchanged between two annoying friends that weren’t aiding your situation at all, and the long ass paragraphs that became intelligible after four sentences, so you had to restart again from the beginning a few times before you read through the whole thing—still not understanding half of it nonetheless.

After what seemed like an hour of struggling to comprehend the difference between salve and salvete you realized Latin would probably be a bit more difficult than you had initially expected. You got up and paced towards one of the many enormous bookshelves to grab a book called “The modern guide to the not so modern Latin” this should help, you thought.

“You going to stand there and stare at that book all day, or are you going to move? Pretty sure just looking at it won’t win you any points anyway” the smooth, low, familiar voice that left Taehyung’s downturned mouth caught you off guard. You immediately jerked your head up to face him. Messy dark curls fell in his eyes accompanied with unexpectedly delicate features and cold, somewhat impatient gaze.

You blinked at him blankly, your stomach dipped like a tilt-a-whirl. You were finally alone with him for the first time after that night, and just as the smell of freshly baked sweet potatoes with turkey brought you back to a Christmas dinner with your mom and aunt, his cologne brought you back to when he was all over you, kissing your neck. “Pretty sure you’re not getting any extra points for being a pain in the ass either, but hey, look at you” you replied quickly, finding your tongue and only narrowly fighting back the annoyance that threatened to seep into your tone.

He replied by simply curling his lips up slightly, almost as if he was amused by your response. His eyes flickered up to the bookshelf as he peeled his attention from you, probably scanning for some kind of book ad you took a moment to admire his sharp jawline. When he’d finally spotted it, he took a step forward and as if you were the same poles of a magnet, you took one back. He chuckled at your obvious try to avoid him and extended his right hand to grab a book that was titled “Everything and nothing about the history of religion”

“Didn’t have you for a guy that would read this stuff, thought you said you lost God a long time ago”

You watched as he quirked a dark eyebrow “Guess you haven’t forgotten everything about me” He slipped one hand into his pocket as his gaze fell down your body “You know, there’s a lot of time to read in here, and I’ve read it all” he sighted “Talmud, Torah, Quran, Tae Te Ching” he smiled at you “Buddhism, Islam, Judaism, Jainism. Figured if I was looking for God, I should look everywhere.” He made a pause “Came out of that an atheist” he shrugged his shoulders

“Bet that’s a story” you said, gesturing to the book he was holding

“It is and it isn’t. I’m just in the middle of a project right now, besides, history behind religion was always more fascinating to me than the religion itself”

“Oh right, well, that sounds interesting, I’ll leave you to it then” Really? You couldn’t think of a less idiotic response? He just opened up about something clearly personal and you were too awkward to keep a normal conversation flow going? Embarrassed, you took a step to go around him and completely disappear—but, before you could, something grabbed your wrist.

He grabbed your wrist.

His grip felt like a band of fire; rough, calloused fire. A cool breath of fear mixed with something boiling hot leaked into your bloodstream. He stood only a few centimeters away from you, his grip the only thing connecting the two of you.

“Just so I know, are we going to pretend that night never happened?” his deep voice reached your ears

“What?” You breathed, your train of thought lost because of the hand wrapped around your wrist. It wasn’t a hard grip, but it was heavy, firm, immovable. It made you aware of how much smaller you were, how unnerved and out of place you felt. How you couldn’t leave unless he chose to release you.

He took a step closer as he watched you with an inquisitive gaze. Your heart felt close to stopping and your skin was burning up. “Are you going to pretend my dick wasn’t inside your mouth a few days ago?” he lowered his voice and you felt like you were about to pass out.

“I don’t know, are you going to pretend you weren’t in between my legs?” You managed to say and tried to pull your wrist away but he didn’t let you go.

Your pulse fluttered when his thumb brushed your knuckles. A smile painted all over his face like he had just done something he was proud of. “You know, if you want another round, all you have to do is ask”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” You said, breathing out an annoyed sigh as you brushed a piece of hair back from your face “Stop treating me like some girl that’s obsessed with you” you tried to free yourself from his grip “Let go!”

His gaze came back to your face, and you looked at each other for a moment. His grip slipped down your wrist, palm, fingers. The rough pads of his fingertips brushed your softer ones, and made your heart skip a beat. “I don't regret a single second I've spent with you, do you?”

What the hell? That was the last thing you expected to hear from his mouth and you didn’t know how you were supposed to respond. “Is this one of your sick jokes? Pretending to mean all these things when in reality all you want to see is how l’ll react? Because I’m tired of playing this game Taehyung, not this time, not with you.”

“No games” he pulled you even closer to his body “can’t you just listen to me?”

“I would if you talked to me. Do you know why I always need to have my guard up when it comes to you? Don’t you remember how embarrassed I was when you played that whole prank with Jungkook?” You pushed him away “Asshole, what makes you think it’s ok to play with people’s feelings like that?”

Two years ago. Jungkook was the only person you’d talk to, he was kind and seemed to like everything you did. The day after you’d confessed your feelings for him, you found out that the whole thing, Jungkook hanging out with you and pretending to like you, was a whole show Taehyung had put up. He’d made Jungkook do it. How dare he play with someone’s heart like that? What if all this was set up by him as well? You could never be too sure with him.

“Y/n, about that-“

“No. I’m done with you and your excuses. Just leave me alone” You cut him off “That night, I was drunk, and horny, and out of my head. Was it your dick I sucked? Sorry, can’t seem to remember that well, my memory is quite foggy” scorn laced your tone. You were done with him this time, you felt your blood boiling just by looking at him—and not in a good way.

“y/n come on-“

“You know, I really think that alcohol isn’t good or bad. But the version that can come out of me when I have enough to drink…yeah, she is bad. She’s careless and selfish and does things that I would never do sober.” Your tone monotonous, and your heart heavy as you know deep down that what you’re saying isn’t necessarily the truth. But you have to find a way in order to get away from Taehyung, he is bad for you, and you’re scared this whole thing is just another prank he carefully set up for you to fall in. But you knew better this time. “There is…a saboteur inside of me. she did everything that night, got it? And she left me to deal with the consequences of her actions.”

Taehyung pushed you with his body against a bookshelf. His right hand resting next to your head while you tried your best to control your breathing “You’re seriously going to pretend you didn’t love the way my tongue licked every inch of your skin?” His face centimeters away from yours as he stared at you dead in the eyes “The way you moaned my name?” He brought his right knee slightly up, just enough to push against your heat, providing the right amount of pressure to make your tummy tense up. How did he manage to have control over you yet once more? “The way you begged to eat my cum?” he breathed

“Stop…” your tone not very convincing, as you clearly didn’t want him to stop what he was doing. His mere knee was making you wetter than any other man ever did. And you hated him for that, you hated him for being the only one that made sucking someone’s dick enjoyable, so much you’d think about it every single night before you went to bed.

But love and hate seem to have an interesting relationship inside your head.

“Why are you putting on this whole show, when you feel the same things I do?” He placed his lips on the side of your neck, giving it a small and gentle kiss before facing you again “you smell amazing, you know that?”

The impact of his stare found a way to touch your skin. Again, a thing only he could do. The memory of him naked and exposed played on a loop, intense and hot, in your head. Just so you didn’t look like an intimidated little girl, you held his gaze for a breathless second.

Feel the same things I do?

What the hell did he mean by that? He wasn’t suggesting he actually viewed that night as something more than a meaningless hook up, was he? “I don’t have time for this, I need to get back to studying-“

“Studying, yeah” he jerked his head slightly backwards and sighted, and you couldn’t help but stare at his prominent Adam’s apple as it slowly moved. “Feels like I’m talking to a fucking wall sometimes” he took a step back

“I thought you loved walls” you smirked and distanced yourself from him “Next time, maybe don’t ghost me” you said with an indifferent voice, and maybe for a split second you wanted him to stop you one more time, grab you by your wrist and pull you in for a kiss, you closed your eyes and painted that picture in your head. But he never did.

