#The Heavenly Castle

[papabear85artist]

Cassie the rude, nasty, spoilt, greedy, selfish, arrogant, self-absorbed, narcissistic, scheming, cunning, whiny, avaricious, short-tempered, manipulative and loud-mouthed Pink Dragoness from the desolate planetoid Medievilonia 😈 is one of Kairh's most trusted servants and Kudmilla's loyal assistant. She will stop at nothing (not even mud in The Pig's Pen) to locate then obtain most of the remaining Dragons Gold from the basement of The Castle if Heaven aka The Heavenly Castle. She hates Jodie the giant 40 foot Pink Heavenly Whippet due to her being Queen after obtaining most of The Dragon's Treasure, despises Georgette thanks to her successful Ice Cream and Yoghurt business and loathes Queen Kong because of her being much stronger than her. In addition, Cassie is also quite envious of Leila the Big Boar mostly due to her having all the warmth, comfort and the love of her life (Papa Bear) that she will never have. She plots to steal The Dragons Gold, The Heavenly Castle, Georgette's Ice Cream and Yoghurt Co, Queen Kong's massive strength and Papa Bear all for herself usually with the alliance if The Wolf, Coyote, Ferret, Weasel and Raccoon Bandits, Seiya the Dragoness Witch, Spyra the spiteful Purple Dragon, Cyndra the Black Dragoness, her master Kudmilla or sometimes by herself. But her plans almost always backfire due to her own ignorance, often always gets chased away by angry Cows, Pigs, Sheep and Goats before being thrown into a mud pit of The Pig's Pen (much to her disgust) as humiliation then being hurled over one hundred yards away by being butt-bumped by Queen Kong, Georgette, Jodie or Leila into the distance. However, even after every defeat, Cassie is still determined to get what she wants🐻🐮🐷🐕🐲🦝🐗🐶🐄🦍🦆🐘

[iloveabortions]

Sudeley Castle, Gloucestershire (2008) Designed by: Henry

[picspammer]

soft robots >>>>>

Laputa: Castle in the Sky (1986) Rebel Moon (2023)

[lothricsage]

Gertrude, the heavenly daughter (rkgk) 👸🪽

[howifeltabouthim]

'I think you're my death,' she said. 'Let's die together.'

Anna Biller, from Bluebeard's Castle

[orchidooze]

Drew some more Labrynth Servants; couldn't resist trying to draw the maids skateboarding. If I added some cute frills and smaller doodles, it'd make a cute sticker sheet, I imagine.

[tales-from-the-frame]

Howl's Moving Castle by Hayao Miyazaki (2004)

[dietcunt222]

[castlebattleroyal]

at the end of the month i'll start working on a bracket

so until then please keep sending me castles, palaces, forts and fortresses. and please reblog and share this blog with others so we can decide once and for all what the best of them is

[whitecrownsblackthrones-archived]

Chosen of a god so has the god-like powers

Not cool with murder

[rxvera]

Updated both my long term fics, thinking of writing a one shot, but I don't have any good ideas lol, lmk if there's anything you want

[picspammer]

“Put down your roots in the soil. Live together with the wind. Pass the winter with the seeds, sing in the spring with the birds.”

[cliriq]

Небесный Иерусалим

[messymissy]

OH MY GOODNESS WE FED US SO WELL !!!

Good Girls Get Rewarded

Summary: Frank gets tired of you running your mouth and decides to remind you who's in charge. Smutty antics follow.

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 7.5k (holy shit!!!!)

masterlist // join my taglist

a/n: im not ashamed to admit that this fic is the only thing i thought about for three days straight. please enjoy. it is an absolute smut-fest!

warnings: buckle the fuck up bitches, cursing (obvi), all porn no plot, oral (male & fem receiving), fingering, pet names!!!!!, p in v sex, praise kink, size kink a little??, frank is so mean at first lmfao, lots of teasing, spanking, frank gets called sir a lot lmfao, reader is a brat, physical violence (this does not transfer to the smut!!!), i am probably forgetting so many pls let me know what i need to add!

“How’d you get this number?”

Frank’s familiar rasp was even more apparent over the phone, a tingling revelation that sent a shiver up your spine. He was in a sour mood, and you were itching for a fight. It was the perfect way to end your evening.

“Oh, c’mon, Frankie. You know I can get whatever I want whenever I want.”

