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fanaticsnail · 5 months ago

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Possessive

Masterlist here

Word Count: 1,900+

Synopsis: Rob Lucci was obsessed with you the moment the inner beast caught your scent in Galley-La. Now all alone after trailing you for a month, he finally manages to catch you and make his desires known.

Themes: yandere!rob lucci x gn!reader, yandere, dub con, mentions of beast (leopard), half-shifted lucci, feral lucci, hunting, tracking, nudity mentioned (reader and lucci), kisses, confessions of love, biting, licking, marking, leaning into a little bit of monster-loving, sfw - no smut, I think hybrid au? Hybrid nature, mentions of 'mate'.

Edit: shifter Rob Lucci, not hybrid 🖤. Thank you anon!

Notes: Yandere Rob Lucci has been on my mind lately. He needed to get out.

Tag list: @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @i-am-vita @sunflowersatori @extremely-ashtridic

His eyes snapped shut as a deep shudder coursed through his body, tingles shooting sparks of ignition down his spine and up to his head. He parted his lips and inhaled a sharp, hissed breath as his canines extended, his eyes reopening and slitted pupils expanded to eclipse his irises with a feral animosity. Your sweet scent swelled his heart, his lungs ignited as his blood began to pump at the thought of the hunt recommencing.

It had been months of withholding you from his thoughts, pushing his urges for you down as he focussed on his missions and orders granted to him from Cipher Pol. After finally being granted a small reprieve between assignments, he allowed himself the luxury of beginning his pursuit of your trail once more.

He left Hattori behind at his base, truly not desiring the pigeon to witness his carnal desires overcome his usual stoic and cold nature. Never truly giving into his Zoan Devil-Fruit, he usually has the beast lingering and lurking beneath the surface. In truth, he had never truly desired to give in to the animal nature, desiring to remain cool and level headed in his ruthless brutality.

Until that one time your sweet scent shot through his nose and ignited his feral need to state a claim for another being.

Meeting you and the rest of your crew at Galley-La, he was struck by your appearance and that gentle laugh you offered the sniper, Usopp, when he recounted a tale of his youth at Syrup Village. Everything seemed to slow in motion, his heavy breathing and dilated pupils were the only sounds within the crowd as he lay struck and fixated on every movement.

He was struck dumb by your laugh, the smile held him hostage as it softly spread up your lips and painted your cheeks with your joy. It almost made him wish to fling his plans of betrayal to the wind and sink his claws and teeth into you and hold you close. His needs tugged at his heart, his instincts and animalistic nature keening and screaming at him to give in and claim you as his. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and committed your fragrance to memory.

The taste of your skin on the wind propelled him to drive harder, push his body further, and fully give in to his cravings for you as he felt his skin shift and split to make way for fur and claws. Rolling his shoulders back, the muscles compacted first before straining to enlarge with his beastial form.

His legs picked up as the wind brushed past his face with quickened pace. Each stride had his blood boiling, his heart soaring at the knowledge that you were getting closer and closer with each feral leap and spring he made. Another factor he took into consideration was ensuring you were far enough from your crew to not call for help. The scent of the Straw-Hats were no longer lingering near you, and he was desperate in wanting to claim you as his all alone.

Slowing to a soft prowl, his eyes finally met with your form. Stooping low, you filled up several cantinas of river water and placed them within a wicker basket to return to your crew. He inhaled deeply to catch your sweet scent on the wind, his purred growl exiting his lips with a lengthy exhale to process it.

Head snapping upwards, you attempt to locate the source of the guttural sound. The small twitch has Lucci’s stomach coil tightly and jaw falling slack at the sight. You were just a meek little thing. So defenseless and unprotected.

As you return to your duties of filling up the final cantina for your crew, he watches as you take a moment to look around for any danger before stripping yourself down to your undergarments and retracting your towel from the basket beneath the water containers. His breath hitches as you strip yourself bare and slip into the reeds, all exposed for him and relaxed beneath the sun.

Laying flat on your back and remaining buoyant and floating in the freshwater, he remained helpless and observant in knowing you had stretched far from his reach at this moment. His devil-fruit had claimed his ability to swim, but his need and desire for you only grew the moment your warm flesh lay bare before him.

He made himself small, lowering himself to the ground and his claws dug into the ground the longer you eluded him. If you would venture closer to the bay, he could easily capture you in his clutches and tug you away from the shore.

Lucci was a patient man, his work undercover in Galley-La for five long years was a sentiment to his persistence and perseverance. His body began to slowly rock from side to side, pacing as his muscular shoulders rolled with each crouched motion as he lay fixed on your form. Nothing could break him away from this concentration, you were the only thought occupying his mind.

The moment your hand brushes with the side of the floral riverbank, Lucci pounces. His half-shifted body springs forward, capturing you from the water and tugging you towards the ground cover of underbush. His hand finds your lips, clapping his palm over them to stifle your muffled scream.

The panic is written on your face as Lucci cages you beneath him, ensuring your legs remain well hidden in the shrubbery by tucking them beneath his thighs and wrapping his patchy tail around them. His dangerous, golden eyes beam down at you, his canines extended and his muzzle-like jowls pull back to reveal his pointed teeth to you.

Fear tainted your scent, the air tasting bitter and tart mixing with your natural sweetness the longer his beastial form pinned you beneath him. He could see in your eyes, and feel the vibrations of your whimper beneath his palm, that you expected to die at this very moment. He leaned down further, hovering his open mouth over your jugular and feeling your throat gulp back and stifle your shock.

Clamping your eyes shut, all of your thoughts are on your crew. You were foolish to assume you could ever have a moment of peace while traveling with the Straw-Hats. Thinking you could indulge in your desires for a short dip in a warm ravine, you truly had no idea that your day would end like this.

The sworn enemy of your captain, a dangerous Zoan-Fruit user taking shape in his leopard half-shifted form and caging you beneath him. His breath felt hot on your neck, and his teeth threatened to puncture the skin and claim your life as his trophy. As you prepared yourself for your final moments alive, you furrowed your brows and reopened your shocked eyes.

A coarse tongue lolled out and grazed your throat with a slow and deliberate flicker. You gulp back your shock as another intentional stripe was made against your pulse, his teeth now nuzzling you with his snout and huffing your flesh like an addictive fragrance. Your body shook in shock as he pressed more of his body against yours, his radiant heat keeping you warm as he licked off the dewed droplets of water from your skin.

The clawed hand began to caress your cheeks beneath his grip on your lips, his tongue and teeth continuing to grind against your pulse and taste your flesh. Your body responded to him by arching your back and betraying any thoughts of attacking him as he savored your flavor with a purred hum. You bit back a gasp as his teeth begin to mouth at the sensitive point beneath your ear, gently biting and marking you as you lay captured beneath him.

“Finally alone,” he purred against your skin, nuzzling his muzzle against your skin, “Finally within my clutches.” He licked a long stripe up to your chin and flicked his coarse tongue over it. You shudder, shivering as you unintentionally hide your body beneath the warmth of his larger frame. You round your eyes, looking up at his face as he hovers over your own.

His eyes hold a possessive and captivating aura within them, your breath stolen from you as his human form begins to return to his features. His eyes remain slitted and blown with desire, but his body falls back to the form you are more familiar with. Slowly removing his hand from your lips, his gaze focuses on the way they part and gasp for air beneath him. Each soft inhale had a whimpered exhale, your fear still evident in your face as his bare skin warms your own beneath him.

“If you are going to kill me, kill me, Rob Lucci,” you whisper, darting your eyes between his and hardening your resolve. His chest rumbles with a growling purr as he rests his elbows by your chest and slowly slots his arms beneath your shoulder blades.

“Kill you?” he whispers, hovering his lips over yours and breathing in your air, “Whatever drew you to that conclusion?” He captured your lips beneath his in an open and possessive kiss, stealing a moan from you as he pressed his body flush with yours. The scrape from his cropped beard over your chin tickled against your flesh as he parted his lips and hummed into yours.

Blinking back your shock, you apprehensively hook your arms over his shoulders and hold him against you as you return the desperate and feverish kiss with a sweetness and timidity he was not expecting. The softer you returned his kiss, the more brutal he pressed his lips and tongue into you. If you attempted to retract from his lips, he simply arched his back down into you and pressed his entire mass flush against you.

The fact that you were both naked beneath the foliage cover had you feeling more anxious and concerned about being found. For Lucci, it felt as natural to him as sitting in the sun and enjoying it's warmth.

He enjoyed your touch so much so that it came to him like a breathy release of built up tension. His lips continued to mouth at you, his tongue caressing and grinding against yours as he claimed your desires and ignited his own desperation with each motion.

Finally pulling away from your lips, his eyes grew half-lidded and blown as he looked to the saliva connecting your parted lips to his with lust written in his blown pupils. He shuddered out a low and powerful groan as he looked to where his lips, tongue and teeth marked over your neck while in his beastial form.

“Mine,” he uttered darkly, slowly pressing his lips against your neck and holding them firmly against your skin, “Only mine.” You gulped, blinking back your shock as he continued to ravish you beneath the shrubbery. His lips felt desperate and warm, his voice now chirping and chittering as he happily lapped at your bruising and made them deeper in hue and rise higher in swollen texture.

The beast within him was chanting a single word alongside your name with glee, enjoying how your arms continue to hold him against you softly. Purring against you, he finally vocalized the word with a possessive growl against your skin.

“My mate,” he breathed out through his nose, lips continuing to press against your pulse as you freeze up beneath him, “All Zoan-Fruit users have one, and you?” he pulled away, hovering his face over yours with his eyes darkening, “Oh you, sweet thing.”

Nuzzling his nose against yours, he cooed and purred down at you while his eyes remained feral and possessive. Your own eyes widened as he uttered two words that would change your fate forever. The two words that had you screaming internally to flee and return to your captain, but your heart swelling and yearning to make those words true. He spoke them with such sincerity, you almost swooned at his immediacy.

“You’re mine.”

#one piece #x reader #rob lucci #lucci x reader #rob lucci x reader #yandere #one piece x reader

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flowmorepump · 3 months ago

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Propeller pumps are a specific kind of pump that are utilized in the process of performing the propeller replacement method. In contrast to the direction in which a turbine turns, the flow of fluid in an axial stream of a turbine is in the opposite direction. The capacity of a propeller pump to deliver huge volumes of water at low pressures is one of the most significant advantages enjoyed by this type of operation. Adjusting the angles of the propeller vanes is another way to control the rate at which the propeller discharges.

The ability of Flowmore propeller pumps to produce high levels of productivity and efficiency while still preserving a constant and low pressure is a significant advantage. This type of pump is commonly utilized in industrial settings due to the fact that it is both affordable and quite durable. The high level of resistance that the materials have to substances that are chemically hostile is perhaps one of the contributing factors that has led to the widespread market adoption of the gadgets. The most striking feature of the design is the propeller, which is a part of the housing and is responsible for carrying water through the system.

The utilization of propeller pumps comes with a multitude of advantages.

When it comes to projects that demand the continuous delivery of water over an extended period of time or when it comes to the supply of water to huge businesses, these Flowmore pumps are usually utilized. Under normal circumstances, they function when they are submerged in liquid; hence, the housing does not need to be pre-soaked.

When compared to other types of pumps, propellers offer a number of advantages, including the following:

● Compact in size;

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● Honesty and morality

● Ability to perform one's work with more effectiveness;

#Propeller Pumps Manufacturer India #Propeller pumps #Propeller pump

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mbari-blog · 10 months ago

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Meet the salp chain

Salps are gelatinous animals that live in the open ocean, but are closely related to the "sea squirts" (tunicates) seen in tidepools. Colonial salps often form long chains, with new animals budding off from others in the chain. They can reach up to 15m long and are one of the fastest-growing animals on the planet. Salps rhythmically contract their bodies to propel themselves through the ocean and pump water through their guts, filtering out microscopic algae and other tiny organisms for food. They play an essential role in mitigating climate change as their fecal pellets are full of carbon and sink rapidly to the sea floor, sequestering that carbon for decades or even centuries to come.

The salp chain you see here is the rarely observed, Helicosalpa virgula. It was captured on camera by our remotely operated vehicle (ROV) Doc Ricketts 282 meters (925 feet) deep.

#marine biology #ocean #deep ocean #deep sea #salp #salp chain #cool ocean animals

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pumpssupplier · 17 days ago

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Enhanced Water Flow Control for Industrial Systems

Our mixed flow pumps provide the ideal balance between axial and radial flow characteristics, ensuring dependable operation in both open and closed systems. Contact us now!

#Pumps #Flood Control #Pump Manufacturing #Lubricated Pumps #Flow Pumps #Floating Docks #Irrigation #Pump Docks #Mixed Flow #Louisiana #Propeller Pumps

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jasmines-library · 1 year ago

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Tried and True

WHUMPTOBER 2023 DAY FOUR: Prompt - Hiding an injury.

Fandom: Batfam/DC/Young Justice

Summary: During a fight with Bane you get critically injured but leave it hidden from your brothers. When they find out, it's a race against time to get you back to the safety of the manor. Warnings: Bullet wound, blood loss, near death experience, surgery, cursing. Word count: 2.8k Note: I'm super excited about this one. That's all i'm gonna say :)

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Bane fired three shots down the alleyway. They ricocheted off the bricks, clattering to the ground with a metallic ping. Dick Grayson hid crouched behind the lip of a building overlooking the alleyway, his mask pulled tight over his face. He watched with cautious eyes, surveying the villain before him. You were hunched over on the opposite side of the street dual daggers pressed firmly into the palm of your clammy hands. Damian and Jason lingered nearby, Tim opted to survey with his older brother. He had his bo staff hooked under his arm, ready to draw back and swing at any second.