It was for the best. Kim Taehyung was bad news, you knew how he treated girls, made them feel special and unique until he decided he was done with them. You were not going to allow yourself to fall for his little scheme. You caught a glimpse of his eyes, it was almost as if he was annoyed by you, as if you were the one who acted like a pretentious dick all the time.

You hated mornings

You couldn’t possibly describe how much.

Which was weird, considering dawn was your favorite part of the day, but the cold and empty feeling that you got when you first open your eyes is cruel and torturing. No matter how much you’d sleep, you would always feel tired when waking up.

Another reason why you hated mornings was because you had to get ready for Hashfield college. You had to find the right clothes and fix your hair and makeup. Not necessarily because you wanted to fit in but because that would make your day much easier. And it sounds dumb, but that was the case and you had to live with it.

There’s one thing you enjoyed about your dull mornings though, and that was the daily morning gossip call with Mina. She’d tell you everything that had happened last night and it would always make you even more jealous for the fact that you didn’t apply to a normal University outside of town instead of Hashfield. You could feel Mina’s excited voice. She was free. And you envied that.

“Ugh one thing I miss about Outfield is the coffee man, there’s just no competition”

“Uhh yeah sounds awful Mina you wanna switch places with me? Life sucks but at least coffee is bomb so I’d say it’s worth it right?”

Mina chuckled “I'll ignore your usual morning chipper and tell you all about the date I had last night”

You were always thankful for the distraction Mina provided every morning “I’m all ears”

“Okay, so” you could basically hear her smile through the phone “ "I was at the bar the other night and ran into this guy, his name's Beck, and we immediately hit it off, We talked for like, two hours afterwards, and he asked for my number. Few days ago he called and asked if I wanted to go out with him, and I was like hell yeah let's tear up the town. Guy picks me up at my apartment in this sleek ass car, and takes me out to this fancy pants restaurant, letting me order whatever I wanted, I mean this dude is loaded. Eventually I ask him what he does for a living, since he's got cash falling from the fuckin' sky. Apparently he works for the fucking Kim family? Isn’t it crazy how small the world is?”

“The Kim family!?” You repeated, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, the Kim business was booming the last decade, Taehyung’s father might be a shitty person but he is an awesome businessman.

“Y/n… you wanna know what’s even crazier?”

“Well I can’t say no now, can I?”

There was a small pause before Mina spoke again “He told me Kim Taehyung is going to be engaged soon.”

Words wouldn’t come out of your mouth.

You knew insiders were engaged early, basically, their parents wanted to secure business merges by having their kids engaged. It did good for business and insiders didn’t want to get married to outsiders in the first place, so it worked.

But Kim Taehyung? For some reason, you always thought he’d be a different case. He was known for his recklessness and not completely adhering to the rules inside the walls. He’d sleep with a lot of women, insiders and outsiders. He didn’t care about the gossip and he certainly didn’t care about what his daddy would say.

So yeah, in a way, hearing these news shocked you in more ways than one. “Are you sure? How would he know?”

“Talks around the office. You know how these things go y/n, if daddy says it then it’s law”

You hated mornings.

Perhaps, in hindsight, the fifth drink had been a mistake.

He isn't drunk, maybe tipsy, he hates to admit that he has grown a tolerance for alcohol. These many drinks into the evening, Taehyung’s short term memory wasn't up to its usual standards. Standing in the door of the bathroom, Taehyung thinks, 'Why am I in here?' It takes at least five seconds before he remembers that he wanted to pee , he's had five drinks and three glasses of water, and things are beginning to get urgent.

“Come ooooon we only have one fucking bathroom in this whole place” he listened to Jungkook’s stammering voice from the door. They had the same amount of alcohol but Jungkook was having a rougher time than him. Considering he apparently forgot there are two more restrooms downstairs.

Jerking his head back, letting his curls fall down, Taehyung thinks of you.

He wasn’t going to, he made a promise to himself to flick away this attraction he seemed to have for you. It wasn’t doing him any good and he knew things with you should remain platonic for your sake. He wasn’t a good guy, and he liked you enough as a person to keep a disntace before fucking everything up—like always.

Was it a week ago? He recalls that’s the last time he talked to you, in the library. Fuck, he could still smell your perfume in his nose as if you were there with him.

But you weren’t.

You were in that other party with Seokjin and Zed down at Clair’s. Taehyung wouldn’t step foot anywhere near Clair’s house, she was crazy for him and things hadn’t ended up the way she wanted so she made sure to make Taehyung’s life a living nightmare instead.

But right now, all Taehyung was thinking about was how much he wanted to punch the shit out of Zed. That dude was an A class asshole that wanted nothing but get his way in your pants. He knew you weren’t going to give it to him, you were smarter than half of the insiders he knew, but he couldn’t hold his worry back.

“Come ooooon dude I will fucking piss my pants”

Taehyung laughed at the sounds Jungkook was making. He finished his business and opened the door chuckling. “You know there are other bathrooms here buddy, right?”

“Whatever” Jungkook blurred before immediately letting loose of his pants. He didn’t even have the sense of mind to close the door behind him.

Jungkook was a good kid, very misunderstood by everyone. Granted, he was a massive dick to girls, but that’s just because he had his heart broken by his first love, and it’s been downhill ever since.

He was like a brother to Taehyung, he was there when Taehyung’s parents had split up, probably the darkest Taehyung had ever been. But Jungkook remained by his side through it all, and Taehyung knew he’d never meet a friend like Jungkook again.

Taehyung and Jungkook didn’t fight, ever. Except well , this one time.

They fought one time over you.

Jungkook had met you while hanging out with some weird crowds outside of the walls, and he seemed to grow a liking towards you. You had similar interests and hobbies despite the different worlds you two were living in, Taehyung had to bite the inside of his cheek every time Jungkook mentioned your name as if it had honey dripping all over it.

Taehyung loves Jungkook, but he knew he wasn’t good for you, so he decided to lie to you and spread the rumor that Jungkook liking you was a prank.

He was stupid for doing that, but he blames his young age and blinding jealousy for that. He still remembers how offended Jungkook got, but he got over the whole thing pretty quick, at least until he’d found his next victim.

Jungkook was a good kid, but he wasn’t good enough for you, no insider was, including himself.

“You’re kind of off today, Taehyung” Brianna wrapped a hand around his waist “Something on your mind?”

A lot of things he couldn’t talk about, especially with her “Nah, just tipsy I guess”

“Oh my god Bri” Tess laughed at her phone like she had just seen the funniest thing of her life “Isn’t that the new outsider girl? y/n, was her name? Was it?”

The mention of your name made Taehyung look at Tess’s phone screen. It was a video of you throwing up in a vase of flowers with the caption ‘Guess outsiders can’t handle alcohol that well’

“I give her another month before she drops out.” Brianna was as toneless as always “Why on earth would she think that mixing with Hashfield was a good idea? Outsiders are a joke, honestly”

“Why do you care, Brianna? It’s just college, who gives a fuck anyways?” Taehyung interrupted, not even bothering to mask how annoyed he was.

When Taehyung imagined what he wanted from life, getting engaged with Brianna was never on his list. It wasn’t even a thought that occurred, until his good-for-nothing ambitious father decided that the Arden family was doing massive numbers in sales. So what better way to merge businesses than to engage him to the Ice queen?

Jesus, his father was a lost case. Tae swore to himself that he’ll never go through with the deal. His plan was to finish Hashfield College as fast as possible and travel around the world, get far away from the fucking wall.

Brianna scoffed, as if she had just heard the most ridiculous thing in her damn life. “just College?” She eyed him “Taehyung, it’s Hashfield”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes so fucking much he thought he saw his brain for a second. People like Brianna were not to be reasoned with. “Me and Jungkook are heading to the after party.”

“The after party? I think you’ve had enough to drink already” She lectured him as if she was his goddamn mother, she wasn’t.

“Didn’t know thinking was one of your abilities, you keep surprising me” His tone was rougher than usual but he didn’t really care. Plus the O shaped face she just made was the most amusing thing she’d done all day today. “Cmon Jungkook, let’s go”

•••

If you could get an image stuck in your head forever, it would be Taehyung’s face when he saw you walking out of the bathroom giggling with Zed, heading to find the others downstairs.