“How could I forget you’re such a spoiled princess, huh? The fuck you want, princess?”

He spat the last word at you as if it were an insult. Good. He was angry, too.

“Did I catch you at a bad time? I was just admiring these pretty curtains. They designer?”

Annoyed resolve rang through in Frank’s tone as he replied. “You know I don’t know what you’re talking about. You gonna make me ask?”

“Sure, honey. I think you’ll want to know the answer.”

You smirked, eyes roaming the living room you were currently standing in the middle of. If only Frank could see you now.

He huffed. “What curtains?”

“These blue ones in your living room. Did you pick them out, or was it that Karen Page with her over-eagerness to please you?”

“You leave her the fuck out of this.” He paused, and you smirked at yourself in the mirror as the realization of what you’d said was processed fully by Frank. “You’re in my fuckin’ house? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He was already moving. Even if you hadn’t been able to hear the hitches in his breath as he barreled his way across Hell’s Kitchen, you’d know he was coming. Your plan was working. You were ecstatic.

“Cat got your tongue, princess?”

“Clever.” You hummed, running your tongue over your teeth. Since you’d first met Frank, he’d managed to throw a cat pun in your direction during every interaction you’d had. He claimed it was because the newspapers were calling you the Black Cat, but you thought it probably had something to do with the latex suit you wore. He never could keep his eyes off the curve of your hips. “Lazy, but clever, I suppose. I’ll allow it, considering the spontaneity of this phone call.”

“How kind of you.” Frank spat, and you resisted the urge to giggle over the phone. He had to be getting close, now. He’d come bursting through the door at any second. Your muscles were giddy with the thought of finally being challenged.

“You know I love chatting with you, darling, but I’ve got to run. I have a thing. Ta-ta!”

You hung up the phone, placing it on the counter and angling yourself so that you could see the front door. You weren’t exactly sure how angry he’d be that you broke into his house, but you wanted to at least seem like you had the upper hand when he charged through the door. You waited, anticipation building until you could no longer stay still. You began to pace, nervous and giddy at the same time, and of course, if you’d just been a little more patient and quiet, you probably would’ve heard the creak of the window opening behind you.

You didn’t realize Frank Castle was standing directly behind you until you backed into him. Your heart thundered in your chest, realizing exactly who was behind you and how he’d managed to perfectly out-do you in your own plan. The hands around your throat shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“It’s fuckin’ rude to break into people’s houses, princess.”

He pulled your body fully against his, attempting to wrap his arm around your neck from behind to pull you into a chokehold. You were a tricky little kitten, though, and you slipped out of his grasp almost as easily as you’d waltzed through his door earlier. Maybe he let you out. Maybe he was curious about your unprompted visit, too.

“You’re one to talk. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to grab a lady like that?”

He snorted. “Lady? Someone confuse you with someone less bitchy?”

“I’ll have you know, I am perfectly fucking civil to most people.” You assured him, jutting your chin out in defiance.

“We really doing this?” He ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw. You eyed the movement and shrugged.

“Eat your fuckin’ heart out, honey.”

You both lunged for each other, your leg rising to connect with his stomach before his fist could connect with your face. He sprang back, unharmed but winded, and caught your leg before it could connect with his chest. You were suddenly on your back, having been thrown off balance by Frank, who was pushing most of his weight down on your hips to keep you from thrashing beneath him.

“You’re rusty, kid.” His eyes were bright and fiery, a combination you’d grown accustomed to during these bouts. You brought your forehead to his chin in a headbutt that would’ve knocked anyone else out completely. Frank, unfortunately, was just dazed for a moment, blinking the confusion out of his eyes before you could make much leeway against his ridiculously strong hold on your hips.

You were, however, able to wiggle one of your legs out from underneath him, giving you the perfect opportunity to pull Frank into an armbar.

“You’re old.” You smirked. Old or not, the best thing about fighting Frank was how incredibly resilient he was. No matter who ended up on top at the end of the night, your pent-up energy was always spent.

He resisted the pull into your hold, though the only other direction for him to go was on top of you. Your breath rushed out of you as he landed directly on top of your lungs, your grip on his arm loosening enough for him to roll away from you.

“Real cute, princess. You break into my house, and now you’re trying to what? Hurt me?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as you coughed and remained on his kitchen floor. He really had landed hard, but you were playing the long game. “Good fucking luck. I’m not an idiot, in case you were wondering. You can stop the act.”