“I know you’re out there little birdies.” Bane sung, drawing out his steps as he paced the length of the alley. “Why don’t you come out for a little chat?”

He fired another round of bullets, this time up into the sky. Your little brother cast a look at you from your left, you held out a warning hand.

“Nightwing?” You asked into the coms quietly, careful not to draw unwanted attention. Even though Bane was outnumbered 5-1, he was still extremely powerful and if he caught one of you off guard, you would be in some deep shit.

“We need to wait until he gets to the end of the alley. There’s a fork. We can flank him from both sides.”

The five of you watched intently as he walked, monotonously slow. When he was a mere few steps away from the end of the alley, Nightwing gave the signal and the five of you sprang into action, disguised and protected by the thick plating of your vigilante suits each specified to fit your needs.

Landing roughly on your feet, you jumped from the building, reading your daggers in front of you. Your brothers formed a circle besides you, trapping bane between the three exits. He grinned manically.

“Finally! I thought I was going to miss out on all the fun.”

He hoisted his gun up onto his shoulder and eyed the five of you up. The look on his face was mad; cynical. His eyes glistened beneath his mask as they settled on Robin. He fired, releasing a fresh wave of bullets, but the youngest was small and quick enough to slip away, behind a crate.

With his back turned, Red Robin took his chance to make a move on Bane. He swung his staff in an arc, swiping at the giant's feet in an attempt to knock him to the ground. He wobbled, but spun around and knocked him out of the way, sending him flying into a nearby pile of junk.

“Red!?” You called out through the coms.

There was static as he shuffled around, coughing slightly as he tried to recover from having the wind knocked out from him. “All good.”

You moved next, Robin at your side. Using the walls, you propelled yourself towards Bane, trying to swing your dagger and lodge it anywhere on his exposed chest, only to have to skid across the floor as he swung his arm out to hit you. Although you weren’t successful, Robin had managed to get in a well placed slice along Bane’s torso. He had been aiming for the thick tubes which pumped him full of venom, but he wasn’t so successful.

The five of you went many rounds with Bane, swinging, slicing and dodging as you tried to get the upper hand on the giant man. Though despite being outnumbered, he had still managed to get his own in on the five vigilanties. Red Hood was suffering a twisted ankle, and Robin had a trickle of blood running down the side of his temple where Bane had managed to strike him.

“Raven!” Nightwing hollered “Flank left.”

You retreated back round the alley with your eldest brother, twisting and navigating in the dinginess to flank him from his other side. When you returned, he had Tim pinned up against a wall, gasping for air and flailing, his feet struggling to scrape against the floor. You picked up your pace, feet slapping against the concrete. You swung, leaping high into the air and bringing your daggers down in a large sweeping motion, it lodged itself in one of Bane’s tubes, staunching the flow of venom pumping into his veins. You rolled across the ground and onto your feet, skidding against the asphalt as you dodged another swing that caught Robin instead. Nightwing was suddenly flanking from Bane’s otherside, cutting off the rest of the venom’s flow. Pulling Robin to his feet, he raised his katana.

With a signal from your brother cracking out over the coms, you gripped your daggers tighter, shifting them into a more comfortable grip in front of you. The humming of Dicks escrima sticks filled the alley. There was a beat, then you all charged, using bane’s weakness to your advantage. He took a large slice across his abdomen and a shock to his body. He roared, releasing a round of bullets into the brick. Dropping like a sack of flour the five of you pressed your body to the ground, trying to dodge the lethal pieces of metal he flung your way. And that was when you felt it, a raw indescribable pain that radiated across your body above your right hip. You stifled a cry, biting your lip beneath the cover of your mask. Your breath shuddered as you rose, trying to ignore the dark red patch that bloomed across the front of your suit. You readied your daggers, trying to conceal the wound with your arm. You were hoping that the cover of the darkness would help disguise it from your brothers.

From his place on the ground, Jason fired at bane, distracting him from Tim, who swung his bo staff again at his feet, this time bringing him to the ground. Stepping forwards,you pressed your dagger to his neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to get the message across. He howled and grunted as Nightwing and Red Hood made quick work of securing him with rope they had stored on their suits, then delivering a quick blow to his head to render the giant unconscious.

Nightwing took a step back and sighed, dropping his twin fighting sticks to the ground. “Is everyone ok?”

There was a chortle of agreement between the comms. You sheathed your daggers in the hosters at your hip, groaning as your fingers brushed against the pulsating wound.

“Call B, tell him we have Bane.”

“Copy.” You said, flicking through the channels on the comms to call your father. He answered gruffly, signifying that he would be on his way on his way over as soon as he could. You heard the rumble of the batmobile in the background.

“B’s on his way.” You told your brothers, changing the coms back. “He’ll be here soon.”

You glanced down at your stomach, still oozing blood, crossing his arms in front of you, trying to hide the growing patch and keep some pressure on it. You could feel the warm, stickiness against your skin clinging to the fabric of your suit. You couldn’t feel the exit wound, piercing the back of your flesh. Just the thought of the bullet still lodged inside of you made the pain worsen tenfold. You just had to hope that you would get back to the manor in time to stitch yourself up.

~~~

Left, Right. Left, Right.

You had never been more glad to see the silhouette of the wayne manor, illuminated by the lights from the many windows that had been left on whilst you were out on patrol. You were trudging back slowly with your brothers after finishing up on patrol and ensuring that The Bat had bane secured and was taking him to Arkham. Your steps had grown sluggish, your vision doubled and your breaths uneven as you tried to keep up pace with your brothers, only to end up falling behind anyway. Your whole body ached, but nothing compared to the stabbing pain near your hip. You pulled your hand away from where you had been discreetly keeping pressure on it. Your head spun as you took in the sight of the blood dousing your hands.

Left, Right…

Not much further now. You told yourself as you forced your body to keep pressing forwards. Home was so close but felt so so far away. You made your shaky legs push on, but with your hazy vision you swayed on your feet.

Dick turned around, noticing your absence besides him.

“Raven?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. His panicked tone alerted the rest of the boys.

You were leaning on a nearby fence, trying to regain your composure.

“I- I’m fine. I just need-”

Left…

Your body gave out beneath you as you tried to push yourself away from the wall, you were swallowed by a blinding pain; hot and inflamed as you collapsed in on yourself. Jason, the closest to you, rushed forwards before your body could collide with the hard asphalt. He laid you down tenderly so that your head was lying down on his lap. Dick was by your side patting down your body for the hidden injury, followed quickly by the other two.“Raven?” Damien stared at you with wide eyes.

“Shit.” Dick cursed when his hand skimmed the tear in your suit, pulling it back with his fingers coaxed in your blood.

You cried out in pain, eyes flying wide.

Damien gripped your hand tightly, wincing at your pained expression when Jason hastily tore your mask away. He wiped away the tears which stained your cheeks.

“AH!” Your face twisted when Dick ripped apart the fabric of your suit to get a better look at the wound; circular and ugly, only around the size of a penny, but it was already an angry shade of scarlet and was leaking more blood than you though you had in your body. The fabric which had matted with your blood tugged at your skin. You squeezed Damian’s hand tightly.

“R, what happened?”

“...Shot.” You forced out.

Jason reached around the back of your suit searching for an exit wound then cursing loudly when he failed to find one. “It’s still in there.”

Dick cursed. “Okay. Tim?”

The boy looked up meekly.

“Grab the emergency pack, we’ll need tweezers, bandages. Something for the pain.”

“On it.”

“Damien? Call Alfred, tell him we need help, stat.”

Hesitantly, the Wayne let go of your hands and scrambled to get his phone. Tim was rushing back over with the supplies.

“Y/N? This is going to hurt okay?”

You nodded feebly, head lolling around in Jason’s lap.

“Hood, keep her awake.”

Jason took your head in his hands and angled it up to face him. Your eyes were fluttering closed.

“Hey, look at me, keep ‘em open kid.”

Your eyes opened in fraction as you listened to your older brother's words, though you were in a pained daze, only registering the pain in your side.

They would never forget the inhuman scream that pushed its way past your lips as Dick dig the tweezers into the wound. The pain was indescribable as your fingers clawed against the ground. You writhed in Jason’s hold, squirming away from the onslaught of pain. Dick cringed.

“Tim, keep her still.”

His hands were like cold vices on your arms as he pinned you down, trying to keep you still as his older brother rummaged through your body. Your screams had morphed into horse shouts by the time he finally got the bullet out. But then came the burst of agony as he pushed his hands down as hard as he could on your wound. You whimpered.

“I know. I know Y/N I’m sorry.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you began to lose a grip on consciousness. Black dots danced in your vision.

“Hey. Stay with us!” Tim patted your face. “We need to move fast.

Jason leaned you up against his chest so his brothers could wrap the bandages tightly around your stomach. Damien had returned, informing them that Alfred was on his way. Once the bandages were secured, you were laid back down in Jason's chest, eyes fluttering. Damien returned to holding your hands, rubbing his thumbs back and forth across the flat of your hand.

“Stay awake, Raven. Talk to us.” Tim prompted.

You were silent for a horrifying moment, before muttering out a few words. “...I’m sorry.”

“No. None of that. You’re gonna be fine.”

“I love you all.”

Your breaths were becoming shallower and you struggled to get the air you needed into your lungs. The black spots began to take over your vision.

“We love you too, Y/N. So, so much.”

You hummed contently. Your body had begun to go numb.

A dear ran down Damien’s cheek. You reached up to wipe it away as your older brother had done to you mere minutes ago.

“It’s okay.” You hushed. “It doesn’t hurt bad anymore.”

The two eldest vigilantes swallowed thickly, sharing a wide eyed glance between each other. That was when Alfred turned up, and the next minutes went by in a blur. The boys could do nothing more than watch as they whisked you away into surgery, praying that you would pull through.

~~~

Dick watched as you began to stir. Your face twitched and you shifted uncomfortably. He had his much larger hand wrapped around yours, and had done for a few hours, insisting that he stay with you. You were his baby sister after all. Bruce had tried to send the other to bed, but like Dick, Jason had insisted that he should be allowed to watch over you too. Bruce was about to protest, but he couldn’t dismiss the distraught look plastered on Jason’s face. He had no doubt that the youngest two were lingering around somewhere, minds too full of opposing thoughts to let them succumb to the sleep that their bodies begged them for. Damian had kept trying to sneak in before being dragged away by Bruce.

The room had been silent for a few hours as they watched your chest rise and fall. The surgery had been hard on your body, and for a while no one was sure that you were going to pull through. Albeit there you were lying pale but showing signs of waking up, on your bed.

Alfred and Bruce were frequently in and out of your room where you lay hooked up to all sorts of machines that made Jason cringe. His head was resting on the side of your bed by the hand that Dick wasn’t nursing. His eyes had begun to droop shut as the early hours of the day crept around, when you shifted the let out a pained whimper. When he turned his head, he was greeted by your striking eyes.

He scrambled off of the floor and into the chair that had been pulled up by your bed. “Y/N? Hey.”

“Boys?” You blinked, your head still groggy from the anaesthesia.

The eldest boy gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah kiddo. We’re here.”

Trying to sit up, the tug on your stitches elicited another cry of pain. Instinctively, both boys helped you sit up.

“Take it easy, little bat.” Dick told you as you gingerly pushed back the sheets. Your hip was bound tightly in a white bandage. “He got you good.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jay pressed. “You could have…”

“I-”

You were cut off by the sound of the door shuddering open and a pair of your ‘not so little anymore’ brothers' heads peeking around it. They were hesitant, glancing around the room until you gave them a gentle smile.

“Y/N,” Damian rushed into the room, wrapping you tightly into a hug.

“Hey Dami.” You murmured into his ear.

He was suddenly ripped away from you by a grinning Tim who chided “Hey, be careful with her, you demon spawn. It’s my turn.”

You chuckled as he pulled you desperately into his arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay Y/N/N. I was so scared.”

You frowned, hoarse voice breaking as you spoke. “I’m sorry-”

“Damian.” A haggard voice sounded from somewhere in the hallway. It was followed by a pair of heavy set shoes. “How many times do I have to tell you to get back in bed-”

Bruce stopped abruptly at the sight of his children crowded before him. His eyes were clad with dark bags and his hair was unkempt on his head.

“Hi Dad.” Your voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it nonetheless. Pushing past his sons, he was at your side in less than a second.

And that was when the reality of the whole situation hit you. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Dad. I’m sorry. I- I wasn’t thinking.”

“Shh.” He hushed. “This isn’t your fault. This is no one’s fault but Bane’s.”