Of course, nothing had happened with Zed, he just wanted some help throwing all that tequila out of his system because he drunk a little more than he could handle, which was not much to begin with.

But Kim Taehyung’s expression was painted in your mind. Almost as if he was ready to punch Zed in the face.

Whatever.

What was he doing here anyway? Last you heard, he was at some fancy party with his girlfriend—or should you say fiancé, Brianna.

You don’t remember the last time you actually locked eyes with him since that run-in at the library. During lectures, you’d pretend he wasn’t there, but that only made it worse because you ended up constantly thinking about him. His mere presence was a constant burden. Kim Taehyung was a demon, or the devil himself.

The ninth circle of hell was not in some deep bowel under the earth, it was right here, in front of Clair’s Olympic sized swimming pool. Taehyung removed his shirt and dived in with a couple girls following him soon after. His hair wet and all over the place, locks falling loosely in his eyes, his body shiny under the moonlight and that fucking smirk all over his face. How could a man look this attractive?

“Fucking hell” you hear Celine basically moan.

Yeah, everyone was starring at the half-naked prince of Hashfield. Including you, and he noticed. You hate that he caught you looking

You quickly averted your eyes back to your phone, you didn’t want to give Taehyung the satisfaction of starring at him. Especially now, that he was acting like he had you down already.

“Fuck he’s hot” Nessa’s mouth had more water than the pool itself.

“I know right?” Jess exhaled deeply “Imagine fucking that”

Imagine fucking that

You cursed all sorts in your brain. Of course everyone wanted him. What’s not to like? A mysterious bad boy image, money, the fame of half the world, and soon to be C.E.O of the Kim cooperation. He was THE shit, and the worst part about it;he knew it.

The way he’d glance at all the girls that were eyeing him up and down, he felt the stares and he was feeding off of them.

“Jess your jaw is hitting the ground” Jin teased and in response he got a slap on the shoulder.

Your eyes jumped back at the pool, only to catch Taehyung starring back at you, his eyebrow cocked up, his expression was like an invitation, a dirty one. He watched as you took a sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact for a split second. This had been the longest you had starred at him. His eyes pierced through your soul, and you burned so much that no amount of ice could cool you down.

The devil.

“What do you think about him? Kim Taehyung” Zed bumped your shoulder resulting in that eye contact to break.

“I don’t know. . . Arrogant dick sounds like a nice summary” you faked a smile.

Arrogant dick was one way to describe him, among other things you wouldn’t say out loud, ever.

Zed chuckled at that. “Yeah, I don’t like the dude much either. He’s too lost in his own little fantasy world his good daddy built for him”

Wow, ironic much? Considering that was the case for most people around them, including him.

“It’s not his fault his daddy got money” Defending Tae was not your intention, but that statement was true. Sure, his father was this Hashfield King everyone admired yet feared, but it wasn’t Taehyung’s fault he was born into his family.

“I guess…”

He guesses. As if Zed wasn’t a nepotism baby. Living in the shadow of his family’s wealth. Probably marrying another woman that did the same.

•••

If it was one thing you enjoyed doing in those good-for-nothing outsider parties, it was to stroll around the huge mansions they were held in.

So many rooms that looked more like museums or modern art galleries that no one took an interest in because they were too busy getting fucked up by the jacuzzi or had no taste for such things to begin with.

Your eyes caught an enormous half opened wooden door with golden details on the side. You enter the room to find out it was an office. The place was a perfect square with a blue, stylish couch, a mahogany desk with a couple chairs in front of it, a flat-screen TV, and a minibar.

The walls were concrete, but with the gold and blue oriental rug and nothing but one piece of artwork on the wall, the room was somehow warm and comfortable.

You studied the painting that sat behind a shiny piece of glass. Pastel colors and bold yet refined sweeps of a brush. You weren’t much of an artistic person like your mother, but you recognized the work. You’d watched a documentary about the downfall of modern art. That what we consider art today is a poor example of the talent and heart of art in the past.

“Got lost trying to find the bathroom again?” Taehyung’s voice made goosebumps run down your back.

How did you two always manage to end up in the same places? Manage to read the same books, enjoy the same movies, like the same music? “Stalker alert”

You turned around and met his face. A thick atmosphere hung in the air. “Don’t flatter yourself” he scoffed “I’m impressed that leach Zed isn’t here with you, I thought you two were a package deal” He downed his drink and paced around the room, his attention moving from your eyes to the painting behind you.

“I could say the same thing about you and Cruella de Vil”

He laughed at that. A soft laugh, the kind that could melt your heart. “I can’t tolerate Brianna for more than an hour honestly”

“You’re not that tolerable yourself either”

Taehyung remained silent. His gaze fixed on the only painting in the room. And all you wanted to do was touch him just to make sure he was actually there, and you weren’t dreaming.

You should’ve gotten out of that room the minute he got there. He was trouble, and it was best to stay away from him, but for some fucking reason you found yourself glued there, gazing at him as if he was god himself.

“The Cliff Walk at Pourville” he suddenly broke the silence.

“Didn’t take you for a guy who would have a soft spot for Monet”

He turned his head, his dark eyes found yours and for a moment you felt your head spinning. “My mama was a fan” Your stomach warmed at the deep way mama rolled off his lips. “She had good taste” He laughed quietly. A bitter note showed through, and he wiped his amusement away with a palm like he’d just realized what he’d done. “You know why she liked about The Cliff Walk at Pourville so fucking much?” He clicked his tongue “It looks like the beach surrounding the wall. She said if she could paint freedom, it would look like that” he tapped the painting with his finger sort of aggressively. “And now she is free and I’m left alone in this fucking cliff”

Was that anger in his tone? Or maybe disappointment…? You figure it was a cocktail of the two. For some reason, your heart broke. You knew how much he loved his mum, you haven’t heard any news about her. Kim Taehyung’s father was a mean and cruel man, but how cold does a mother have to be to leave behind her only son like that?

“Don’t you like it here?”

His eyes wondered around the room, almost as if they were avoiding you “I don’t know…I mean it’s Hashfield right? I should be on my knees thanking the fucking God that I get to live inside the wall.” He breathed “The Damn wall”

“I can’t figure you out. I thought you enjoyed all of this…”

His drunk gaze found yours.

And you swear you lost sensation in your legs. He was a statue, something out of this century, maybe he was a reincarnation of Achilles. Or maybe he was not human.

His lips were slightly apart and his eyes were almost sparkly under the light. He smiled and finished what was left of his drink “I’m afraid you will never figure me out”

You rolled your eyes. Even drunk and out of his head he remained stubborn and an annoying know-it-all. “Why not?” You returned the smile, weirdly amused by the fact that his nose had turned slightly red from all that booze.

“I’m a paradox” His eyes tried to fix on you for a minute but soon flattered “I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad. I’m lazy, yet ambitious. I don’t like myself but I also love who I am.” He took a long breath “I pretend I don’t care, when in reality I do. I crave attention, yet reject it when it comes my way. Im a conflicted contradiction. If I can’t figure myself out, there’s no way anyone else can”

At that point, every last piece of your armor disintegrated. You felt Taehyung was being genuine with you, for once. He told you something about himself. He let you inside a corner of his brain. There was no pretense, it was just you, him and the Monet painting behind you.

“You miss your mother?” A gulp in your throat, you couldn’t hold this question back.

He exhaled “Everyday”

“You know, I used to think that losing someone went hand in hand with losing a part of yourself. That losing a person close to you was like giving away a little bit of who you are every time you said goodbye. But that’s not always true. Some losses, some parting of ways, are essential for our personal growth. When we burn a bridge, we allow something new to grow from its ashes. Something that wouldn’t have gotten the chance to bloom otherwise. So most of the time loss actually goes hand in hand with a new beginning, a new chance, even if it takes us years to see the change and to realise that maybe it was for the best. With every person you lose, with everyone you willingly let go, you get to know a part of yourself that was hidden before.”

He looked at you carefully as he took the remaining steps towards you. His cologne pierced your nose and nerves played beneath your skin when instead of stopping he came closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer “You’re really something, you know that?”