“You sure about that?” You rolled to your feet, pulling your hands into fists and holding them up to block your face. He rolled his eyes again, and even though he looked relaxed - unready, even - he caught your fist before it could connect with his jaw.

“You learn that on TV, princess?”

Your brow furrowed in anger. He was annoyingly good at reading your body language now.

“Actually,” you smiled up at him, face so close to his chest that you could nearly feel his thundering heartbeat, “I learned it from your mom.” You punctuated your insult with a swift knee to Frank’s groin. “I win.”

He hunched forward and you let him fall to his knees on the linoleum flooring. It was a low blow, but you weren’t in the mood to fight fair. He never did, anyway. You pushed yourself onto the counter, watching him breathe through the worst of the pain. You were an asshole, sure, but you weren’t the type to kick a man when he was down.

“You’re a fucking menace.” He grunted, nostrils flaring with anger when he took in your relaxed posture on the counter.

“Oh, please, Frank. It’s not like you fuckin’ use the thing.” You rolled your eyes, flipping your hand through the air in the universal sign for “whatever”.

His gaze shifted from anger to something you couldn’t quite place. You’d seen the look on his face before, but you’d never been able to figure out exactly what he was thinking during those moments. He tilted his head and rose to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on your face. Predator stalking prey. Goosebumps broke out on your skin.

“What was that, princess?” He stalked closer to you, and you were suddenly very aware how cornered you were in this position. To make a hasty escape you’d somehow have to catapult yourself over Frank’s shoulder or burst through what you guessed was a solid block of drywall beside you.

You swallowed thickly. “I said, it’s not like you use the thing.”

Frank’s eyes were bright with delight. Coupled with the teasing smile on his face and the slight tilt of his head, you were a little frightened.

“And you’d know that, how?” He taunted, stepping closer to you. He was in your space now, close enough to touch.

“I know a lot of things, Frankie.” You desperately grasped at the semblance of control you had left. “I know where you live, I know what you order every morning from that diner around the corner, and I know for sure that you. Don’t. Fuck.”

“Oh yeah?” Frank was leaning on the counter now, hands pressed into the granite on either side of your hips. “You think I can’t handle myself in bed, princess? Wanna try it out for yourself?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.”

You didn’t know why you’d said it, or where it came from. Frank Castle was not the man to play games with, especially not these types of games. In actuality, you had no idea who the man was fucking or how often it was happening. You hadn’t expected him to rise to the challenge when you’d teased him about it.

“Is that right, princess?” His eyes gleamed with desire, and you finally realized what the look on his face meant. “Wanna bet?”

He pressed himself fully against you, the hardness of him apparent through his jeans. Your breath hitched against the column of your throat, and you swallowed thickly. You couldn’t deny the steady pounding between your legs, and you slightly widened your legs to allow him more room.

“Yes or no, princess? Wanna learn a thing or two?” His lips ghosted over yours, tongue darting out to lightly lick your top lip in a teasing, playful motion.

Your expectations for the night had been drastically different than this. You’d planned on a physical fight, maybe a black eye or two, and a slew of insults that you’d giggle about until you saw him again. You had not been expecting…this. Whatever this is. They probably existed, but you couldn’t think of a single reason why this might be a bad idea, so you leaned into the feeling that had been steadily growing in your core, and slammed your lips against his.

He groaned, immediately plunging his tongue into your mouth in a desperate, aching kiss. Your teeth clashed against his, but neither of you seemed to notice.

“Fuck, princess.” He mumbled against your lips, angling your chin so that he could pepper kisses down your jaw and onto your throat. You panted, pawing at his shoulders as he nipped the sensitive skin below your ear. “You gonna be good for me?”

“I’m not good for anyone.” You tried and failed to sound feisty. Instead, it came out in a mixture of a whine and a moan.

“You can be good for me, kitten. I won’t tell anyone.” His hands ghosted over the bottom of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He didn’t lift it up yet, and he probably wouldn’t, you realized, until you offered him some kind of consent.

“Only if you ask nicely.” You teased, brushing your lips over his jaw.

He snorted. “That ain’t happenin’.”

A feline grin made its way across your face. “I know.”

He gripped your jaw tightly, forcing you to look up at him as he leaned in close and whispered, “You’re going to be good for me, you fucking brat. Don’t make me say it again.”