“But-”

“Listen to the old man for once little bat. All that matters is that everyone is still together.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY THREE ⛤ DAY FIVE ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

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chiscaralight · 1 month ago

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#7 on fishy’s failed kinktober! includes: nsfw sukuna x fem reader, primal play, outdoor sex, fingering. unprotected sex, breeding, not tf!sukuna but he’s still pretty big, reader gets referred to as bunny once

you’re running as fast as your legs can take you. you’re out white sundress is ruined from hooking on the branches obscuring your path as you make your way deeper and deeper into the forest.

the deep laugh behind you shakes your bones down to the core. the adrenaline is coursing through every vein in you, propelling you forward to escape the man behind you.

sukuna thinks it’s adorable that you think you have a chance. his steps are slow, almost lazy as he watches you weave through the terrain. your feet are probably getting insanely sore, but he admires your determination. too bad he’s already set his mind on you, his prey, and he’s starving for a fill of you.

and you’re trying to muffle your cry when you trip over, protecting your face with your arms as you collide with the ground. no. you can't die here. you have to get out.

but it’s already too late. this large being chasing you for minutes is already closing in.

you’re backing up despite the pain shooting up your leg. his smile is sinister as he steps closer, eyes darkening when you realize you're trapped between him and a large tree.

even if you weren’t burdened by the damage on your leg, he’s far too close for you to escape. sukuna crouching in front of you, a large hand gripping your chin as he forces your eyes onto him. your predator.

and it’s in these moments that you take your time to observe the evil that has been chasing you. from the way his hair is slightly illuminated by the moonlight to the intricate markings around his bare chest and body. you keep your eyes trained directly on him, attempting to stand your ground.

but sukuna is not like you. he can smell the salt in your tears, the fear emanating from your body. but most importantly, he can smell the arousal that’s starting to seep from your body.

even in the face of death, you still dare you think such horrible thoughts? wonderful.

you’re the kind he especially likes, unable to control the primal urges built into your dumb human system.you've also managed to come much farther than he ever thought you would, and that is deserving of a bit of praise, no?

he could have killed you long ago, but sometimes, it’s more fun to play the waiting game. after all, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to dip his fingers into the essence that’s leaking from your cunt and see you cry on his fingers, struggling to get away from the pleasure he’s drilling into you.

nor would he have been able to press you into the ground like he is now, bullying his large cockhead into your sopping hole. your screams and moans reverberate through the dense collection of trees, scaring birds into the sky and small forest dwellers into their hiding holes.

your pussy is squeezing down on his length, almost begging him to not go. his thrusts are quick and sharp, striking your cervix with harsh blows each time he sheaths his entire length inside you. your nails are digging pathetic into the large expanse of his shoulders, a pathetic attempt to keep him locked in place as he fucks you senseless into the grass.

but it’s the way you ask him, beg him; the one who terrorized you, the one who only plan was to kill you, to cum inside that flicks that switch in his malevolent brain. all the thoughts of ending you washed away in an instant as he only has one goal now. to breed you.

and he’s pumping you stupidly full with his release, trapping every last drop in you until he’s perfectly sure he’s done. he’ll drain his balls completely in you as you whine into his skin, sensitive from the brutal fucking you just endured.

it’s not often that sukuna changes his mind, but he has mentally revoked his plans to kill you. he’s claiming you as his, carrying you over his shoulder like a sack despite your weak protests.

in all his years, not a single concubine has made him feel the way you did. even just the thought of fucking you once more, even for a moment is causing blood to rush to his aching cock, nasty thoughts flooding his mind about all the ways he’ll bend you to fuck you stupid, pumping you just right so you can give him the perfect heir he’s always desired.

how could he ever let you go? your pussy is dizzying, perfect. even for him; the king of curses, is a large feat. so he’ll keep you as his for as long as he wants and breed this pussy as many times as he pleases. all you have to do is sit there and take it, like the good bunny he’s made you out to be.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna smut #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna

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roguelov · 3 months ago

Text

Scars and All

Summary: For a few years, you have been friends with Trafalgar Law. And for a few years you have harbored a crush on his dad, Donquixote Rosinante. You tried, and tried, to ignore such feelings, but perhaps it’s time to put it all out into the open. No more hiding, you will tell him how you feel. You only hope he will let you down gently.

Word Count: ~8.9k

Reader: fem/afab (reader referred to a sweetheart/sweet girl)

Warnings: SMUT (age gap (reader is in their mid 20s and Cora is 40), breast play, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk, small breeding kink, mostly dom!cora), minor angst (denial of feelings), pining, fluff in the end

(Fanart and inspo for the fic by levikra)

The idle rumbling of the car was the only thing keeping you grounded, or was the irritable sensation propelling your already splintered mind into more of a frenzy? You pressed your forehead into the steering wheel. The sun’s ray heated the faux leather, unfortunately not bringing you any relief or comfort. Just more irritation.

This is stupid.

Grumbling, you lifted your head, peering up at the picturesque house. It was simple with a small porch with rickety chairs to recline in, and a worn down welcome mat. Shutters muted by the sun. Its attached garage had its mouths open revealing a sleek vintage car and a motorcycle parked inside.

Plain. Ordinary.

Yet, it was frighteningly daunting. You white-knuckled your steering wheel. Your heart pounded feverishly in your chest. Blood pumped so loud in your ears you could barely discern the jumbled voices from the radio. A song? An interview? Why did it matter? Why were you focusing on such trivial things when -

Dumb. This is so fucking dumb and stupid and - and I should just leave. He wouldn’t -

You banged your head - again - against the steering wheel, growing out in frustration. “What am I doing here,” you asked the rhetorical question in the lone space.

You tilted your head, glancing at your passenger and the reason for the afflictions to your spiraling mind: a plastic container of an assortment of cookies. The container sparkled in the sunlight as if smiling giddily eager to be delivered.

You grumbled to yourself, “Why did I talk myself into this?”

*****

“Ooo, it smells amazing in here!”

You peered over your shoulder, looking back at your friend and housemate, Evelyn. She hungrily eyed all the variety of cookies littered across the kitchen counters cooling and some already packed neatly in containers. Giggling, she snatched up a fresh one, biting into it.

She hummed, smiling at you, “It’s so good.”

Your cheeks warmed and you smiled bashfully, “Thanks.”

She plopped down at one of the dining chairs, happily nibbling on her cookie. “So why’d you make so much? And why did you ask me to help?”

You snickered at her tone and small pout. “Ah well, I wanted to make some chocolate chip cookies but then you saw we had plenty of other ingredients so it just spiraled out of control from there.”

She frowned a bit, deciphering your roundabout words. “Stress baking?”

Your eyes dropped to the side. Caught. “Yeah, kind of.”

“Why?”

You added some cooled cookies into another container. “Well … I was thinking about bringing some to Rosinante .. and I know Law is still doing his shift at the hospital.”

She beamed, finishing off her cookie. “Yeah, I bet they will like them.”

You said nothing, you just closed the container, sealing it tight.

Evelyn watched you for a moment. Your hand nervously patted on your pants, rubbing off the flour and sugar. Your eyes darted around counting and recounting all the cookies. “What’s wrong? What do you think they won’t like them?” She asked.

“Huh? Oh, uh … no, that’s not the issue.” You shuffled side to side. “I thought that maybe I could finally do it.”

She cocked her head. “Do what?”

You fiddled with your fingers. “That … that I could tell Rosinante how I feel.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Really?”

She had known about your crush on him, you had confided in her some time ago. She had even comforted you when a few tears were shed under the veil of night. It wasn’t right to have a crush on your shared friend’s dad. You knew this. You tried to drop it, to let him go, yet with every conversation you had with him you fell a bit more.

“I … I just … I don’t want to keep pretending,” you quietly admitted. “If he doesn’t like me, then so be it … maybe I could finally move on once I hear it from him … it’ll be awkward as hell when we go over there in the future but … I should do this.”

No more delusions or what ifs. Your mind tired of these endless running thoughts every single night.

Eve gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m proud of you.”

You smiled, a small one. You placed a hand on your chest, rubbing the spot over your racing heart.

I got this.

Taking a deep breath, you picked up a perfectly packaged container. You held the container close to your chest, however once you turned to leave you froze.

Seeing your hesitation, Evelyn got up and started pushing you towards the door. ��Alright, go.”

You dug your heels into the floor. “But -“

“Nope, now shoo.”

“Actually I - I changed my mind. This is a terrible idea and I don’t want to do the adult thing anymore -“

“It’s a wonderful idea,” she urged you, opening the front door for you. “And he’ll love them.”

And you, she thought.

“I don’t care if he likes the cookies,” you grumbled. “It’s the other thing.”

“You can do it. I know he likes you back -“

You vehemently shook your head, pushing back on her attempts. “I can’t -“

She spun you around, grabbing your arms. Her eyes blazed with determination, far more than your own. “Yes, you can. You said you would do it, so no backing out.”

You hung your head, sighing deeply, “… fine.”

She beamed. “Great! And don’t worry, I’ll keep Law away … for a few hours.”

Your cheeks burned. “Whoa, it won’t -“

With one final shove, you stumbled backwards out the door. She chirped in a cheery tone, “Now, go. And good luck!”

The door then slammed in your face.

*****

Fuck it, just do it!

Shutting off the engine and snatching up the cookies, you hopped out of your car. Every step towards the front door, every time your heart jumped up into your throat. You wanted to turn tail and hide, but how could you go back home? Eve will certainly give you trouble.

I could just sneak inside and hide away in my room.

You muttered to yourself. It was at least a decent idea.

Wrong. All wrong, a voice hissed in the back of your mind. You’re a friend of his kid, why would he even see you like this? You shouldn’t have even entertained this for a second. It’s all wrong.

Your heart ached. You shoved that voice back, locking it in the far recesses of your mind. You didn’t need it whispering in your ear. Again. You just needed to get this all off your chest, you couldn’t bear the weight of this secret anymore. The rejection will sting, it will gut you, and you will cry, but then hopefully you could finally move on.

With a shaky hand, you pressed the doorbell. The chime cut through the silence. You flinched. Glancing over your shoulder, you wondered if anyone was watching this slow disastrous train wreck.

This is a dumb idea. Maybe I could -

The doorknob clicked then opened. You whipped around, staring up at the owner of the home, the father of your friend, and the owner of your heart: Donquixote Rosinante. With a cigarette hanging from his lips, he smiled warmly, “Hey, what brings you around here?”

Matching his smile, you held up the cookies. “I made a bit too much so I thought I would stop by and bring some.”

His eyes lit up. “Really? Thank you, here -“ he moved aside giving you space to step in, “- come on in, you know where the kitchen is.”

You nodded, walking in. Smiling, Rosinante closed the door behind you. You passed by the living room and into the kitchen with Rosinante following behind you. You set down the cookies on the kitchen island. Rosinante circled around the island to the other side. He took his cigarette, flicking the ashes into a small glass tray. His eyes darted over to you. He saw the question written so clearly on your face.

“I know I’m trying to quit. Just please don’t tell, Law,” he said, taking a small drag. “I know the kid is almost a doctor now, but it’s hard to break such an old habit -“ he winked “- it can be our little secret.”

Your heart fluttered. “My lips are sealed.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Joy, unbridled joy and elation, bloomed at the nickname. It brought a warmth unlike any other: sunshine on a snowy winter morning, bonfire on a cool summer night, or a warm blanket wrapped around at night. You couldn’t remember when it started, but you loved it. His deep voice mixed so lovely with the affectionate tone of the name. It was this small insignificant thing that made your heart cling to hope, hope that maybe - just maybe - he felt something.

“Do you mind?” Rosinante pointed at the container.

“Oh! Uh, no please go ahead,” you answered.

He smiled then opened it up. He inhaled the tantalizing decadent aroma. “Smells great.”

He plucked a chocolate chip cookie. Holding his cigarette between his fingers, he took a bite. He hummed. His eyes twinkled with delight. ”This is amazing! You’re a great baker.”

You smiled bashfully. “Thanks.”

Looking at him, your expression softened as he finished the cookie with a smile. However as he ate the last bite, your eyes caught something. “Hey, uh, you have …,” you gestured to a spot on your own cheek.

Rosinante tilted his head. His golden hair swept across his forehead. His innocent face made him appear decades younger.

How can a grown man look so adorable?

You reiterated, “You have some chocolate on your cheek.”

“Oh!” He swiped his thumb across his skin - to where you pointed - then gently sucked the chocolate off. He hummed, licking his lips. “Thanks.”

You kept your voice steady. “No problem.”

He really doesn’t understand what he does to me.

“Any reason you made so many cookies?” Rosinante asked, closing the lid.

You shrugged. “Just wanted some, but then it kind of spiraled into making a bunch of different batches.”

He smiled, leaning on the island. “Well, thank you for sharing. I might eat them all before Law gets a chance to try one.”

You mimicked him, resting your elbows on the island. “No worries, we have plenty back at the house … that is if Eve doesn’t eat them all.”

He snickered and took another drag of his cigarette.

Your eyes skimmed over him. He truly was a golden god, yet wrapped up with some boyish charms. You tore your eyes away. Your heart started to speed up again with the mere thought of spilling everything out in the open. He picked up the cookies, turning his back to you and putting them next to the fridge. It was out of sight, and somewhat hidden for a sweet treat for himself later.

Ok, fuck, breathe. Just - just say it. It’s now or never.

Clearing your throat, you spoke in a shaky voice. “Rosinante?”

He hummed, his back still to you,

I can do it. It’s fine - it’ll be fine.

You took a long deep breath. “I … I have something I want to tell you.”

He froze.

Instantly, he knew where the conversation would go before you could utter another word. The thing was Rosinante wasn’t clueless or oblivious to your infatuation with him. He will admit he didn’t at first, however it all clicked. He saw how you clung to each of his words, how you stared at him when you thought he wasn't watching, how you leaned towards him craving his warmth, or how you always sought out his company. He was surprised, yes, and in heavy denial for some time. But, as weeks passed, his observation and theory only solidified.

He could only hope your crush would pass.

Rosinante twisted around. “Please don’t.”

Most of all, Rosinante hoped and prayed his own attraction to you faded. It started as a small bud in his chest. Yet, the more and more you came around, the more you talked and laughed with him, the more the simple infatuation grew. It rooted its vines deep within his heart, taking hold and control of him. He craved your presence constantly, you were becoming his new addiction.

But, it wasn’t right.

Rosinante sighed heavily. Taking his cigarette, he smothered it out in the ashtray. “I know what you’re about to say.”

You blinked. “You do?”

Does he?

He glanced up, staring directly into your eyes. Why were his eyes so sorrowful? Or … pitiful? “You we’re about to make a confession, were you not?”

Embarrassment. White hot searing embarrassment coursed through you. Your eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights. You quickly dropped your head, hiding your boiling shame. Your hands balled into fists at your sides, nails burying into your palms.

“Please don’t.”

His haunting words replayed on repeat.