You pretended this position didn’t effect you at all, but in reality your heart raced from the shock.

“Y/N..” You turned your head to look at him. your breath shallowed when you realized his lips were only inches from your own. His gaze was warm, seeing deeper beneath your skin with each second. “Why are you here?”

You frowned your brows “I just…I like snooping around these big houses, I’m not really used to them. Plus if I have to sit through one more insider small talk I will drown myself in the pool. By the way did you know this house has like six pools? how many do you even need-“

“I mean Hashfield. Why on earth would you come to this place? I know you hate it”

“You’re right” A deep breath “I never wanted to come to Hashfield. It was not this big dream everyone thinks I had.” You exhaled and took a sneak peak of the way he was looking at you. He made you feel like whatever you were about to say was of importance. And it was. “The biggest mistake I’ve ever made was thinking time didn’t exist for me. I was young and stupid and convinced time would bend to my will like reeds bend to the wind. I was going to be a high schooler forever, you know? I had no plans, no dream job, nothing. But for whatever reason, I was always good with school. My grades were always top of the class and my teachers constantly praised me. That’s when my mum recommended that I try out for Hashfield. She really believed in me. No one ever believed in me but she did.”

“You never told her you didn’t want to come here?” He asked, rightfully so.

“I kept the words that could change everything lodged under my tongue, too scared, too shy, too embarrassed to say them out loud. Because what should I tell her? That I’ll reject the greatest opportunity anyone could have? That all the hard work and support she gave me was for nothing?” You sighted “I was going to tell her, eventually, I was sure about it. I thought I could put it off for another week, at least. The week became a month. And then the acceptance letter came and it was too late…Time. I had ran out of time.”

The dim lighting made his eyes look like burnt gold. “I guess one good thing came out of that”

“What?” You asked, already knowing the answer in your head, but you wanted to hear it from him

“We met again”

“We met multiple times outside the walls before, you know”

“Yeah” a faint smile “but that was different” he made a pause “I was different”

Tension crept between the two of you, finding its way between your legs and settling there like a heavy weight. You found yourself thinking about so many things. You wanted to see what was beneath that white shirt. You wanted to know how much little effort it would take for him to hold you down. You wanted to put out this fire inside you that had been there since the last time he touched you. But then. The words escaped your mouth as if they had a mind of their own “I heard you are getting engaged”

His gaze found yours, and the gold blackened around the edges. Your pulse pirouetted to a strange dance. “You heard?” his voice darker than usual

“I’m surprised more people don’t know about it. You’re like a prince around here”

“That’s because it’s not official yet” he exhaled a deep breath “My father is in the midst of some big deal and apparently he wants me to be the seal of it.. He can go fuck himself. I’m not planning to be a pawn in his game.” The anger quickly turned into amusement as he saw your face “Why princess, you thought you had lost me forever?”

With his body pressed against yours, warming you from the inside out, the pull to lean in was a physical thing. A heavy tug, as if he was your center of gravity. You could taste his breath and feel his strong heartbeat.

How easy it would be; to bury your fingers in his hair, to run your hand along his jawline, to meet your mouth with his.

You knew it would be the best kiss you’d ever have.

But you manage to tame that urge. Almost as if the two sides inside of you were fighting and hopefully this time, reason was winning. “Will you let go of me?”

To be fair. You weren’t making much of an effort to free yourself from his grip.

“I don’t want to.”

You loved his voice and the way he said that.

What was wrong with you? “Let me go”

“You’re not very convincing”

“You’re a dick”

“You always say that”

“Cause it’s true”

“Well I guess I’m a dick with a very kissable mouth then”

You cringed at the memory of you admitting he has a kissable mouth. It was true, but he didn’t need to know that. “Remove your hands Kim Taehyung”

Just when he was about to open his mouth and say something -probably very annoying- his phone rang.

“You should take that, maybe it’s your fiancé”

He raised his eyebrow in annoyance and checked his phone. The name on the screen wrote ‘Jungkook’ and you felt your throat dry up from the memories that hit you.

Kim Taehyung was not a good person to you, why were you in his arms?

“It better be important Jungkook” he answered his phone.

KIM TAEHYUNG P.O.V

“Look man, I-I didn’t do it okay? I mean-I mean I did it’s just- I had a lot to drink and Jimin was teasing me, saying I was a pussy and too scared to do it”

He closed his eyes and exhaled.

This couldn’t be good.

“What happened Jungkook. Fucking spill it”

He stared as you reached for your phone in your back pocket. It had been vibrating for a while. Who was texting you so impatiently? Was it Zed? Seokjin?

“I told Zed about the bet. I told him that we made a bet and you won, that you’d slept with y/n. Look man I’m sorry I-“

Your expression turned cold when you read the text messages on your screen. “What the fuck!?” You yelled as you pushed your self away from him. Your eyes slowly turning up, meeting his own. He could tell whatever you read probably broke your heart right there and then

He had fucked up. Big time.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kim Taehyung?”

Jungkook was continuing his rumble making a half assed apology when Taehyung hangs up the phone. Trying to calm you down “Y/n I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“I knew it…” Your expression was empty, almost cold, Taehyung had never seen you like this before. You were always bright and warm. You were the only person he felt comfortable around, but right now… he could barely look at you in the eyes. “I can’t believe I trusted you. Kim Taehyung. A fucking bet?” You basically growled “Over who gets to fuck me? You truly are your father’s son.” He could taste the bitterness out your mouth when you spat that.

“Y/n… I can explain… please” He needed to explain to you…what? That you were lovely and smart and better than anything he deserved? That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for you?. That without meaning to, he’d begun to lean on you, to look for you, to need you near.?

Would you even believe him if he did tell you that? He thinks not. And he deserves the way you’re looking at him right now. Like he was garbage, because maybe, he truly is his father’s son. “I’m sorry… you can’t imagine how sorry I am y/n…”

It didn’t matter how much he begged for forgiveness, that look in your eyes told him you were done with him for good. For every step he took toward you, you took two steps back. Every time he thought he’d made some sort of progress, that he’d finally gotten somewhat closer to you, you slipped away again, like a shadow, like the wind, like a ray of light, simply refusing to be captured.

To be continued. . .

taglist:

@nikkiordonez12 @travelleratheart101 @chr1sht @theaufanartist @tetesland @world-moon @ratedbangtann @chimchoom @pnkoo @taehyungedd @turnthepageandbeburnt @glitteryouid @jkbangtan7

Sorry for taking this long, cheers! Happy new year

[lawomi]

From the Start ch4 - Trans Trafalgar Law x AFAB Mink Reader

Chapter 4 - The Wolf at Sea

You encounter Law during your first night on the Tang. Law reveals to you a side you didn't expect and your feelings for him deepen. Still, as days pass, you begin bonding with everyone else, causing an unintentional rift between you.

MINORS DNI

I created a Wattpad that includes some art from me. Not too much right now, but eventually I might update with more than just the cover lol. Arts been tough for me lately.

Chapter CWs: Nonconsensual touching, jealousy, possessiveness. Voyerism? Sort of.

The next day, you groggily get out of bed, still adjusting to the change in sleep schedule. Moving down from your bed, you see Ikkaku and Robin are still asleep. It must be early, you thought. Walking towards the window, you realize all that could be seen was pitch black ocean. Hair rising, iris shrinking, chills running rampant, you recall the Polar Tang is submerged. How deep? Trying to catch even a sliver of light from the moon, but nothing. You shakily step away from the unknown, moving into the room towards the door. Your night vision worked just fine within the Tang, surely getting out of this claustrophobic room would help. Opening the heavy bolted door you glance down the hall before closing it behind you. Small lanterns lit the walls, helping your vision further.

Your keen ears caught the sounds of not only the cruising motor, but two of the Heart Pirates talking directly above. They were likely steering and keeping watch. Instantly, you feel more at ease, although you were still queasy. The floor still felt as though it would shift under you as you slowly walked down the hall towards a particularly bright light coming from under a door. Thinking back, you recalled the Heart Pirates telling you about their captain.