Warm delight flooded your stomach, and even though it went against what you believed in, you nodded. You couldn’t think of a single thing you would rather be doing.

“Good girls get rewarded, kitten.” He adjusted his grip on your jaw, sliding his fingers further down your neck. He toyed with the hem of your shirt again, tugging it slightly so that you arched into his chest. “Can I take this off, sweet girl, hmm?” He hummed, running his tongue across your bottom lip.

You nodded again, and the hand around your neck flexed with displeasure.

“I kiss you for thirty seconds and your big mouth suddenly knows how to shut up?” He pinched your hip, eliciting a yelp from your unassuming mouth.

“Fuck yo-”

“Careful.” He warned, arching an eyebrow at you. “Use your words, kitten. I know you know how to be sweet. Be sweet to me.” His lips ghosted over yours, breath fanning across your flushed cheeks. “Can. I. Take. This. Off?” He punctuated each word with a slight squeeze of his hand, still wrapped around your throat.

“Yes.” You breathed, dipping your chin in a single nod.

“Yes…?” He cooed, close enough for you to see the amusement glittering in his eyes. The fucker was enjoying this entirely too much. Still, your core hadn’t stopped pounding since he’d cornered you, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t incredibly turned on by this, by him. You gave in to his question, as much as it hurt your stubborn heart to do so.

“Yes, sir.” You clenched your teeth around the word ‘sir’.

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Or should I call you master? Or daddy? Or maybe punisher? You gonna punish me, dadd-”

His hand clamped over your mouth, cutting you off before you could continue.

“Shut the fuck up. You just can’t help yourself, can you? You’re such a fucking brat.” He pulled your hips flush against his, and you bit your lip to stifle the moan making its way up your throat. He leaned in, centimeters away from your lips as he whispered, “You want to be punished, kitten, hmm? I can do that.”

You were suddenly pulled off the counter and roughly thrown over Frank’s shoulder. The swiftness in his movements made you yelp, anger coursing through your blood at his man-handling.

“Fuck you, Frank.” You gritted your teeth.

His only response was a swift slap to your backside, which was nestled directly over his shoulder.

“You can’t just throw me around like a doll!” You protested, though you did nothing to try and wiggle your way out of his grasp. The man-handling was making you a little hot and bothered, but you wouldn’t be admitting that anytime soon.

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” He grunted as he threw you down on his bed, grasping your legs and pulling you down the mattress until he was towering over you again. He brushed your hair out of your face, a gentle gesture that juxtaposed the usual ferocity of your meetings. His thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, and before you could think twice about it, you opened your mouth and began sucking on it. A grunt, a smirk, the subtle desire lurking behind his intense gaze - all of it was incredibly sensual. “Should’ve known the sweetness wouldn’t last. You’re a brat, through and through, kitten.” You replaced the sweet caress of your tongue around his finger with your teeth, softly biting down on the tip of his thumb in response.

“I like it though.” He mumbled quietly, more to himself than to you. His gaze coasted down your body, catching on the swell of your breasts and the curve of your hips. He looked back at you, having come to a silent decision. “I’m gonna give you another chance, kitten. Does that sound okay, baby, hmm? I want to make you feel good, alright? All you have to do is be good. That’s it. Can you do that for me? Can you be good for me?”

You blinked up at him, his frame so wide above you that it was almost sinful.

“I can be good for you.” You responded slowly, relinquishing your hold on his thumb. He quirked an eyebrow at you, and you quickly added, “I can be good for you, sir.”

His cheeks widened into a smirk.

“You’re already doing so well, sweetheart.” He praised, running his hands along your sides until they met the bottom of your shirt. You arched into him as he pulled the fabric over your head, relishing the gentleness of his touch while simultaneously missing the roughness from before.

He slid the tip of his tongue from your navel to the valley between your breasts, tugging on the thin material of your bra with his teeth. His breath fanned across your chest, bringing a renewed sense of urgency to your aching core.

“Frank.” You whined, pawing at his shoulders and attempting to pull him fully against you. He barely budged, instead choosing to narrow his focus onto your pebbled nipples.

“What is it, kitten, hmm?” He pressed a soft kiss to your nipple. It was through your bra, but it might as well have been to your bare breast, because the rippling heat that washed through your body elicited a breathy moan from your throat.

“I need- I mean, I want- Can you-” The warmth from his mouth around your nipple was scrambling your brain, and you couldn’t begin to function as his fingers began sliding your pants down your legs.