Fuck, I was right. Shit -

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing back the tears.

Rosinante frowned. Fuck. Maybe, he shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe, he should have let you speak first. But, he was trying to save you some pain. He moved around the counter, hovering by your side. His hand raised to comfort you. However, when he heard the faint sniffles, his heart clenched and his hand dropped.

Damn it.

“Look, it’s -“

You snapped your head up. You smiled, an awfully forced one that didn’t convince Rosinante in the slightest. Taking a deep breath, you tried to swim faster than the typhoon of emotions hurtling through your mind. “No, you don’t have to explain yourself. I - I understand … I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

It was a long shot, an impossible chance. Why did a part of me believe it would work? How delusional could I be?

You spun on your heels to leave, but Rosinante caught your wrist. He tugged you back. His hands cupped your face, forcing you to stay and look at him. He searched in your frantic eyes to see if he overstepped. But, all he saw was pain trying to be bottled up. “I do owe you an explanation, it’s only right,” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts, “sweetheart, it’s cliche I know but it’s not you, it’s me … I’m … I’m not right for you.”

Your heart - your conflicted heart - flipped. “… what?”

He sighed, “You are kind and wonderful and amazing -“

And everything I could ever hope for, he thought.

“- but I’m broken. I’m old. I’m scarred. I’m - I’m not whole.”

Unlike you.

His words swirled around in your head. Broken. Old. Scarred. “So?” You asked in a quiet voice.

Rosinante’s eyebrows furrowed.

Pushing down your nerves, you pressed on. “Not everyone is perfect and - and without flaws, do you think I am? Do you think I don’t have some sort of scars whether etched into my skin or across my heart?”

He blinked, taken back by your words.

Just spill it all. He … he already knows.

“Only you make me feel like this,” you whispered, dropping your gaze. “Only you can constantly make me laugh and smile, and - and brighten my day. You make me feel seen, heard.”

Rosinante’s heart hammered. “Can - can you look at me?”

Your eyes wearily inched back up. Your eyes were glassy with tears threatening to spill.

He smiled sadly, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone. “Hey, don’t waste your tears on this old fool.”

“Why not?” You muttered, desperately keeping your voice calm. “You’re amazing … why can’t you see that?”

Because I have a complicated past, he bitterly thought. I’m old, past my prime. You deserve better.

“Sweetheart -“

“Please,” you cut him off. “If - if you don’t like me, want me, or - or see me in this way then just please let me go. Don’t make me stay here any longer … but if you do … if you like me in some way … then …”

Your voice trailed off, leaving it up to him to interpret. An admission of his feelings? A kiss? It just had to be some obvious sign. You were trying not to crumble before him.

Please, just let me go.

Rosinante licked his lips. His heart raced sporadically in his chest. What should he do? What was the right thing to do?

To let you go.

To save you - one of his son’s friends - from this broken old man.

But what did he want? What did his heart yearn for?

You. He wanted you, he always wanted you. And maybe this was his only chance at happiness.

Why shouldn’t he at least try?

He leaned down slowly as if waiting for you to run, for you to get out while you could. But, you stayed firm. His face hovered inches above yours. His eyes bore into you searching and deciphering any signs, or tells, that meant regret. He couldn’t. He only saw hope, hope that this wasn’t a fantasy, hope that you could finally love and cherish him as you believed he deserved.

His eyes slid down to your lips, so soft and waiting so patiently. He swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. His eyes flickered back, locking with yours. “I want this, but tell me,” he whispered desperately; his hand now wrapped around the back of your neck holding you firmly, realizing he didn’t want you to run away now, “tell me you want this. I - I just need to hear you say it.”

You hesitantly reached up, touching the side of his face. His chin was slightly prickly unlike his usual kempt appearance. Your hand traced upwards, threading through his blonde locks - that nearly covered those beautiful rustic red eyes of his. “I want this,” you breathed out. “I want you, scars and all.”

Rosinante crashed his lips against yours. He claimed your lips, pouring all this untapped love into it. He wanted - needed - you to know how much you meant to him, how much he wanted this, and how long he had deprived himself of it. His lips parted, darting his tongue along your lips pleading for entrance. You shakily parted your lips, still surprised this was truly happening. Rosinante hummed, slipping his tongue inside. You whimpered faintly. With your head tipped all the way back to accommodate his height, you were truly at his mercy.

And you loved it.

He eagerly explored your mouth, swirling his tongue wanting to taste every part of you. You clung to him, feeling your knees about to buckle. Chocolate and hints of nicotine blossomed over your tongue. His tongue commanded your attention, yet so did his hands. His dexterous hands glided down your body. He awkwardly hunched forward, but he didn’t mind. He had you, he could hold you, touch you. His hands greedily roamed over you, mapping out the curves and lines of your body. He sneakily cupped your rear and thighs, making you gasp. Rosinante smirked against your lips. A quick squeeze and jerk urged you to jump.

And you did.

The ex-marine lifted you up quite easily. Your legs wrapped so wonderfully around his waist, and you threw your arms over his shoulders. However, he couldn’t make it quite far. Taking only a few steps, he stumbled into the wall. You were far too distracted by his lips and touch, you hadn’t noticed his quick reaction: one of his hands cradled your head, protecting it from the wall.

He pulled away from your lips, mumbling, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you panted.

He smiled, wide and beautiful, making his eyes crinkled in an adorable way. He was enthralled with you, and this moment. How could you truly be here in his arms, in his grasp? It was a dream, a dream he didn’t want to ever end. “Can we keep going?” He asked, nudging his nose against yours.

“Please,” you answered.

He captured your lips again, but slower. He wanted to memorize the shape and feeling of your lips. There was precision to his movements, a dance. The ex-marine knew how to maintain control, and how to draw everything out. Each stolen breath, each push and pull of his lips, each slow drag of his tongue, each teasing nibble left you clinging to him.

One of his hands slipped under your shirt, skimming up your back. You shivered at his cool calloused fingers. He murmured, “Soft.”

His fingertips drew nonsensical patterns, or so you thought. He purposefully drew hearts and spirals, carving his unspoken love. His hand moved upward before dragging his blunt nails across your back. He so desperately wished to mark your skin, to put his scar on you.

“Can I take off your shirt?” He begged into your swollen lips.

You didn’t answer. Using the wall as leverage, you haphazardly wiggled out of your shirt and tossed it randomly onto the kitchen floor. Excited and dazed, you didn’t bother to wait for him to ask about your bra. You unhooked it, adding it to the pile. His eyes widened, staring down at your breasts with his slightly mouth agape.

Fuck, this is really happening, he thought.

You nervously bit your lip. Your mind began to second guess his silence.

Shit, did I go too far? What if he didn’t -

Rosinante quickly hoisted you higher up then craned his head down. His lips wrapped perfectly around your breast, sucking on it. You sighed, arching your back to better help him. Your fingers slipped into his hair, holding his head close. Heat pooled in the pit of your stomach. His tongue circled around your nipple. Your lips and mouth had just learned his sensual dance. Every swipe of his tongue, your body shuddered. He teasingly nipped at the bud, making you gasp. He removed his mouth with an audible ‘pop‘ like he wanted you to know how good you tasted, how much it pained him to break away. Yet, he couldn’t neglect the other. He kissed along your chest, hungrily capturing your other breast.

“Rosi,” you breathed out.

Fuck, he loves how that sounded. How could his name send such intense pleasure skyrocketing through his body? His cock jumped in his pants. Gods, he needed to hear it again, and again, and again. His hands squeezed your ass both trying to hold himself back and as if you forced it out of you.

And it worked.

You whimpered.

Faint, yet so sweet.

Pulling away from your breasts, he rested his forehead against yours. Your chests heaved in an odd symphony. The thinnest space separated your lips, your shared breaths mixed together. His air was yours and your air was his, souls were mingling in such close proximity. His eyes shone, all his emotions now officially and completely bare.

No, more hiding. No more denying.

He stole your lips once again, unable to get enough of them. Humming, you arched your back, pressing your now spit covered breasts into him. The tiny bit of friction of your perked nipples across his rough shirt sent sparks of pleasure down your spine. However, and unfortunately, he broke the kiss far too quickly. You eagerly chased after his lips, needing them. Rosinante hid his amused smile. He kissed down your neck, swiping that devious tongue of his over your sensitive skin. He whispered, “You taste like sugar.”

“I - ah - I may have made a mess earlier,” you admitted. “Butter and sugar got everywhere.”

He chuckled. He wanted to say he expected no less from his sweetheart. Sweetness seemed to always pour from you, and he always wanted to drink from you - to always have a taste. For a fleeting moment, he contemplated taking you here. He could lay you across the kitchen island, pour honey across your skin, especially your breasts, and have his way with you. But, he shelved such an idea.

Not today, another time, he promised himself.

“Upstairs?” He asked into your neck.

“Up - fuck.” Rosi nipped at your skin, gently sucking and soothing the spot. His lips curled into a smirk, a smirk you felt burned into your skin. Your head tipped back into the wall as he continued his sweet assault. How could such a kind, sweet man be so conniving, so sly?

“What was that, sweetheart?” He teased in a low tone.

“Upstairs.” You breathlessly added, “Please.”

“Of course.” He pushed off the wall, delicately carrying you up the stairs.

However, since he was so focused on carrying you, you decided to return such delightful favors. You started by peppering his face in adoring kisses from his cheeks, to his nose, then his lips.

He chuckled with a growing smile, “Sweet girl, you need to stop or I might trip.”

“We’ll be fine,” you brushed him off.

Your lips trailed soft butterfly kisses along his prickly jaw and down his neck. Your sweetness turned sinister. You placed a single open mouth kiss on the crook of his neck. He let out a soft pleased sigh. Your teeth then grazed over his skin. His grip on you tightened. You lightly bit him, feeling a shudder run through his body. Smirking, you sucked - viciously and without remorse - on a sensitive spot ensuring you left your mark on him.

His reaction was perfect. He groaned and stumbled backwards into the wall by his bedroom door. The thud resonated through the still home, so much so a few pictures wobbled on the wall threatening to fall. “Shit,” he hissed.

You continued your attack listening to his heated swears under his breath. Once you felt satisfied, you pulled away, eyeing your red spot with a triumphant grin. It will only darken with time, a lovely reminder. Looking into his eyes, they were blown wide with lust and desire which mirrored your own. Smirking, you teasingly nipped his bottom lip. He swore again. Using one hand, he brought your head closer, attacking your lips with new energy. He pried himself off the wall and rushed into his bedroom. He used his muscle memory stumbling and swaying into the room until his shins hit the edge of his bed. Carefully, he laid you down on his sheets.

So gentle, so delicate.

His lips skimmed down to your heaving chest, between your breasts and to your hips. His fingers followed after his lips, tracing down your sides. Your breath stuttered at his feathery touches. His breath fanned over your lower stomach, hitting the waistband of your pants. His eyes flickered up, peering through his eyelashes.

“Can I?” He whispered in such a loving tone.

You nodded, unable to muster up a single syllable.

He undid the buttons of your pants and tugged them down while you lifted your hips to help. He bit the inside of his cheek. So beautiful. His hands traveled up your legs, squishing your thighs. She’s really here. He then spread your legs a bit, and didn’t miss the dark wet patch on your underwear. His chest burned with desire knowing he was responsible. His finger hooked around the band of your underwear. If he could, he would have torn them off already.

“Can these go next,” he asked, continuing to ensure he had your consent with every step.

Your heart skipped. “Y-yeah.”

He pulled them off as calmly as possible, and tossed them aside. Your cunt was dripping. He swore his mouth started to water. Swallowing, he silently drank in your figure, still reeling you were here. He wanted to ravish you, he wanted to make love to you, he wanted to do it all.

However, for you, the silence pressed on for too long. His blank stare morphed into disinterest in your mind. Insecurities bubbled up as it dawned on you how you were now completely naked before him. Your hands covered your chest and you snapped your legs closed.

What am I -

Rosinante’s eyes widened at your sudden change. He immediately climbed onto the bed, over top of you, and removed your hands from your chest. “Please, don’t,” he breathed out. “I - I’m sorry … you’re just so beautiful.”

Your cheeks and chest flooded with heat. You quickly turned your head to the side, hiding.

He cupped your cheek, turning your head back to him. “You are. Please don’t hide from me.”

His soft expression and kind smile eased back the fears. You slowly nodded.

“Good. Here, it’s only fair.” He leaned back and removed his shirt, adding it to the pile on his floor.

Your breath hitched. Your eyes darted all over, taking him all in. So many scars. You propped yourself up on your elbow, reaching out. You carefully traced over each of them, outlining the rigids and harsh ragged shapes. Rosi watched you intensely. A shiver ran down his spine. You were so delicate, as if he were made of glass. Your face filled with some kind of concentration, one he didn’t fully understand.

You asked softly, “Can … can you flip over?”

Stunned a bit, yet Rosi complied. He rolled onto his back into the squeaky mattress. You swiftly straddled his hips. Before he could ask, you bent down kissing one scar by his ribs. His heart leapt up into his throat. You then methodically kissed every single scar - no matter the size nor how gnarly it appeared - all over his chest. You finished your endeavor by kissing the one near his heart, an almost fatal hit. His heart thrummed beneath your lips, and you felt the elated vibrations. You peered up to see his cheeks flushed a rosy red and his lips parted as he tried to calm his breathing. You had rendered this man - this near mammoth of a man - into an utter mess. He was putty under such touches, touches he had long deprived himself of.

You smiled, resting your cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, a beat which your heart harmonized with. “I’m sorry, did I -“

“Don’t.” He let out a shaky exhale. “Don’t apologize. I - I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Your hand followed the curve of his chest to a scar on his right shoulder. You, once again, traced the shape. Rosi shuddered. At his reaction, a thought suddenly dawned on you. “Rosi, are your scars sensitive?”