“The captain? Oh, he loves coffee and onigiri. Despite being a doctor, his diet is dirt poor,” Shachi had laughed. “When we set out to sea food was scarce and once we had a cook, it became easier, but his diet never quite returned to what it was while we lived with Wolf.”

Wolf, you smile, recalling Law had passively mentioned him, too.

“Beside his diet, he can’t catch a wink of sleep, either,” Penguin pitched in to the conversation as though he were Shachi’s twin. “He never sleeps when we do, especially when he has a lot of work to do. We turn in our findings to him each night about the Tang’s condition, plus those monthly exams are tough to get through. He always has a book he’s recording his important findings in and makes sure to study the books he collects along our journey.”

That’s a lot, you think to yourself. He must be stressed out often with so many things to keep track of. Yet he still manages to be a captain, waking early in the morning to instruct them, doesn’t he?

“Oh, yeah,” Bepo laughed brightly, always so happy to gush about his captain, “He gets up early to check how we all slept and to make sure we eat breakfast. He worries about us and he makes sure we don’t overwork ourselves. Not so much himself, though.”

He's kind, Isn’t he? You muse, thinking back to the articles you read describing how callous and calculated a person he was. Yet, the crew had said he would help people – for a fee – island to island. He was keen on studying any disease he came across in hopes of saving people. In the end, the poorest people were treated first and for free. Your heart couldn't help but beat faster, your mind focusing on him as you walked. A sensitive man despite his cold, closed off exterior. He was handsome, he was cool, he was gentle, he was strong. Above all, he loved others. Oh, no. This crush is worse than I thought.

As you reach a conclusion to your thoughts, you reach the room with the light peeking through. You press your ear to the door, assuming you wouldn’t hear much anyway save for the tapping of a pencil. Suddenly, your blood rushes as a blue aura encases the area around and beyond you.

“Shambles!” You catch his voice, but instantly you’re standing in his room. “What are you doing?” Law shrilled. You cover your face, hiding your embarrassment behind your paws. It didn’t help you hadn’t dressed, even if in mink form it was difficult to see the details.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to spy. I’m sorry, sir…”

Clearing his throat, Law stood from his desk chair. “There isn’t hiding much from me on this ship.” He walked towards you with purpose. You didn’t look, too ashamed to remove your hands. He wrapped his hands around your wrists, then pulled your hands from your face. Your snout tilts away, waiting for him to yell. “Wolf mink-ya, I’m not angry,” his voice had softened significantly. He reached up and pet your ear, gently scratching behind it thru your hair. Concentrating on the sensation you try to steady your breathing.

Your eyes finally look up to meet his. He looked very tired, his eye bags more prominent than usual, but his eyebrows were knit together in worry. You finally smile and shake your head, paw spread over his that pressed into your hair. “I’m okay,” you murmur, “I can see in the dark, but when I looked out the window there was no light. I know many areas of the sea are empty, but it scared me anyway.”

Law nodded, “The Polar Tang is a unique experience even for senior pirates. The ocean is one of man’s biggest fears,” his inked hand made its way down now that you had let it go. He pet the fur along your shoulders, arms, down to your paw. He held it as he did your human hands, rubbing circles into your knuckles. His long digits curled to feel the palm of your paw, curious to examine your paw pads that lined them. “Your paws are different than Bepo’s,” he smiled warmly, “They’re just as soft, though.” A blush once again spreads across your face as his other hand touched the rolls of your belly, pleasure bloomed along each squeeze. Slowly, the hand moved up to your sternum. “Did you feel all that?” he asked smoothly.

“Yes,” you felt ashamed saying so. Somehow, this interaction made you feel very strange. You backed up enough to remove his hand from between your breasts.

“Oh,” Law sighed, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t let myself get curious without your consent like that… I wanted to know if you had more than just the two, that’s all. Not to mention, I’m lacking sleep myself.”

“You assumed I wanted your attention regardless if you asked,” you said softly, still allowing him to hold your paw. “That was rude, but, it is a little true…” you grin sheepishly at him. “I didn’t expect you to touch me when I look like this.”

“You’re still Y/N-ya, aren’t you?” He teased, a duchenne smile causing the rooms light to dance along his iris’. “If anything, this is what you originally look like. It would be ridiculous to not think you as a whole person unless you’re human.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. He was being so honest, you weren’t sure what to make of it. Did he… “Are we just friends?” You ask softly.

“Yes,” he scowled instantly. He let go of your paw and turned away towards his desk. “I don’t mean to confuse you,” he muttered as he sat down.

“It’s okay,” your heart was aching, but it didn’t matter. You walk forward and sit in his guest chair. “Can I accompany you?”

“…,” he stared at you a moment, looked down at his paperwork and sighed. “You’re not to do this again,” he scolded, “You shouldn’t be wandering the halls at night, let alone coming to my office. You can’t stay long, I don’t want the others thinking anything of it.”

You nod, “I will go in five, sir,” you smirk and watch him focus on his paperwork. “You might want to teleport me to the room, though… I am only in my underwear,” you teased, giggling.

He looked you over quickly and nodded, a blush painting his cheeks. “I’m exhausted, but you’re right.”

“In the meantime, you can do whatever you like,” you offer, a sly smirk on your lips.

Law scoffed, “Bad dog,” he teased right back. “I always do as I like,” he rolled his eyes, “and I like organized paperwork.” You laugh, earning a small smile in return.

A long moment of silence passed. You had crossed your arms and rested your head, slowly beginning to drift again before you spotted a book on the desk with no title on the side. Curious, you reach over to check it. Law doesn’t seem to notice, busy taking notes as you open the book. The book was hand written, the first page titled *Autobiography; 13-16*. Turning to the second page where the writing starts, you realize it’s in first person. As you read, you take note that the protagonist of this book lost someone and that they were walking through snow. Law’s slender fingers interrupt you, taking the book away from you.

“You didn’t ask to read that,” his acid tongue was telling, the book was personal to him.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur sleepily. “You lost someone at 13?”

“Yes, Cora-san, my savior.”

“Savior?” You tilt your head, “That’s a big title. I’m glad he saved you.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, “I still haven’t killed his murderer, Doflamingo.”

“Isn’t he in prison?” You recalled the Straw Hats mentioning it during the banquet at the Guardian’s District of Zou.

“Yes, after Mugiwara-ya defeated him,” he seemed okay with this, his demeanor still calm.

“How kind of him. But not quite satisfying for you, hm?” Your eyes brighten a little bit, the conversation shaking you of your sleep.

“No,” Law gripped his pen tightly. “I want his face caved in,” he growled, “but I refuse to kill like that anyway. Cora-san wouldn’t have wanted that. I just can’t stand seeing Cora’s face on that man’s torso.”

“Maybe someday I can help you with that,” you grin wickedly, licking across your teeth. “I enjoy battles that involve plenty of blood.”

“I see I’m not the only morbid one here,” he chuckled darkly, then shook his head. “That’s not how we do things, I’m afraid. He can rot slowly in that prison, unable to escape, watching the world change while he’s helplessly chained. Thank you, though.” He looked back at his work again. Suddenly, tapping the little bear decoration on the end of the pen against the table thoughtfully, he looked back at you. “I suppose you can read the book, if you want.”

You sat up now, surprised, elated. It didn’t feel like a small gesture, surely this was practically a diary to him, right?

“Don’t get too excited,” Law furrowed his eyebrows, “Make sure no one sees you with it and don’t go around talking about it, alright? Only Bepo, Shachi and Penguin have read that.”

“W-why are you letting me, then? Aren’t they your closest friends?”

He looked down and nervously tapped his pen again. “Well, I’ve seen between your legs. That was already personal enough, right?”

A pause.

“Law, you’re a doctor,” you chortle, cupping your nose with your paw.

“Tch. Not for doctor reasons, I didn’t,” a sly grin spread across his face, he rested his cheek on his wrist. Maybe he liked that you called him Law. He averted his gaze and leaned back, pressing his lips together. “You should go to bed now. I’ll do the same.” You frown, disappointed, but nod in response. He can’t help but laugh at you, “There’s no use begging. I am not risking the crew knowing we ever had anything between us. It was meant to have been a one time thing…” he seemed to realize too late it may hurt you to say that. But it is the truth, he thought.