“You need somethin’, sweetheart?” He was teasing you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stay silent about it.

“Quit teasing me.” You whined, and his hands halted midway down your thighs.

“You think you have any control over this right now?” He chuckled, yanking your pants down your legs in one swift motion. “I haven’t forgotten how bratty you were earlier. You keep this up and you’ll be lucky if I let you come at all, sweetheart, and it’d do you good to remember that.”

Desire sparked deep in your core at his tone, and a devilish smile made its way to your face. He eyed you warily.

“Don’t do whatever you’re thinking about doing.” He warned, returning his attention to your breasts. “Behave. Can you do that for me?”

“Can you?”

The words were out before you could stop yourself. It was just so easy to talk back to him. He brought his teeth down around your nipple, biting hard enough to bruise.

“Brat.” He grunted, pushing himself off the bed completely. You whined at the loss of contact, but it quickly turned into a moan when Frank’s rough hands flipped you onto your stomach and slapped your ass hard enough to leave a mark.

“You’ll learn to be good.” One hand held your squirming form beneath him while the other came down in another harsh slap. “I’ll fuckin’ teach you if I have to.”

You moaned, louder and louder with every slap. Sure, you were a menace to the streets of Hell’s Kitchen and, likely, Frank Castle, but you never knew being bad could feel this good. Frank hoisted you up against him, roughly pressing your back into his chest.

“You’ll submit.” He whispered, nipping at the exposed skin on your neck. “I’ll make you. I dare you to try and stop me.”

He shoved you off of him, pulling his shirt over his head as you flopped down on the mattress. You tried to crawl further up the bed, but his hand clamped around your ankle and tugged you onto your stomach again. The position gave him a perfect view of your clothed cunt, which was thoroughly soaked in its current state.

“This underwear is pretty, baby.” He mumbled, running his fingers over the damp cotton. You squirmed beneath his touch, moaning as his fingers brushed against the part of you that needed him the most. “You wear these just for me?”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, arching your back even more to give him a better view.

“Turn over, baby.” He instructed, gently prodding at your hips. You flipped over, splaying yourself out beneath his standing form, panting. “You’re good when you want something, aren’t you?”

“Who says I want something?”

Jesus. Christ. You really couldn’t help yourself. You sighed in disbelief at your own attitude. At this rate, he’d never let you come.

“Watch it.” He brought his hand down, slapping your clothed cunt in warning. You felt yourself clench around nothing, dying to be touched by him again. “You look delicious like this, kitten. I’m dying for a taste.”

His eyes flicked up to yours in question. Even after everything, he still wanted your consent before he crossed the next line. You nodded, and then winced as his eyebrows shot into his hairline and he brought his hand down in a harsh slap, connecting with your pussy again. “Words.”

“Yes. Yes, please, sir. Please taste me.” You corrected yourself, widening your legs.

“All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” He sank to his knees, grinning. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, which surely would’ve gotten you another punishment, and tried to relax against the mattress.

“Look how pretty you are when you’re behaving.” He hummed, breath fanning over the soaked fabric. You whined as your pussy fluttered at his praise. He pressed a soft kiss to your mound, still refusing to remove the fabric simply because he knew it was driving you crazy. “You like it when I compliment you, kitten? Look at how wet you are, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, swallowing hard. You were so turned on it was starting to hurt, but you knew if you complained he would stretch the process out even further. Instead, you leaned into the praise and hoped he’d give in soon. “I’m being good, right, sir?” You asked, legs trembling with anticipation. He kissed your mound again, eliciting a groan from deep within you.

“Yes, kitten.” He smiled against your pussy. “And good girls get rewarded. Right, baby? Hmm?”

You moaned loudly as he hummed against your wet core. “Yes! Yes, please.” You nearly screamed out.

And finally, finally, he pulled your panties down your legs, discarding them in his back pocket. He briefly sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, taking in the sight before him. You were glistening with wetness - so turned on from his words alone that you could quench his thirst for a year with the amount of arousal leaking from your cunt. He grunted, slowly remembering the game he was supposed to be playing with you.

And you tensed, noticing all of this. You may not know a lot about a lot of things, but you knew Frank Castle, and you knew how to read him. You knew exactly what he’d been thinking. For a second, you had forgotten that this was all one giant game to him. He didn’t miss the way your demeanor changed. His eyes slid to yours in question.