He rubbed a hand over his face, mumbling, “Just a bit.”

Noted.

You held back a devious smirk. Sitting up, you placed your hands on his chest. Your nails raked down.

Maybe I could have some fun -

Rosi’s hands suddenly gripped your hips. He yanked you all the way up his body. A sharp gasp left your lips. Your hands flung out and collided with the wall for support. Your eyes - wide and somewhat confused - dropped down. You now straddled over his face, your knees on either side. His hands wrapped around your thighs and squeezed, letting the fat pool between his fingers. Most importantly, his grip indicated one thing: he was unwilling to let you go.

“Fuck.” He groaned, looking up at your dripping cunt like it was a meal.

Your heart sped up, “Wait, Rosi - I -“

“Sweetheart, I dreamt of this so many times,” he whispered. His breath, each puff of air, sent jolts through your body. “Please, can I have this?”

No one had begged before.

Trying and failing to keep your voice steady, you stuttered out, “I, uh, y-yes - ah!”

Rosinante eagerly yanked you down, unable to wait another second. Humming, his lips wrapped around you. The tip of his tongue swept over your folds, collecting and tasting you. Sparks burst through you.

“Rosinante,” you moaned. How could one single motion left you so vocal?

He smirked at your reaction as he weaved a spell over you. He moaned as he started devouring you. His tongue teasingly traced your folds. You shuddered. He did it once, twice, then pushed his tongue inside of you. He curled his tongue, hitting your spongy walls. You whimpered. Your hands balled up into fists, clawing at the wall. His tongue - long and thick - moved with precision. His age and experience truly showed in his moment. He knew how to work it, how to render you in his beautiful mess.

He hummed. The wondrous vibrations made you moan loudly and unabashedly. A noise you never expected you to make. One of your hands instinctively shot down and latched onto his hair. Mindless on your growing pleasure, you tugged on his strands, making him groan. More vibrations, more dizzying sensations, more of your juices coated his lips and face.

Rosinante nearly rolled his eyes back. Fuck, this was better than his measly dreams. His cock twitched in his pants at each of your sounds. And gods if you tasted and felt this amazing just around his tongue, then how would it feel to be buried inside of you? Precum spilled in his pants at the mere thought.

Pleasure built deep in your stomach. As his tongue expertly moved and curled in and out of you, you lowered yourself more and greedily rocked your hips to chase after the pleasure. He moaned. His fingers dug harshly into your thighs, possibly leaving bruises.

“That’s it, sweetheart, ride my face,” he purred.

Shit.

Rosinante’s eyes darkened. Your walls fluttered around his tongue at his blunt words. He watched your head tip back as a sweet whimper hummed in the back of your throat.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured with a devious smirk.

His words added to the insatiable heat burning you from the inside out. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the pornogrpahic moans daring to escape. He continued to watch, unwilling to tear his gaze away. He loved how your breasts bounced, tempting him to feast on him again, how your back curled so elegantly, how your thighs slowly squeezed around him minimizing his world so it was you and you alone, and how your hips stuttered losing concentration at his words, his pet names, and his merciless tongue.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” his voice was low and commanding, drawing up such a tone from his former marine days.

You shakily glanced down at him. Your eyes drooped with lust and desperation, your chest heaved gulping down air, and your mouth hung open as whimpers and moans poured out. To him, you were picture perfect, a sight to behold and cherish.

He turned his head, kissing your thigh. “Good, now can you lean forward for me?”

With a tiny nod, you tipped your hips forward.

”That’s it, good girl.”

Your whole body pulsed. Such praise, such simple words shouldn’t set your body ablaze, and yet you nearly crumble. You already wanted to hear that honey tone pour from his lips again.

His lips wrapped around your swollen clit, sucking on it. You inhaled sharply. His hand then caressed down between your thighs. It trailed down with such a light tough until one of his slender fingers dragged slowly through your soaked lips. You lurched at the feeling. He gingerly pushed his finger in. You shut your eyes tight and bit your lip, almost drawing blood. His finger moved painstakingly slow, both wanting to be careful yet also wanting to tease you closer to that edge.

“More,” you begged, already pushing your hips back. “Please.”

Rosinante happily and easily added a second finger. The wet sounds echoed in the room from him hungrily sucking and licking at your clit, to his fingers being drenched in your juices. It was all too much. You pressed your forehead into the wall, closing your eyes. It held all of your support. You were panting, nearly drooling as pleasure claimed your whole body.

Fuck, Rosinante could come at the sight of you like a horny teenager. His cock ached to be free, to be buried within your walls, to be stroked by your delicate fingers, to be wrapped around your tongue, or perhaps to be smushed between your breasts. He wanted it all. But, he also wanted this. He needed this just as much as you did. His pleasure can wait, he wanted to devote all his energy onto you. He hummed again.

Another moan fell off your lips.

Cracking open your eyes, you were greeted with Rosinante’s red glowing eyes beneath you. He then kissed your clit, softly as if giving one a kiss on the cheek, and cooed, “Be a good girl and come all over my face.”

“Fuck,” you swore. He chuckled, a rich laugh. He crooked his finger, hitting a certain spot. You gasped, seeing stars. “T-There, fuck, right there.”

Rosi immediately zoned onto that spot. His fingers bullied into you with new purpose. Each curl, scissoring, of his fingers snatched your breath away. His tongue and mouth, however, could not be forgotten either. He sucked and swirled his tongue, guiding you closer to the edge. You tightened your grip on his hair, nails scraping along his scalp. And he could only moan. Pleasure and pain tangled so well together.

You mewled, “Rosi, I - I about to come.”

“Give it to me,” he growled.

The pressure built and built, and you quickly abandoned all caution and care. You began to grind back on his fingers, practically humping his face. A fog was casted over your mind, only able to think of your pleasure. Rosinante moaned, fueling your end.

Yes, use me, he thought.

A few more pumps of his slender fingers, mixed with his constant attack on your clit, you cried out his name gushing all over his face. The edges of your vision blurred with stars. Rosinante swiftly pulled out his fingers and greedily drank you up. He groaned, enjoying every drop. He feasted until your legs were shaking, ready to topple over and you were whimpering and jerking from the intense overstimulation.

He thankfully - and finally - stopped. He lifted you up and off his face, laying you down on the bed. He then littered your heavy tired body with kisses as you came back to your senses. He kissed your cheek then forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, tossing him a lopsided smile. “I’m good.”

Great. Fantastic. Amazing.

He smiled, giving you a short kiss. He continued his conquest kissing down your neck and chest. You sighed dreamily, threading your fingers through his hair. Your desires, however, were being reignited by every kiss. You still craved more, you wanted him all.

“I want you,” you whispered softly.

He lifted his head with some hesitancy behind his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You hadn’t been more sure in your life.

“Ok,” he smiled, giving you a quick peck on your lips.

Standing up, you finally could drink in the full sight of him. The years had been so kind to him. He was like a Greek god: golden hair kissed by Apollo and Helios, a rugged physique that battled Ares’s, a booming laughter rivaling Zeus’s own thunder, a voice so rich and luscious like ambrosia poured directly from Dionysus’s cup, and all of it wrapped together and blessed by Aphrodite’s touch.

He was beautiful, more than beautiful he was ethereal.

He tugged down his pants, along with his boxers. Your eyes trailed down to chest, to his stomach, to the thin patch of darker blonde strands to his hard cock - long and thick, matching his already intimidating height. His tip red and swollen as precum leaked out, a sign of your effect on him.

You swallowed nervously.

Would he fit?

Rosinante’s ego inflated at your stunned reaction. He kicked aside the clothing, unfortunately his clumsy curse returned momentarily. Getting tripped up, he toppled sideways, crashing to the ground. You immediately sprung up. Before you could think to ask if he was okay, he propped himself up. His cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment. He huffed, resting his chin on the edge of the bed.

Smooth, he sarcastically thought to himself.

You bit your lip then bursted out into laughter. You know you shouldn’t, yet you shouldn’t have expected anything less. He perked up, and smiled at your infectious laugh. You crawled over to him, sitting back on your knees. You cupped his face, bending down kissing him softly. Pulling away, Rosinante looked at you as if you brought upon his salvation, as if you were an oasis in the desert of his life.

“Are you okay?” You asked, still concerned about him.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Good.”

Still holding his face, you gently drew him with you, urging him back on the bed. He listened to your silent command. You fell backward, scooting up the bed while he slowly crawled over top of you.

“Are you sure?” He repeated.

You threw your arms over his shoulders, bringing him down. “Yes, I want you. Like I said, scars and all.”

His heart melted. He kissed your nose. His hand slid down your side, sending ripples of anticipation. He guided your leg over his hip. He gave your thigh a quick reassuring squeeze. He will happily take the lead in this dance, he will ensure you are cared for. There will be no misstep.

He lowered his hips, brushing the tip of his cock over your dripping folds. You shivered at the size and warmth of him. He teasingly rubbed through your folds and over your clit, enjoying how his precum mixed with your first orgasm. Your nails sunk into his skin. Crescent shapes adorned his body with more marks to come.

“We’ll take it slow, ok?” He whispered.

“Ok,” you mumbled, beginning to lose yourself all over again.

He reached down grabbing the base of his cock, and slowly pushed the head of it in. You bit the inside of your cheek. It stung. The stretch was unlike anything you had experienced or felt.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he spoke, reading your expression and feeling the tenseness of your body.

You panted, ”Keep going.”

You wanted this.

Listening, he pushed in further. A sharp hiss left your lips. You clawed at his back, red ribbons added to the jagged pale scars. Rosinante almost stopped, fearfully he was hurting you too much.

“Don’t stop,” you begged. The sting had begun to subside as pleasure whisked you away.

Rosinante again listened to you. He may lead this dance but he had a partner he must be attentive too. You whimpered, shutting your eyes and adjusting to his size. Your heel dug into the meat of his calf, pleading him to keep going. With one final push, Rosinante was completely in filling you to the brim. He panted heavily over top of you. He watched as your face contorted from minor pain to absolute pleasure. Opening your eyes, you were met with pure unfiltered love, a culmination of months upon months of locked feelings, of denial and heartache.

It was finally all unburden, and unchained.

Breathless, you both stared at each other unmoving. Neither of you could. You both desperately wanted to stay here, to preserve such a memory and feelings. He filled you, your senses utterly overwhelmed by the sensation of him. And your body welcomed him in return.

It was as if you were made for each other.

Rosinante hid his face in your shoulder, exhaling shakily. Shit, I feel like I could come right now.

“I’m going to move now,” he grunted into your neck.

“Please.”

Taking a deep breath, he slowly moved his hips. His thick cock dragged through your walls before thrusting back in.

You whimpered.

“I got you,” he whispered. “If anything hurts, tell me.”

“Just - just please don’t stop.”

He let out a breathy chuckle. His hips increased in speed, spurring stars to burst in the corners of your eyes. Your mouth hung open as a silent moan spilled out. His cock stretched and filled you leaving nothing but pleasure in its wake. You wrapped your other legs around his hip, clinging to him. You were immediately becoming drunk and desperate on such pleasures. And Rosinante wanted to give you everything, to have you consumed by pleasure. He curled over you, pressing his forehead against yours. Lifting your hips, he hit a new angle, deeper and far more intimate.

“F-Fuck, Rosi,” you moaned. You clawed harshly at his back. An apology sat on your tongue, but every thrust left you mewling. You could only babble his name or curses.

Rosinante glanced down, seeing your stomach bulge at the size of his cock. “S-Shit, sweetheart,” he moaned. “You’re taking me so well. Look.”

You peered down. The debauchery sight left you speechless. His hips slapped deliciously against yours. Your stomach bulged every time his cock disappeared back in. And when he pulled out, you saw how his cock was slick and coated with your mixed juices. Not to mention at this new angle, the tuft of his snail trail rubbed wondrously against your clit only furthering your pleasures.

Fuck.

Whimpering, your head fell back into the bed. You bucked your hips, matching his thrusts. Rosinante whimpered, almost unnoticeable. “Fuck, just like that.”

He grabbed your hands, prying them off his back and pinning them to the bed. His fingers interlocked with yours, and squeezed your hands. He captured your lips, kissing you sweetly and pouring all of his love into it. His mouth, his hands, were passionate, and yet his hips were so sinful. The trio constantly stole your breath, leaving you in such a messy state.

Breaking the kiss, he smiled down at you. Still boyish, despite the years on him. Hearts danced in his eyes, and you knew you were the same. Every movement, every thrust, every shared breath, every touch - no matter how minuscule - was written with love.

And he was beginning to love watching you squirm on his cock.

He bent his head, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Your eyes rolled back. The stretch of his cock, the grinding on your clit, the swirl of his tongue on your breast, each sensation brought you closer and closer to the edge. Each delicious friction melted your mind, and your body could only react. Your own well-timed thrusts started to waver as desperation sunk into your bones.

You whined faintly, “Rosi, so close.”

He popped off your breast. “I know, sweetheart, come on. Come around my cock.”

You shivered, lolling your head to the side.

“Be my good girl,” he purred into your ear, rolling his hips. “Come on, sweet girl, come on my cock.”

Your walls fluttered around him, warning him. He gritted his teeth, holding back his own pleasure. He needed to feel you come first. He snapped his hips with new fever, hitting the perfect spot. You gasped loudly. Blinding pleasure covered your senses. Rosinante saw your beautiful reaction and continued to hit the same spot over and over. His pace was unwavering, he needed to see and feel you come.

“Make a mess on me,” he moaned.