“Yeah,” you agree, although a twinge of pain pokes at your lungs. “I’m the one who wanted to join and I knew there was a chance of a no. I begged you that night knowing it could be our last meeting. I know,” you let out a slow sigh.

Law nodded thoughtfully, thinking hard about what to say. Finally, though, as the silence stretched he said, “Room,” and “I’ll see you later, Omi-ya,” he chuckled, “Remember: Don’t do this again.” Although he had been serious before, he seemed playful this time. “Shambles.” Lifting his fingers, he teleports you and the book back to your bunk. You were stunned a moment, allowing yourself to absorb that you were now sitting at the edge of the bed. You see the women still sleeping, so you lie down - think about this dark broody man over and over - until you too fell asleep again.

You instinctively slap whatever it was that was tapping your face, turning over deeper into the bed. A tug on your wolf ear wakes you completely, you flip over in surprise to find a dismembered hand wiggling its fingers at you. Yelping in surprise you sit up quickly and see Nico Robin down below, laughing at your reaction along with Ikkaku.

“Good morning, Wolfy!” Robin chimed. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Although, I didn’t expect to see you quite so naked.”

You roll your eyes, “Lesser minks need to learn everyone has breasts.” Begrudgingly you slink your way down the bunk bed ladder. “It’s good to finally meet you properly, Ms. Nico. Instead of at a banquet, I mean,” you smile meekly at her. She reminded you of that broody man, but it was only her looks. Her personality was bright and bubbly in contrast. “May I greet you?”

“Greet me? Haven’t you already?” Robin giggled. Ikkaku whispered something to her quickly and she laughed, then nodded. “Yes, of course. You don’t need to ask me, I love affection like that.”

Canine glee filled you. You threw yourself into Robin’s arms, who caught you easily, holding you bridal style. “Garchu!!” You wrap your arms around her neck and press your face into her cheek. Her laughter filled you, your heart raced and your tail wagged enthusiastically. Ikkaku looked on with what only could be described as envy.

Robin, still holding you, walked over to set you on the couch. She used her ability to grab you a set of clothes. “Come on now,” she gently prods your cheek with a dismembered hand’s finger, “Get dressed. I do agree with you about the breasts, but in our custom you can’t be running out like that in front of men—I suppose we are pirates, but it’ll only result in a lot of blood.” You snort at her comment, got dressed, and jumped up back into her arms. She grinned at you, “I suppose I should let you keep some customs, shouldn’t I?” The three of you made your way to the galley, the others just arriving down the hall as well.

“What on earth—Oh, right! She’s a mink,” Shachi nudged Penguin with his elbow.

Penguin ignored him, but he looked troubled by the sight of you with Robin regardless. “Aren’t you supposed to be one of us?” Penguin’s arms were crossed, he was pouting as if Law had assigned him of disposing of the Tang’s waste for a month.

“Someone’s already jealous,” Ikkaku teased, flicking Penguin’s nose as she passed. Penguin chased after her to the table, his signature hat hiding his expression. Shachi followed them, losing his shit over Ikkaku’s slick move.

Robin sighed, “It’s true. If you don’t want me to steal you away, you should probably make them hold you instead,” she beamed cheekily. “How about you get yourself a seat.” Notably, the others were looking at you and Robin, finally tearing their attention from the hooligans that came in screeching. Robin was about to put you down, but stopped short. “Oh, hello, Torao!” She turned her attention to Law, who was staring at you with an odd expression. He seemed to want to forget whatever was just happening, walking forward to his seat. Robin finally places you on your feet and you obediently find your own seat beside her.

“When does Penguin get to hold you,” Shachi was mostly egging Penguin on, his attention and nudging entirely focused on his best friend.

Penguin shoved him toward the table, “Sit down!” He looked a bit pink from what you could see. They both finally sat, especially quickly thanks to Law glaring at them. There were fewer pirates than usual in the galley, indication some either had eaten earlier or avoided breakfast. You wonder what Law usually chose yourself. He looked quite tired; had he slept at all? Bepo brought the coffee pot to pour each person a cup. There was cream and the like on the table for said coffee, so you think ahead to grab what you need as he came around.

“Nico-ya,” Law yawned, “Did you sleep well?” She seemed to be the only Straw Hat besides Franky at the main table this morning.

Robin leaned against her knuckles, a warm expression pleasantly wrinkling the corners of her pretty blue eyes. “Wolfy came back to bed quite late last night,” she was clearly treating Law like a water balloon, trying to poke a hint out of him. His expression remained as stoic and neutral as ever. “Regardless, I slept quite well.” Ikkaku stifled a laugh, not wanting to cause a scene.

Law’s ever cool, piercing eyes landed on you. You sip your coffee, flattening your ears as if it’d make you less of an eyesore. “I see,” he shrugged, “I didn’t hear anything. It's not good for guests to be slinking around my submarine without a guide, though,” his eyes shift to Ikkaku. Ikkaku looked nervous now, it was her responsibility to keep watch of the guests while they were in the women’s quarters after all.

“Don’t worry, I noticed they left. It’s my fault, of course,” Robin’s flirtatious look made Law glance away. “I’ll make sure to keep Wolfy in line.”

“Tsk,” Law smirked, “I do trust you the most among the Straw Hats, Nico-ya, but you shouldn’t try to take responsibility. The crew know what their rolls are. And they know the type of punishments I like to give.”

Robin laughed, “I’m sure for not paying attention, you’d remove their head and leave it displayed in a cage, wouldn’t you?”

Law grinned, clearly appreciating her dark humor. “You’re not too far from the mark.” Ikkaku dared not look in his direction for the moment, feeling his sadistic expression burning a hole in her cheek.

You felt excitement fill you again, playfully leaning on Robin. There was something magnetic about her just as you felt for Law. Apparently, you had a type. A partial forearm and hand sprouted atop your head, scratching you behind the ear. You closed your eyes and hummed, rubbing your cheek into Robin’s shoulder in minkship.

Opening your eyes after a few moments of bliss, you see Penguin looking a tad downcast as he finished his coffee. Shachi stared in your direction, smiling gently when you met his gaze, though you couldn’t see his sly eyes behind his sunglasses. “Speaking of watching Wolfy… We haven’t had a nice mixed bath for months among the Heart Pirates. I bet Ikkaku would be overjoyed to finally join us since she’s not the center of attention no more.” Ikkaku shot him a death glare. “I recall Bepo and Hakugan mentioning one on an island coming up soon,” Shachi nudged Penguin once again, who had perked up, but remained hiding his face behind the brim and flaps of his hat.

You glance towards Law who you realize was staring quite intensely at you, though you couldn’t identify the emotions behind his gaze. “I’m sure everyone could use some socializing,” He said, averting his eyes towards a much happier Penguin. If they want to join us they can. What do you say?” he looked over at Robin who was focused on you. You lock eyes with Robin, grinning broadly and taking her hand. Law cleared his throat to grab your and Robin’s attention.

Franky raised his huge hand from the end of the table instead, “Absolutely, Torao! We’d love to. Sounds SUPER!” He had a huge smile, chuckling at his crewmates clear interest in you. “Robin sure is sweet. Always giving people the attention they deserve when they like her,” he teased you. You look over at him in surprise, a blush dusting your cheeks.

Law eyed you suspiciously, unsure what to make of your and Robin’s affection nor even of Robin’s clear interest in himself. She had flirted with him during her exam, too, but he paid her no mind. She was a respectful woman. She loves to tease people, that’s all that is, Law dismissed the idea she might actually be promiscuous. Of course, even if she was, she had every right to enjoy herself. How could a pirate judge another pirate?

Thank you, Torao. I’m fascinated by this one as well. Robin’s words echoed in his head. Come to think of it, she was an information gatherer. She could sprout an ear anywhere she pleased… He wondered if she had spied on you both during the banquet on Zou. He’d have ample chance to confront her on the island.

Several routine days passed. You had been spending much more time with Robin, openly showering her with cuddles. Ikkaku, too, but she’d get rather flustered by it. You also made sure to give Penguin some affection as he seemed depressed; a nuzzle from you seemed to give him an energy boost. Occasionally, you’d be found snuggling Shachi or anyone else you began to trust. Raizo had showed you his ninja skills and you couldn’t help but fawn. Kine’mon was rather creepy, so you kept away, but Kanjuro was okay. Meanwhile, Zoro was a particular favorite, who didn’t seem to mind your minkshipping despite having rejected plenty a mink before- he was incredibly hot, to boot. Usopp & Franky loved you and gave you bear hugs, sometimes together. Bepo tended to follow you around closely, always wanting to snuggle or show you something cool. So far, it was fun!

Law in the meantime was keeping himself busy in his office, telling the crew what needed to be done daily and gathering as much intel as he could on the Beast Pirates and Wano. Unfortunately, the retainers of Oden only had limited information on how Wano currently was. They had been away from the country for some time in search of Momonosuke. Sometimes, he would appear around the Tang and although you did try and give him an embrace or two, he was always off-putting. He did not want public affection, but even when you caught him alone he was silent and walked away. It made you nervous you’d done something wrong.

Finally, the Polar Tang docks at the next island. The Heart Pirates prepared to restock on supplies and fuel before running off to enjoy themselves. The main three of the Heart Pirates along with Robin, Usopp and Zoro kept you company as you explored the island. It was a rather large town with plenty of shops to look through.

“This is really cool,” said Penguin, having ended up beside you as the others dispersed to different shops. His hand gingerly pushed yours, his fingers occasionally grazing until you confidently took his hand. His face lit up into a cherry red, but he held your hand tightly, his other hand gripping the brim of his hat.

“I appreciate you protecting me, Penguin,” you say in a smooth, loving voice. Penguin does a little skip, nodding vigorously, but staring at the ground. You take his arm and hug it between your breasts, enjoying how he panics and makes the silliest dopey face you’d ever seen. He was so cute.

From afar, Law had come out of a pharmacy and was watching you and Penguin. He sighed gruffly, the bag on his wrist rustling when he adjusted his idling position, hands shuffling some medications he had picked up to recheck the dosages. He swore to himself whatever he felt boiling in his stomach was just him getting sick. It had nothing to do with you or all the minkshipping you were indulging in with other people. When you found him alone or tried to make advances of affection it was just anxiety towards Kaido that made him feel too nervous to your touch. He was just worried about everything, everyone, and about Mugiwara who he doubted kept a low profile against Big Mom in her own territory. He hoped that idiot would survive.

Nothing to do with jealousy. He didn’t even recognize what that felt like. All he could conclude- if he thought about it long enough- was that Robin and Penguin in particular made his skin itch when they showed special interest in you. Something about it made his skin crawl, despite these two people being people he trusted to keep you safe. So why?

He placed the medicines back in the bag, deeming them suitable for his needs, and took out his grocery list to make sure everything was checked off. There were a few more things he needed elsewhere before he would get ready for the bathhouse. He had already booked the mixed baths for his crew and guests.

“Torao!” called a familiar voice. It was Franky. “What’s up my man? I helped Ikkaku grab some equipment for the Polar Tang. I plan to help spiffy things up, aye? The Tang is SUPER sophisticated, I’m obsessed with learning how submarines work better. I could use the information to improve the Sunny Go’s Shark Submerge III!” Franky’s enthusiasm was infectious, Law found himself smiling and nodding, approving of Franky’s help.

Glancing up towards you again, Law sees from far down the road that you were now facing Penguin. A shiver ran down his spine, his eyes grew wide and teeth grit tight as you planted a kiss on Penguin’s cheek, laughing heartily as the man fell to his knees with his arms wrapped around your thighs. His cheeks rested against both your knees, you could feel the heat of his cheeks radiating through your pants. He was too cute, you could tell he was in love with you. What that meant for the both of you, you weren’t sure. To Law however, it was outrageous. Why? He didn’t know! It just was!

“You’re looking a little… hot under the collar,” Franky said to Law, grinning cheekily. “You jealous?”

“NO!” Law hissed, whirling around to stomp to the next location. Franky laughed, following him close behind.

“You can open up to me, Torao! Relationships can be tough, how many have you had?”

Law ignored him, walking into the next shop. He went in to pick up some personal wine for his office. Maybe a pack of cigarettes to relax and talk with Corazon for a while. It didn’t matter, he just needed to clear his mind.

“Hey, now.” Franky insisted, patting Law on the back, “Don’t become an alcoholic over a crush,” he joked.

“It’s not a crush,” Law corrected, leering at him.

“Right,” Franky snickered. “Hate to break it to ya, but you’re down bad.”

Law scoffed, glaring down at a bottle of vodka. “No,” he finally muttered, “I’ve never been in a relationship.”

“Oh, I see.” Franky nodded. “And we’re pirates, so that makes it tougher. Hmm…”

Law rolled his eyes, “I have more important things to worry about.”

“Sure,” Franky shrugged, “But people get lonely, y’know? Robin and I spend time together sometimes, but we aren’t official…”

“I didn’t ask,” he felt that weird clench in his gut again. He walked away, heading for the counter to pay and pick out the cigarettes. Franky, like all the Straw Hats he’s ever interacted with, insistently followed him, paying for him. He sighed, “That wasn’t necessary.”

“It’s fine, we’re friends, buddy,” Franky ruffles Law’s hair. Law groaned.

“You Straw Hats don’t get what a fucking alliance even is, huh?”

Franky laughed loudly, “We’re friends regardless.”

Law’s expression softened. He walked out with Franky. He immediately looked towards where you’d been standing, but you were gone. He bit his lower lip, wondering where Penguin had taken you. Ugh, what does it fucking matter. Her body isn’t mine or something, Law cursed himself.

Franky once again rested a hand on his back, “If you ever need to talk about it I’m around, yeah?”

Law finally redirected his gaze to his list again. “It’s just stress. Nothing more, nothing less.”

It was finally the hour to meet at the bath house. You were excited, taking Penguin’s hand and Bepo’s paw towards the bath house. Your other escorts had reunited with you, too, and followed with beaming faces. They all liked your energy, enthusiasm, and your confidence.

You all enter the bathhouse. At first, it separated by gendered locker rooms. As usual, you chose the women’s lockers as it was quieter anyway. Only Robin and Ikkaku were with you, you saw Ikkaku was looking irritated and Robin looked amused. You had a feeling you were going to walk in on perverts, but there was also Law, and Zoro who would keep them in line. You thought about those two quite a bit, a little too excited to see them on display yourself. I’m kind of a pervert myself, huh. You giggle to yourself.

The three of you headed out, Robin beside you and Ikkaku semi-hiding behind you both. The Straw Hats had already jumped into the gorgeous steaming hot spring, the rocks displayed beautifully and a small waterfall could be heard over the men chattering. They all stopped and looked at you all as the door closed. Zoro walked over to you, a towel around his waist, he had been waiting by the door.

“You all good, ladies and others?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Yes, Zoro,” Robin chimed. She took his arm affectionately. “Thank you for protecting us,” she smiled. Zoro nodded, eyes averting and a light blush touching his cheek as Robin leaned her covered breasts into his upper arm. He guided the three or you into the water, glaring at the twenty plus idiots all gathered to stare.

Penguin fluidly swam over to you, a dopey grin once again gracing his face. He looked quite different without his hat. He had a mop of black hair a bit like Law and his eyes were red, typically associated with Fishmen. You smile warmly at him, accepting an embrace. He moaned ever lightly in your ear. You laugh, holding him close with one hand in his hair.

Shachi protested, jealous he didn’t get a hug and some of his crew followed. You laughed and accepted a few more hugs, although Penguin refused to let go. Law stared from one side of the pool, his arms spread out over the edge of the bath. His face was red from the steam—or so he would say. He wanted to tell his crew to back off, but he dared not out himself like that. Zoro meanwhile was glaring at Kine’mon whom he knew made you uncomfortable. He dared him to make an advance, making Kine’mon shrink into the water from your glare. Momonosuke wasn’t with them, he stayed cooped up in the Tang as he did in Zou.