You tightened your grip on his hands, digging your nails into him. You squirmed and writhed on his cock. You whimpered as your orgasm approached quickly. Rosinante groaned in your ear, whispering such sinful things. You bucked your hips up just as he snapped his hips, and it all came crashing down.

Shutting your eyes tight, you walls clamped down as you cried out his name. He kissed you, swallowing up your moans and cries. He then kissed your cheek where a tear glided down, to your forehead, and finally nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “I got you, sweetheart.”

His hips continued to pump into you, letting you ride out your orgasm. It was a beautiful sight. Your body convulsed as pleasure consumed you and as each additional pump stole your breath. Your eyes fluttered open to see your god still hovering above you, giving you everything.

But, it was his turn now.

“Fill me,” you muttered weakly drunk on pleasure.

“W-What?” Rosinante’s eyes widened and his hips stuttered at your words.

Freeing your hands, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You dragged him down pecking his lips. “I want to feel you, Rosi,” you whispered.

His cock twitched inside of you.

“Please,” you begged softly. You arched your back, trying to take him deeper. Your hands glided down his back, pressing into his chest. Your hands roamed touching his scars, the ones you had memorized only moments ago. Your thumb grazed over his nipple, making him hiss. You nibbled on his ear, “Fill me, Rosi.”

His jaw clenched. He kissed you heatedly, pushing his tongue inside to re-explore your mouth. His large hands grabbed your hips, most likely bruising them in the process. But, you didn’t mind. He guided your hips, matching his new pace with more vigor and unrestraint. You moaned, drawing your nails down his chest.

A mere taste of this side of him was addicting. He could be loving, but he could be a monster. A monster you wished to learn in full some day.

Abandoning all his resolve, he pumped wildly into you. He couldn’t help it. Your words let a fire inside of him, and he had been holding back for so long. He muttered out an apology, afraid he might be hurting you. Yet, you took it all. You smiled up at him as he used you.

“Please, Rosi, I want to feel you,” you moaned.

He shuddered. Fuck, how could someone so sweet be so sinful? With a few more deep thrusts, he came, moaning out your name. He slowed down his pace until he buried himself deep within you, coating your walls.

Just like you asked.

Taking a second, you both stared at each other sweaty and out of breath. Rosinante carefully removed himself, and you squirmed at the abrupt emptiness. He rolled off of you, flopping onto the bed. But, he snatched you up, bringing you with him. You yelped, surprised by it. He settled you onto his chest, and your shock vanished. Sigh deeply, you nuzzled into his chest savoring this moment. A lazy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, listening to how his heartbeat slowly evened out. His fingers soon skimmed up and down along your spine.

It was peaceful, it was heavenly.

You each shared one thought: mine. Each of you unbeknownst to the other swore the same vow, to always make sure the other smiled and is to be loved for eternity. Perhaps, later down the road, such vows will be spoken aloud. But for now, you kept these secret promises to both of your chests.

Unfortunately, serenity was short lived for you. A thought, a more drastic one, occurred to you. Lifting your head, you nervously said, “Rosi? I - I think there’s still one thing we should at least talk about.”

He hummed, peering down at you.

“… like how are we going to tell the others? Especially Law?”

Rosinante flinched. He sighed heavily. His arms wrapped around you, firmly drawing your head back down. “We can worry about that later, I just want to stay right here a bit longer.”

You smiled, cheeks warm. You buried your head back into his chest whispering, “Ok.”

Your eyes spotted a scar near your face, specifically the one by his heart. You began to trace over it, memorized by the feeling and knowing you alone could do this.

“I like them,” you admitted quietly.

His heart skipped. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “It means you survived and you’re here.”

With me.

He gave you a gentle squeeze. His lips brushed over your hair, kissing the top of your head. “And I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Closing your eyes, you smiled and kissed his scar. “Good.”

*****

“Law, please!”

Law huffed as Evelyn tugged on the back of his shirt. She had called him after his shift, asking him to come over. He wanted to go home, and into his bed, but she kept insisting. He agreed, however, as time dragged on doing little to nothing at her home, he decided to leave.

And for some reason, she decided to join him.

She begged the whole time to turn the car around, to go somewhere else, but he kept on driving home. He didn’t care, she could catch a ride back to her own home. Once parked, Law hopped out of his car, marching up the driveway with her bizarrely pleading.

“Look, I’m tired and …,” he paused, spotting a familiar car. One he didn’t see at her home, but oddly was parked here. “Why is she here?”

Eve flinched.

Law peered over his shoulder, staring down at her. But, she avoided his piercing gaze. He glared at her obvious guilty expression. She knew something. “What do you know?”

She blurted out, “Nothing!”

He tsked, “Lair.”

Law shook off her grasp then opened the front door. Stepping in, Eve quickly darted around trying to push on his chest but to no avail. Law walked further into the home. He didn’t see anyone, and nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Where …,” his voice trailed off when he stepped into the kitchen. His eyes instantly spotted something on the floor: a shirt and bra.

Eve whipped her head around. Her eyes widened at the pair of clothing, both shocked and happy for you.

Law’s face, however, scrunched up in disgust at the thought of what his dad had been doing. He huffed, clicking his tongue, “Idiots better not have done anything in the kitchen.”

Scanning the floor, he luckily couldn’t find any pants which brought some relief. Sighing, he spun around, heading back towards the front door.

Eve blinked, “Wait, you’re leaving?”

“Do you want to stay and find them?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

She blushed, “Um, no … not really.”

“Figured, now let’s go.” He glanced back at her. “You can buy me dinner.”

She gasped, “I will not.”

“I’m driving, so either you stay here and find them or you pay.”

She pouted and grumbled, following after him. However, Evelyn sent you a kind thought as she left.

I’m happy for you.

#one piece #donquixote rosinante #corazon #one piece corazon #one piece rosinante #op rosinante #rosinante corazon #donquixote corazon #donquixote rosinante x reader #rosinante x reader #corazon x reader #fem!reader #afab!reader #x reader #smut

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kesujo · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 4 - Miss All-Night

Previous chapter here.

Having finished his transformation now for a week, Kang Seojun didn’t really feel particularly different. Although he could definitely feel the physical improvements at times, he didn’t really feel as different as he thought he would. So, as a way to experiment with the physical limitations of his body, Seojun conducted various experiments and discovered a newfound love for running.

Before, it felt like he could barely run a few hundred meters before starting to feel his relatively unathletic body start tiring out. But now, that feeling simply never came. No matter how much Seojun ran, that feeling of muscular fatigue or that squeezing tightness in his lungs and chest and the shortness of breath just never came. What replaced those feelings was the rush of wind on his skin, the blur of the surroundings, the pumping of his legs as his feet propelled him forward bounds of steps at a time. It was that great initial feeling of running, but prolonged for minutes, hours on end.

But that was about the extent of the changes Seojun felt; there was no aura of confidence that he had suddenly developed similar to the ones Taeyeon or Yeoreum had. Kang Seojun’s third encounter with a succubus just confirmed that the only changes in his body were physical when she landed right next to him as he was tending to the garden surrounding Taeyeon’s house.

“Oh, pretty!”

Seojun screamed in a way that was much too feminine to his liking, his body jumping a good few feet away from the demoness who was currently tucking her wings back into her body.

“Are you Taeyeon’s newest servant? Kang Seojun, right? Is Taeyeon home?”

“Y-Yeah, nice to meet you—Taeyeon said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning…”

This was the third insanely beautiful woman he, in his previous life, would’ve never suspected would even talk to him, much less address by name. She stood about a good few centimeters taller than Taeyeon and, as sexy as Taeyeon was, this succubus was even more so. Maybe it was her considerably curvier body, the slim waist accentuating her bigger bust and wider hips, her legs striking the perfect balance between having substance and being slim. Maybe it was how fierce her eyes looked, or how luscious and plump her lips were, or how creamy her skin looked, or how unabashedly she showed off all of her assets, her shorts leaving miles of legs on full display and her top showing a good eyeful of cleavage.

The second sign that the transformation did little to change the way his brain worked was how quickly he felt a tightness in his pants just from looking at the brazenly, dangerously sexy succubus shooting him a sweet smile, a sharp contrast to her alluring appearance. “Ooh, it’s nice to meet you! My name is Tiffany; I heard really good things about you from Taeyeon.”

Seojun almost jumped when Tiffany confidently walked forward and gave him a quick hug. In that split second, his suspicions were confirmed when he felt her well-endowed bosom press quickly but firmly against his own chest through the light shirt he was wearing. Even the bubbly Yeoreum wasn’t this forward and friendly … something about Tiffany seemed a bit different than the other two he’s met. Her appearance, her actions, even her manner of speaking somewhat … what was it?

“You know, I want to taste this infamous delicacy of semen for myself.”

Seojun felt like he could’ve done a spit take if he had any water in his mouth.

Such straightforwardness was definitely not a typical South Korean attribute … that was it! Foreign was the right word. This difference Seojun noticed in Tiffany compared to the others was that Tiffany seemed a little foreign, Western especially. Maybe American—not that he really ever met an American face-to-face.

“May I?”

“Wha-What? Right here?”

Seojun was so taken by surprise that he couldn’t even think straight, blurting out the response before Tiffany’s giggle and reply made him realize how stupid his words were. “No, silly. We’ll go inside. Unless you’re into that kinda thing. I don’t mind.”

“Oh…” Seojun felt his face heat up in embarrassment. In that moment, how dumb he felt was beyond words. Of course, Tiffany meant—wait, what? She didn’t mind? As in, having sex outside, in the open? That idea … while horrifying in its own right, stirred inside him a deep kind of excitement, especially considering it with this spunky, overly friendly, aggressively sexual demoness.

“But, I mean, it’ll be more comfortable inside, on a bed, a few hours in.”

Seojun blinked a few times. “What? A few hours in?”

Tiffany laughed. “Yeah!” While she was still a few centimeters shorter than Seojun, the way she grabbed his hand and led him back inside exuded supreme confidence, similar to Taeyeon albeit with a bit more of a friendly energy. If Seojun were to describe the difference, Taeyeon gave off more of the ‘kind but stern mistress’ vibe whereas Tiffany gave off the ‘fun-loving fuck buddy’ vibe. “I hope you’re ready for a long night,” she said, having sped them right into his bedroom, throwing him onto the bed and straddling his waist with a demonic, seductive expression on her face, “because tonight, I’m not letting you sleep at all.”

Seojun’s brain had trouble processing the words, even as Tiffany threw her skimpy top off. He thought he understood one of the caveats of Taeyeon’s contract with him, that he agree to have sex with any of her succubus guests, and again thought he had a firmer grasp of it when Yeoreum came along and became the second woman he fucked. But being faced with Tiffany, who so brazenly arrived and threw herself onto him—or maybe it was more accurate to say that she threw him onto herself—made him realize that maybe he didn’t fully grasp just how lucky of a person he was.

But there was still one thing he was hung up on. “W-Wait—” Seojun finally found the strength to say those words as Tiffany was just about to rid him of his last article of clothing, herself already fully in the nude. The succubus stopped, her sharp gaze feeling like it pierced straight through his head and into his soul.

Tiffany seemed fully intent on following through with her last few words, meaning that she did a quick evaluation of him and determined she wanted him that badly? Taeyeon, on their first encounter, mentioned something about him ‘smelling’ delicious; maybe Tiffany could sense it too? Seojun tried not to let it get to his head, that all it took was a few seconds before one of the most strikingly beautiful and sexy women his eyes ever had the pleasure of landing on to become so thirsty for him that she wanted to go all night with him, but it was damn near impossible. Still… “U-Um, when Taeyeon tried to do something like this, I ended up passing out after not even an hour. I finished my transformation so it might not be as big of an issue, but the whole night, I’m not sure if I can last…”

Although it was a twinkling laughter that flowed from her lips, the fierceness of her gaze never diminished. It was quite amazing, really. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I promise, you will.”

The words, spoken with such confidence and command, seemed so much like a directive to be obeyed rather than a spoken statement of faith that Seojun felt he had no choice but to believe in her. How, he had no idea—all he could think of at that moment was Tiffany’s warm hand, her slim digits wrapping around the length of his rock-hard cock.

A low, melodic hum of satisfaction emanated from Tiffany’s throat as she gave the erect penis a few pumps, the swollen tip already oozing with precum. “You smell so fucking delicious,” she said in a near whisper, her eyes locked onto the shaft pushed flush against the palm of her hand. “Fuck, I can’t wait for you to pump my pussy full with your thick cum.”

Seojun let out another shaky breath, the arousal in his system feeling like it was causing his blood vessel to burst at the seams. He only had a few chances to look at her ass and already couldn’t take his mind off it; through her form-fitting shorts, its nice, perfectly round shape was perfectly accentuated by the tight cloth and her wide hips. Just the thought of it caused his dick to twitch inside Tiffany’s firm grasp, precum now flowing freely onto the backs of her fingertips.

This was another thing Seojun noticed changed about him; his body seemed to release semen in much greater quantities, which made perfect sense for one who was meant to be a succubus’s primary food source. He could see that it was the case, but never really felt it, so it didn’t phase him at all—that is, until he saw Taeyeon’s pussy dripping with his semen after they had finished a particularly vigorous ‘feeding session’.

But while those effects were minimal on Seojun, it always excited his partner—usually Taeyeon, and now Tiffany. “Wow, your scent is so thick and you’re serving up so much appetizer, you’re really spoiling me.” The succubus licked her lips, her head dipping down and capturing the stream of precum with her tongue. Seojun grunted through closed lips, feeling the wet muscle make firm contact with his erection, feeling it almost snuggle it in its hot embrace as she lapped up the ejaculate, replacing it with her saliva.

When Tiffany’s tongue retreated back into her mouth and she sealed her lips, her throat flexing as the ‘appetizer’ slid down her throat, Tiffany’s eyes closed, a loud hum of approval and primal lust reverberating from her. “Fuck, I haven’t fed off a succubus’s servant for so long, but I’ve never had precum this delicious in my entire life.”

“I-I’m glad,” was all Seojun could muster, wholly unaccustomed to receiving such a barrage of compliments Kang Seojun once again thanked his lucky stars that whatever divine being that was watching out for him blessed him with the ability to live such an extraordinary life.

Tiffany slid off him, kneeling at the bedside, pushing his legs apart just enough so that she could fit between them. “You can be as rough with me as you like,” Tiffany told him with a smile so dazzling Seojun couldn’t even process her words before she enveloped his dick with her mountainous mounds.

Seojun let out a hiss, a pang of pleasure shooting up his spine. The warmth radiating from her body, the pressure being applied to his cock from the huge mounds of flesh, and absolutely impossibly soft texture of her boobs rubbing against the length of his shaft, all of it overloaded Seojun’s brain. Sure, he received titjobs from Taeyeon before, but with Tiffany it felt completely different. The difference in their bust sizes created a much more pleasurable tightness enveloping his cock, the confident smile sitting on Tiffany’s lips as she vigorously rubbed her milk jugs up and down his shaft only adding to the appeal to the whole situation. It wasn’t like his sense of pleasure was amplified like from Yeoreum or was being attacked from multiple places like from Taeyeon, but something about Tiffany’s eagerness and the pure sexiness of her lewd body being used to pleasure him created the sense of a building orgasm more quickly than usual.

“Do you like them?”

Seojun grunted in reply, his fists balled into tight fists, his eyes deadlocked onto her pink, delicious looking nipples sway with the motion of her bouncing tits. “They feel fucking great, Tiffany—shit!”

In a flash, Tiffany released her breast’s hold on his cock and replaced it with her mouth, her plump lips sliding all the way down to the base of his dick with ease, the warm, wet cavern completely devouring the rock-hard cock. Her skillful tongue wrapped itself around the circumference of it, bathing it in another thin veneer of lubricant. Seojun vision was suddenly replaced with the crown of Tiffany’s head, her hair gently bobbing with the up-and-down motion of her head as her blowjob started to rev up in speed and ferocity.

The combination of the sight of her head bobbing up and down on his dick along with the feeling of her lips and tongue gliding along his shaft was devastating, but not enough to prevent him from noticing the horns growing out of her head.

‘You can be as rough with me as you like’

Tiffany’s words repeated themselves in his head, and with that, an idea suddenly popped into his head.

His hands lifted away from his sides and onto Tiffany’s head, directly onto the protrusions sprouting from her head. Taeyeon, for the most part, liked to keep her horns hidden, so Seojun never had a chance to touch them before, so he was a bit apprehensive at first at first contact. However, upon feeling them, he could immediately tell they were as sturdy as they appeared and gripped onto it tightly, getting into the rhythm of Tiffany’s bobbing before adding his own strength into the mix.

Tiffany’s muffled moans crescendoed, Seojun’s roughness spurring the eager succubus on even further. Seojun could sense the impact of his roughness and understood why Tiffany had said those words: it wasn’t just a reassuring statement, but an urging one. Unlike Taeyeon, who was wild in her own ways but never particularly physically rough, Tiffany wanted it. She fed off that energy and responded in kind, her increased enthusiasm demonstrated in the increased vigor of her blowjob. Her movements sped up, his cock hitting even further back into her throat, a subsequent tightness increasing in response to the sucking Tiffany was doing in an attempt to eliminate as much air inside her mouth as possible, leaving the only thing inside her mouth Seojun’s cock.

Seojun barely had the time to warn Tiffany about his impending orgasm before it suddenly slammed into him, a torrent of his seed ruthlessly spraying the back of her throat, sliding straight down into her esophagus. “Fuck, sorry—” he found himself stopping mid-apology, seeing Tiffany’s delighted expression as her throat flexed impressively, not missing a single beat in swallowing each stream of semen as it erupted from the tip of his dick and directly into her digestive system. When his orgasm subsided a few seconds later, the familiar feeling of fatigue struck; although it wasn’t nearly as bad as his first time, he could definitely feel it. So how the hell was he supposed to survive an entire night if he was already feeling weary?

Seojun’s hands came off her horns, Tiffany releasing her lips’ vice grip on his dick. Although her mouth was no longer encasing his dick, he could still feel bits of its lingering warmth in the form of her saliva still coating its exterior. “Wow … Taeyeon always chooses good servants, but I don’t think any of them match up to you,” Tiffany noted, her hand reaching out and giving the stiff member a few pumps. “Maybe I should just live here…”

“Tiffany, sorry, but I’m already starting to feel a little fatigued. I can still go a few rounds, but all night…”

“Oh! Of course, let me fix that.”

Tiffany climbed back onto his lap, straddling his legs with her perfectly portioned ones. Her hands wrapped around his head, and in the next moment, her lips were on his.

Feeling her plump lips on his was just as amazing as he thought it would be. Her fresh vanilla scent wafted into his nose, her hands gently cupping his cheeks, the soft membrane pressed fiercely against his. Seojun, still being a relative novice at kissing, let Tiffany lead, soon after feeling her tilt her head for better access before her tongue came out to prod at his closed lips. He obliged, grunting in surprise at the sudden intrusion of the warm, wet muscle into his mouth making contact with his own tongue. The feeling was so overwhelming—Tiffany’s ferocity, the speed at which everything happened, Seojun barely registered that the feeling of his fatigue was vanishing as more and more of her saliva entered his mouth. It wasn’t until Tiffany pulled away that he connected the dots—was this her Trait? The ability to increase the stamina of her partner through the ingestion of her saliva?

What felt like minutes later, Tiffany released their lip lock, her hands falling onto his shoulders. “Better?” Seojun didn’t even realize his erection flaring back to life until her right hand continued downwards, giving it another few pumps for good measure.

“Yeah.”

Tiffany smiled, patting his cheek lovingly. “Good.” The gesture caught Seojun by surprise; the way she smiled at him, the way she gently patted his cheek … maybe it was just a lack of experience from Seojun, but it felt like Tiffany was acting like he was her boyfriend of a couple of years—or maybe decades, considering her immortality—by now. Even Taeyeon, as warm and kind of a mistress as she was, didn’t treat him with such loving gestures. Was this another cultural difference between the two? “You seem to have caught on pretty quick, so let’s get straight to it!”

She jumped off his lap, turning around and bending over slightly, presenting her shapely, perfectly round ass to him. Her hands reached back and spread the cheeks apart, revealing her glimmering wet folds already dribbling with her own precum, the puckered brown hole sitting atop her vaginal lips. Tiffany’s head was turned around, looking at Seojun completely mesmerized by the sight before him, watching his erection come back in full force. “Like what you see?”

Seojun could do nothing but nod, his throat feeling particularly dry. Sure, Taeyeon always demonstrated supreme confidence, but never did she put up such a brazen display as Tiffany did, showing off her pussy and backdoor with her cheeks spread apart, looking back at him with a teasing yet confidence smirk on her face. “Your—your ass is really nice, and you have a beautiful pussy.”

Seojun lost his virginity about two weeks ago, and despite how much sex he’s had since, it was still hard to get out of the mindset of being in awe of a woman’s body. Maybe that feeling just never faded, or maybe it was because it was Tiffany’s body. Whatever the case was, Seojun hoped that feeling never faded: the tightness in his chest and shortness of breath he was experiencing, his eyes hungrily drinking in the sight as if it was his last, his dick straining so hard against his crotch that he feared it was pop right off. “Thanks, but let’s save the best for last, OK?” Seojun’s gaze shifted up a few centimeters, onto the puckered hole above. Seeing his eyes move, Tiffany giggled. “Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of time to enjoy this pussy tonight.”

When Tiffany started backing up, Seojun felt his heartrate shoot through the roof. Although Tiffany’s boobs were sexy in their own right, in Seojun’s opinion, her ass was easily her greatest asset. In all the few moments he had spent admiring it, never did it occur to him that he would be feeling it up close. But now that it was closing in, the realization hit him all at once: that beauty of a rear end, it’s perfect amount of roundness and plumpness combined with the tightness of the skin and the unblemished whiteness of it, was going to be grinding against his groin. Between the overly-exaggerated bubble butts wielded by Western women and the flatter ones from Asian women, Tiffany’s hit the perfect balance between the two: bubbly and juicy enough to be mouth-watering, but not too much as to seem over-the-top.

“You really like my ass, don’t you?” Tiffany interrupted his thoughts, giggling again.

“I’m—it’s so sexy, I can’t believe that you’re willing to use it on me.”

Tiffany’s eyebrows raised. “’It’?”

Seojun’s facial expression fell in an instant. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”

Tiffany’s tail swished out of her tailbone, covering his lips mid-sentence in a shushing motion. The playful grin on her face told Seojun that his fear-induced outburst was unwarranted, supported further when she said, “It’s fine. Treat me like your possession. I’m nothing more than your fucktoy, your slut, for the whole night.”

While Taeyeon and Yeoreum were on opposite sides of the domineering and submissive spectrum, Tiffany was somewhere in the middle. The way she said the statement was with authority, but Seojun could tell by her voice dripping with lust and arousal that she wanted him to dominate her. And that realization just pushed his arousal to the next level.

Seojun’s hands went to her waist as she slammed her ass down, perfectly aligning his cock to slide right into her tight backdoor. “Fuck,” the guttural groan shotgunned out his throat the tight walls squeezing his cock with a firm grip. It was strange; although the tightness with which Tiffany’s ass suffocated his member made him feel like he couldn’t move an inch, it slid deep into her hole with ease nonetheless. In one smooth, firm stroke, Seojun’s cock fully hilted Tiffany’s ass, her plump ass smacking with a crisp slap against the intersection of his legs.

“Uuh, fuck,” Tiffany moaned in kind, grinding her ass against his groin as she accustomed herself to his size. The friction created from the action sent Seojun straight to the moon; it felt even more heavenly than he could’ve ever imagined. His legs tensed and his toes curled, his grip on the wide hips of the lustful succubus tightening as the pleasure from the one stroke sent such a potent injection of pleasure into his body that Seojun felt his consciousness flicker. “This ass that you’ve been drooling over, how is it?”

“It—it feels—it feels so good, Tiffany,” he panted, his mind so overtaken by pleasure that the ability to formulate words properly vanished. However, even if he could, Seojun figured no amount of description could adequately explain how fucking amazing it all felt: Tiffany’s firm ass creating a delicious amount of friction in his groin, the soft skin of her romp rubbing against the damp skin of his crotch, the walls of her repurposed hole gripping the width of his cock firmly, rubbing against his shaft as Tiffany’s grinding caused his rod to stir about inside her tiny hole like an oversized ladle in an undersized pot of soup.

“Go ahead,” Tiffany’s voice, husky with the feeling of lust and desire, floated into his ears. “Use me. Fuck me like you own me, like my only purpose is to take your rock-hard cock and every last drop of semen left inside you.” Seojun felt his body shuddering, turned on by yet another aspect of the demoness: her voice. Surely if he was still a normal man, he would’ve died by now from a heart attack.

Somehow, Seojun found the strength to pull back, lifting Tiffany’s hips at the same time, before slamming back inside her. “Fuck,” he muttered again, his entire body shuddering with the second injection of pleasure coursing through his veins. “You’re so tight, Tiffany.”

Tiffany soon began helping, lifting her ass up in tandem with Seojun rearing up his cock, and summarily burying his cock to full hilt with such force that the resulting smack! resonated about the bedroom. “You’re filling my ass so well,” Tiffany egged him on, her eyes closed and her head thrown back, lips slightly parted, her soft hair running down Seojun’s shoulders and onto his chest. Her legs wrapped around his tightly, her hands gripping the soft blanket beneath them, her ass and boobs jiggling in response to their fierce connection.

The cool room was set ablaze, the combined sounds of lust and desire filling up the room so completely it bounced off the walls. Seojun’s movements grew fiercer, Tiffany’s body willingly submitting to his every motion: when he increased the voracity of his thrusts, Tiffany accommodated by shifting her position to allow easier access; when Seojun’s lips found Tiffany’s neck, the succubus accommodated by tilting her head to the side to present more of it to him; when Seojun’s hands reached around and upwards to fondle her tits, Tiffany moaned in pleasure and arched her back to allow greater access to them. So accommodating was Tiffany that Seojun found himself completely lost in lust, mind focused solely on his own pleasure, absorbing every sensation Tiffany’s body granted him and every sound of pleasure escaping her lips, using it as additional fuel in his chase of his second impending orgasm of the night. The fatigue from his first release had all but vanished, his body brimming with as much energy as his first time with Taeyeon. Ordinarily, Seojun might’ve questioned why this was the case, but at the moment his brain had no capacity to consider anything else but the curvaceous woman in front of him, desperately bouncing in conjunction to his relentless pistoning.

“You’re so rough, fucking me like a depraved slut addicted to your cock. Treat me more like your personal sex doll, like your cum dumpster, and pour your sticky white honey into my ass!”

Strings of filthy words flew out of Tiffany’s mouth in the meanwhile, her deep, alluring voice pushing him ever closer to the edge. “You want it? You want my semen?”

“Yes! Please, pump me full with your delicious seed!”

“How much do you want it?”

“I need it! I’ve only had one taste of it but I’m already addicted to the taste of your thick, creamy cum! Please, unload everything into my slutty hole!”

Seojun obliged, the tension in his nether regions finally bursting. “F-Fuck,” he muttered, his body shaking violently with the cadence of his orgasm, an even more violent stream of semen bursting from his penis and into the waiting body of Tiffany.