“Nico-ya,” Law called Robin, only a few steps away. She looked at him with an inviting look. Once close enough, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Beautiful tattoos, Torao.”

“Thanks,” he remained indifferent. “I wanted to ask something in private.”

“Oh? What’s that?” she leaned on the side of the pool, resting her elbows on the edge and her head on her laced fingers.

“How did it occur to you I could like that mink?”

Robin giggled. “Well, I can tell. Not necessarily that you like them, but you are attracted, aren’t you?”

Law rolled his eyes. “Sort of.”

“Do you want me to call them ov—”

“—No. I’ll talk to them eventually myself.”

“So what does it matter?” Robin tilted her head a bit.

“Then why do you seem interested in them-- in me-- in Franky or Zoro?”

“You’re very alluring and we are very similar,” she said honestly, her warm expression unchanging. “As for Franky & Zoro, that’s my personal business. I do like Wolfy, they seem fun and I feel loved in their presence. Don’t you think so?”

Law remained silent, staring at you again. Penguin had let you go and the men were all laughing, jabbing him with jokes as he had grown erect and shrunk down into the water covering his still clothed crotch. You seemed pleased with the power you had over him, your eyes sparkled with amusement. Law clenched his jaw again.

“Do you think they don’t like you?” Robin asked, now turned around and watching the scene. “I saw you had a night out with them on Zou, didn’t you?”

So she knew, Law looked back at her. “Don’t tell anyone,” his voice held a hint of acid. Robin simply nodded, unafraid.

“How nice, would you reveal what you both did?” Robin grew closer, making Law tense.

“No,” Law squinted at her. “I had another question.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t respond to mine. Do you think they don’t like you?”

He raised his forearms in irritation. “Well they seem to like everyone else!”

Robin chortled, unable to hold in how funny he was to her. “They are a mink. But your friend seems very interested. Shouldn’t you hurry?”

Law glared at her. “I…” he didn’t know how to finish that. He’d basically just admitted it to himself. “I barely know them,” he concluded, “We have no idea if we’ll survive the next island. I don’t plan to know them. I’m not like Penguin.”

“Understandable,” Robin leaned on him, causing him to tense again. “But it’s good to spend the time we have wisely, isn’t it?”

Law didn’t respond. He watched you splashing at Ikkaku and the others. It had grown noisy. Zoro argued with Shachi about touching you a certain way, Bepo joining Ikkaku to splash, betraying you entirely. Penguin made sure to back you up. Meanwhile others were doing canon balls, cheering, chatting or relaxing. Law suddenly felt a trickle of warmth run down his nose to his chin.

You stood there, having accidentally undone your towel, your breasts were on full display above the water. They all gasped and stared. You sighed, lesser minks were far too sensitive about this. Penguin had dunked himself under water, either on purpose or on accent. You still have it covering your lower bits, you peek under the water to see he was just covering his crimson face.

“Th-They’re like a work of art,” Jean Bart commented from his place beside Franky, the older men were all talking in a circle at the far end. Kine’mon had predictably lost it as did most of the others.

“Now that’s confidence! SU~PER!” Franky posed, proudly sporting his bloody nose.

Law wadded forward and stood in the way of the view, “Come with me,” he demanded, one hand covering his own bloody nose.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What are you doing, Captain?” Penguin asked quickly.

Law lifted your towel to cover you up once he wiped his blood off. “Nothing,” he sneered. “I’ll be back.”

“Hey, now. They aren’t part of your crew,” Zoro sharply remarked, coming between you both. “They aren’t a Straw Hat either, but I ain’t letting you take them to point B, capiche?”

“Well,” Law stared at him intensely, “I’m a captain. And you lot are on my ship. It’s my responsibility to care for everyone. If you have objections, take it up with whomever gave me the responsibility. It was your captain, by the way.”

You felt your excitement escalate. In response, you slink over and hop onto Law’s back like a koala, earning a yelp from Law who hadn’t expected it. Of course, you weren’t heavy to him but he was still shocked. “It’s okay, Zoro~,” you nuzzle your face into Law’s hair. “I can handle it.”

Penguin stared, his red eyes clouding a tad. His shoulders sagged after a moment, Shachi’s own red eyes landed on him and came over to comfort him. Law ignored them, walking passed Zoro even with your weight and the water exhausting fruit users. Zoro had accepted your words, but he watched on skeptically. Robin joined him, leaning on him again.

Law sighed and walked out of the bath, making sure his towel was secure and trusted you were confident with your arms around his neck, your legs hooked around his waist. You used one hand to also make sure your towel covered what you wanted. He brought you into the men’s locker, going over to his locker to fetch something.

“Are you going to keep doing that?” He asked, your breasts were hardening against his back. You blush but tighten your arms. He sighed, “I need to ask you something. It’s bothering me.” He moved to sit on a bench, using a clean towel to dry his hair. It was his turn to blush as your hands slowly felt up his chest as he moved. You bury your nose into his neck.

“What’s the question, Dr. Heart Stealer?” You tease.

“Are you like this with everyone?” he asked bluntly.

“Like what?”

“Flirtatious. Do you fuck everyone?”

“No,” you blushed fiercely, “Only if I really like them.” He dared not ask the next question, but you did it for him. “Do you like me?” you whisper.

“In a sexual context,” he emphasized, “Sure.”

“You seem a little jealous. Maybe possessive,” you grin into his neck.

He thought a moment, gazing at the ground. He shivered when your lips met his skin, kissing along his pulse point. He tilted his head away slightly, giving you more room. You bite him, making him groan.

“Quit it,” he remarked. “They can’t see those. Just, be with me,” he whispered. “Be loyal to me— on my ship.”

“No,” you bit his shoulder.

“Ngh! Why not?” He grit his teeth, gripping your hair in one hand.

“I want life long commitments,” you lick the love bite you left, “And even then, it won’t be one person. Plus, you won’t even make me a Heart Pirate.”

Law’s eyes narrowed, he felt angry and confused. “Well I don’t feel the same,” his husky voice cracked slightly, his eyes water.

“If you change your mind, talk with me,” he felt you slide off his back. He stood quickly to look at you. You smile at him, walking towards the bath again. He could see your eyes trail his body, especially around his chest.

“Wait,” he took your wrist, “Let me show you something.”

You touch his tattoos as he pulls you close, then down to where his hands fumbled. He dropped the towel. It revealed first a womb tattoo, but more importantly a vulva. His hard engorged clit barely covered by the lips and hair. You stare, quite fascinated. You can’t help but reach forward and cup his member. He stomach visibly flinched, his hips bucking into your hand involuntarily.

“I really like you,” Law echoed the words you expressed about people you wanted, “But I hate seeing you with them, too. It’s driving me insane.”

You let go of his dick. He walked closer, touching your hips with both hands, squeezing possessively. “That’s okay, jealousy is normal,” you rest your hands over his, “I want to know you, too. We can be friends with benefits, but not a commitment. You have to get used to me being with others, sir.”

He squinted at you, clearly perturbed. He wasn’t sure how to process this idea. “Right,” he muttered, pouting, “It isn’t a commitment. But I want you first,” he insisted.

You giggled, “Now?”

He glanced down, blushing. “N-no. Let’s go back to the bath.” You watch him crouch to pick up his towel, then to allow you back up onto his back. You grin ear to ear, happy he seemed to enjoy you on his back.

[writeforfandoms]

König, sensing mink has been too quiet lately and looking over at them, tripping over himself when he spies them: WHAT DO YOU HAVE???

mink, totally nonplussed, squeaking victoriously as they drag away their stolen item:

horangi, diving across the room to try and get the LIVE GRENADE they've stolen and are dragging away by the pin: *loud korean cursing* -🦐

I am just--

I have navigated away from this FOUR TIMES because every single time I broke down into wheezing laughter. EVERY. TIME.

Including this time

I have no notes. Nothing to add. Put this on my gravestone when I die laughing