“Oh! O-Ooh, oh god, oh god, it’s so warm, it’s so thick,” Tiffany’s moans streamed out of her mouth as uncontrollably as the semen from Seojun’s dick, grinding her ass fiercely against his groin in an attempt to draw out every last drop of cum from Seojun. Her ploy worked almost too well, Seojun’s teeth grinding and his body shuddering in a second wind, a final few streams of his white milk ejecting straight into Tiffany’s ass. “God—god, fuck, it’s so good.” Tiffany’s chest heaved, the rise and fall of her boobs causing Seojun’s hands to follow their motion. “I actually can’t believe something so fucking delicious exists in this world.”

When Seojun’s orgasm subsided, his panting slowed down, his hands falling onto Tiffany’s legs, his erect cock still wedged firmly into Tiffany’s rear entrance. Although it wasn’t as prominent as before, Seojun could feel it: the beginning signs of fatigue settling into his muscles.

Before Seojun had time to contemplate if he could actually last the entire night, Tiffany unplugged her ass, dribbles of his viscous bodily fluid trickling onto his already damp groin, and looked down at his gradually softening erection. “Looks like you need a bit more help, and I’m close too. Lay down for me, would you?”

Seojun obeyed, Tiffany’s ass following him until his head met the cushiony material of the blanket he was now laying upon. “Try to swallow as much as possible, OK?” Without further explanation, she pushed her soaking wet holes so close to his face that he could feel the damp heat radiating from them. Understanding Tiffany’s intentions but confused as to what she meant, Seojun nonetheless obeyed, his hands coming up to spread her firm butt cheeks aside so as to allow space for his face. With that, Seojun closed the distance, meeting Tiffany’s vaginal lips in a heated embrace.

Tiffany let out something between a sigh and a moan, the warmth of her tits yet again surrounding the hardening member of the succubus’s servant. He pressed his face against her, letting Tiffany’s juices wet his face, deepening his access to her pussy before sticking out his tongue. Yet another moan escaped Tiffany’s lips, cut off shortly after when her mouth became filled with Seojun’s cock. A grunt vibrated against his throat, his grip of Tiffany’s plump ass cheeks tightening, digging deeper into her wet love hole.

Eating out a pussy was something that Taeyeon had been teaching him, the results shining brightly as, moments later, Tiffany’s own orgasm arrived. Remembering her words, Seojun opened his mouth wider, his cheeks soon bulging with the fluid shooting out of Tiffany’s womanhood like a cannon. Try as he did, the sweet liquid started overflowing and dribbling out the sides of his lips and down his chin nonetheless. By the time Tiffany’s screams of ecstasy subsided, the amount of her juices that managed to escape Seojun’s mouth was so large that a noticeable puddle formed on the blanket below. Seojun breathed a sight of relief, pulling his head back, letting his face damp with Tiffany’s juices hit the cool air of the residence, swallowing the sweet-tasting liquid. “How is it?”

“Sweet. Is it supposed to be sweet?”

Tiffany giggled. “Succubae who have lived as long as Taeyeon and I have the ability to control the taste of our cum. Most don’t really care to do so, but with me it’s a different story because of my Trait. Of course, blood is a more potent conduit of transferring life force, but cum is just below it, and I imagine you’d much rather drink something sweet than my blood, whose taste I have no control over.”

Feeling it slide down his throat, Seojun felt another renewed surge of energy. His body felt warm, his senses sharp. Kang Seojun was positively brimming with energy. “So your Trait…”

“Is as you guessed. I can give my partner increased stamina and strength via the consumption of my bodily fluids.” So that’s why Tiffany stated that they would go all night. And with how energized Seojun felt, for the first time since hearing those words, he actually believed that he could last that long. “Now,” Tiffany said, climbing onto the bed. Seojun’s eyes followed her, watching her adopt an all-too-familiar position. “Come and get this pussy.” Tiffany’s eyes twinkled with excitement, her head turned around to look at him, hands resting on either side of the pillow and her tits brushing the surface of the soft material below them. Her knees were planted firmly on the bed, her juicy ass shaking playfully at him, her supple butt cheeks spread by the jet-black tail protruding centimeters above the puckered hole still glimmering with fluid, below both the prize: her slit covered with a layer of precum-stained vaginal lips.

As much as Seojun wanted to sit there and admire the sight of Tiffany on her hands and knees, presenting her ass so daringly and erotically, his desire and lust pushed his body into action. Seojun took but a moment to squeeze the plump cheeks hiding the jewel within, spreading them out properly before plunging head-first into the pussy of the eagerly waiting succubus.

“Fuck, fuck,” Seojun’s moans came out without a second thought, the fleshy walls of Tiffany’s pussy sucking his cock in like a vacuum. In his entry stroke, Seojun found himself pushing his cock all the way in, the swollen tip of his dick bumping against the edge of Tiffany’s vagina. With another satisfying slap! sound, Seojun watched as Tiffany’s ass bounced vigorously at the impact of his thrust.

“Uuh, god,” Tiffany moaned in unison, her back arching even more, the resulting motion pushing her ass even more flush against his groin. “Fuck that ass you love so much well, Seojun!”

Even without Tiffany’s direction, Seojun would’ve done exactly that. At first, his hands were firmly gripping her slim waist to ensure he had enough leverage to keep pistoning his dick inside her, but as he secured himself by wrapping them around Tiffany’s legs, his upper body moved up, as did his hands, eventually resting on her ferociously swaying tits. Tiffany let out another moan of pleasure as Seojun’s fingers quickly found her swollen nipples and pinched them.

Looking back, Seojun might feel embarrassed by how quickly he threw everything else aside, fucking Tiffany with reckless abandon, but at the moment his brain could do nothing else but obey Tiffany’s original directive. Even when Taeyeon played the sub, Seojun understood it wasn’t a go-ahead to fuck with nothing but carnal pleasure in mind; with Tiffany though, he could tell it was all about that, and he allowed himself to revel in it. His muscles felt teeming with life, his every thrust not tiring him but only fueling the next one. With every squeeze of her tits, with every resonant slapping noise her ass made with his quickly moistening crotch, Seojun felt his primal lust grow. Each stroke increased the tension by one knot, and slowly but steadily, his impending orgasm built.

“You’re so rough! Fuck me harder! Pound my pussy more! Yes!”

Tiffany’s words egged him on, his mind lost in a cloud of primal desire and lust, unable to even vocalize his orgasm when it arrived. Despite it being his third orgasm of the night, the ferocity at which his seed unloaded into Tiffany’s eager pussy surprised even himself.

“Oh fuck! It’s so much, oh fuck, oh fuck, it’s so thick! More, give me more!”

The most surprising thing was how after Seojun’s orgasm subsided, not a single bit of that familiar feeling of fatigue hit him. In fact, knowing he just came inside Tiffany’s pussy made him hornier.

“I want to look at you this time when I fuck you.”

It was Tiffany who obeyed this time, the twinkle in her eyes indicating her excitement and lust having not fallen one bit. “I can’t believe I get such a high-quality feast tonight. Or, more importantly, I can’t believe I’ve been missing out in the past few years.”

“Well I’m here now, so have some more!” With the final word, Seojun pushed his dick back inside Tiffany’s love hole. Her face contorted in pleasure again, her eyebrows creasing and her body shuddering as the warm, tight cavern once again took in his cock.

Tiffany’s sex face was just as alluring as Seojun thought it was, and that combined with the sight of her more-than-ample bust bounce with every thrust sent him over the edge what felt like moments later.

“Here it comes—fuck!”

Tiffany’s legs, which were wrapped around his waist, tensed, her hands gripping Seojun’s arms even more tightly as the fourth injection of her meal for the night entered her body. “It’s so hot, fuck, your cum is always so thick!” By the increased sharpness of her voice, Seojun could tell she was on the edge too, so he helped by giving her clit a firm pinch. “Fuck!” Sure enough, the action sent her sailing over the edge, her entire body shuddering violently with Seojun’s as his cock became awash with her juices. As fiercely as the orgasm overtook the lewd body of the succubus, the tightness of her pussy proved stronger than the pressure of her orgasm. Again, as Seojun’s orgasm subsided, he found himself no less fatigued than before; again, he found himself turned on even more from seeing so up close Tiffany’s orgasm, especially knowing it was because of him and especially being able to feel it with his cock still plugging her hole.

On Tiffany’s request, Seojun found himself sitting at the edge of the bed again, Tiffany in his lap but facing him this time. A content sigh escaped both of their lips as Tiffany’s pussy once again welcomed Seojun’s cock, her vaginal lips readily parting for the newly appointed VIP. Seojun’s hands found themselves cupping Tiffany’s bountiful butt as their lips collided fiercely, aiding Tiffany as she bounced vigorously on Seojun’s cock, her boobs pressed firmly onto his chest. Feeling her legs wrapped securely around his waist, feeling her wet lips on his and her wet pussy lips splattering her juices onto his crotch, feeling her moist and impossibly tight pussy walls gliding against the length of his shaft, feeling her bountiful bosom shake with the fierceness of their hot connection and her swollen nipples draw chaotic lines across his own chest, Seojun reveled in all of it. Every part of Tiffany’s sexy body was tightly pressed against him, working in unison to provide him maximum pleasure—and while it wasn’t comparable to how quickly the pleasure multiplied because of Yeoreum’s Trait or how Taeyeon’s Trait allowed him to feel his cock being fucked by multiple holes, Seojun felt that it was probably as close as regular sex could be, if sex with a succubus could ever be called that.

There were no words exchanged this time, Seojun’s removed necessity to breathe allowing the pair to extend their hot makeout session all the way to Seojun’s orgasm.

They moved from position to position, not leaving a single square inch of the bedroom untouched as their copulation carried throughout the night. Cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, Tiffany blowing him while Seojun laid on the bed and watched from above, standing 69, bent over the nightstand, bent over the bed, standing oral, Tiffany on top bouncing on Seojun’s dick, Seojun standing up with Tiffany held in his arms, both facing him and facing away from him, Seojun on Tiffany’s lap suckling her tits like an infant while she jerked him off, Seojun fucking Tiffany with one leg up on the nightstand, even with Tiffany pressed against cold window of the bedroom, and then all over again with the other hole and then with both holes with the help of a dildo or his fingers (or fist, whichever Seojun felt like using).

The entire night felt like a blur, his mind moving quickly from orgasm to orgasm without a hitch. It was during that night that, for the first time since transforming, Seojun felt sweat start to coalesce on his forehead, chest, and hands. However, as Tiffany was feeding him her bodily fluids in various forms throughout the night, that sweat came as a surprise to him considering the fact that he didn’t feel the slightest bit tired.

But what was even more astounding than that was that Seojun never once felt tired of Tiffany’s body. He reveled in every second of it, of being able to feel her curves against his body, of feeling her tight holes massaging his ever-erect cock, of the blissful feeling of unloading another giant load of cum into the eagerly awaiting holes of the tireless, lustful succubus. Seojun had been given the impression that Taeyeon’s Trait was the optimal one for sex, especially after his physical enhancements allowed him to be fine no matter how creatively Taeyeon used her power, but in those few hours, Seojun thought differently. Maybe because it was Tiffany who had the Trait, or maybe the Trait was just amazing in and of itself. But Seojun had not the time nor mental wherewithal to deliberate; after all, Tiffany’s three holes were waiting for his cock.

By the time the sun started to peek above the horizon, Seojun was railing Tiffany from behind while standing in front of the bedroom door, sweat dripping from his brow and onto Tiffany’s back, his hands squeezing the already reddened skin of Tiffany’s previously perfectly white boobs raw.

“Fuck, why does your ass feel so fucking good?”

“To make you feel good~”

“Your pussy—” Seojun was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door, not one meter in front of them, open up. Seojun’s head shot up, his eyes landing on Taeyeon with a … perplexed expression?

“So it is you, Fany. I knew it.”

“Y-Your servant is a God-send.”

While Seojun felt himself slowing down in equal parts embarrassment and shock, Tiffany’s ferocity did not.

“I know, right?”

With how casually Taeyeon was speaking, Seojun figured that it was OK to continue, letting his lust overtake him once again.

“But have you been fucking all night?”

“Yeah!”

Taeyeon sighed, a sound that was more in the vein of humorous disappointment than annoyance. “You always take things too far, Fany.”

“B-But, if you had my Trait, tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing!”

“Tiff, I’m cumming!”

With a final grunt, Seojun thrusted one last time, hard, burying his cock as far as he could inside Tiffany before erupting yet again.

“A-Ah, shit, I’m cumming too!”

Seojun’s grip of Tiffany’s tits tightened as their bodies convulsed in unison, far from being the first occurrence of the elongated sex session, their juices colliding and mixing inside Tiffany until dribbles of it spilled out of her slit and onto her legs.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Which is why you need your own servant!”

After Tiffany’s orgasm subsided, she lifted her head to meet Taeyeon’s gaze, Seojun’s cock still buried to the hilt inside her. “Then, can I make Seojun my servant too?”

Despite being the one who suggested it, Taeyeon’s eyes shot open in clear shock. “What? Wait, are you serious?”

“Why are you so surprised? You were the one who suggested it!”

“Well of course I would, seeing that Seojun would be the first one you’ve designated in centuries! Are you sure you even know how to do the servant ritual?”

“…Well, even if I forgot, I can relearn! I mean, how hard can it be?”

Taeyeon just sighed, Seojun’s excitement and lust slowly dying down as he was finally granted a breather. “True, you shouldn’t—wait, Seojun isn’t your servant!”

“…Yeah…?”

“And you haven’t taken a single break?”

“Yeah—oh!”

Tiffany’s surprised interjection was the last thing Seojun heard. In the next moment, Seojun felt his consciousness being slammed into the ground like a paper bag by a runaway truck, blackness overtaking his body a split second later.

Next chapter here.

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