“What is it, honey?” He asked, voice still dripping with lust but also with genuine concern.

“I just-” You struggled to find the words, and then tried to sweep the entire interaction under the rug. You wanted his tongue on you, now.  “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Lying ain’t something good girls do.” He arched an eyebrow at you. You whined, pressing your head into the mattress.

“Is this a one time thing for you?” You asked, refusing to meet his eyes as you did so. It would be pretty embarrassing to be sent home in your current state - needy and wet - but not the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. You would not torture yourself by watching his eyes go from lusty to their usual cold demeanor.

“What do you mean?” He asked, running his thumbs over your hip bones.

“I mean,” you huffed, sitting up on your elbows and forcing yourself to look at him, “Will you call me after this?”

Frank’s face morphed into an understanding smirk. “Are you asking me to?”

You glared at him. He pinched your sides again. You rolled your eyes. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll call.” He said, and then his tongue was swiping through your folds, and you couldn’t do anything but flop back onto the mattress again and groan.

He lapped up the arousal that had been leaking out of you since he’d arrived earlier before focusing his efforts on your clit. His tongue drew figure-eights around your clit, sending shocking waves of pleasure through your body, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, you were sure you’d died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so pretty.” Frank mumbled against your clit, sending a new spark of pleasure through you. “It pisses me off how pretty you are.”

“Please don’t stop.” You begged, legs shaking as you wrapped them around his head. His hand, which had been trailing closer and closer to your entrance, finally found its home, buried deep in your pussy. He pumped two fingers in and out of you, all the while sucking on your clit and going back and forth between praising and degrading you. You weren’t sure which direction was up.

“You just show up looking like a fucking goddess,” he punctuated the word with a harsh suck to your clit, “and expect me not to fuck you, princess? You’re begging to be fucked in those tight pants.”

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, sucking at your clit with more ferocity than you thought he was capable of. You were sobbing now, so close to the edge that you couldn’t stop the tears flowing down your temples and onto the comforter beneath you.

“You’re such a fucking brat sometimes, fuck.” He grunted. “But you’re so god damn pretty when you misbehave. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Frankie.” You sobbed, moaning as he sucked on your clit again.

“You wanna come, baby, hmm?” He cooed. “Only good girls get to come, kitten. You think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes! Yes, sir!” You practically screamed it, your entire body shaking with anticipation of your release. “Please let me come, sir.”

“Well, when you ask so nicely, honey.” He shrugged before attacking your clit with his tongue again.

You erupted beneath him, coming so hard your vision blacked out. You could vaguely feel Frank holding your hips in place, but your body was mostly one spark of pleasure after another. Your heart thundered in your chest, mimicking the pounding in your core. Frank squeezed your thighs hard enough to bruise, lapping up every drop of your release, but you were so far gone you barely registered it.

You eventually returned to your body - sweaty, panting, and thoroughly taken care of. Frank was smirking, pressing soft kisses into your skin.

“See what happens when you’re not a brat?” He teased, kissing the valley between your breasts. “Good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been so good for me, kitten.”

“What’s my reward?” You gasped, still a bit hazy from your orgasm.

“What do you want it to be?” He nipped at your jaw, trading between soft kisses and little bites that were sure to leave marks.

“I want to-”

His phone began ringing in his pocket, a sharp and alarming ring that startled both of you out of your hazes. He reached into his pocket and cringed when he saw who it was.

“Who is it?” You asked, curious.

He flipped the phone around for you to see, and you immediately tensed up. Motherfucking Karen Page was calling Frank, and he looked like he wanted to answer it. Your haze was gone now - long gone - and you suddenly felt like crying.

“Answer it.” You taunted, though you thought you might really start to cry if he did.

“I don’t think I’m going to.” He responded, watching you carefully.

“No, really,” you said, attempting to sit up, “She might need saving, again.”

It was a low blow, and you both knew it. It wasn’t Karen’s fault that she wasn’t skilled in hand-t0-hand combat. There was a pattern, though, and no matter how many times she got herself into trouble, Frank and/or Matt were always there to save her.

“Watch your mouth.” He blocked your attempt to sit up, shifting his weight so that he was fully hovering over you. He silenced his phone and slid it into his pocket. “You’re being a brat again.”

Hot, shameful tears welled in your eyes.

“I’m not trying to be one. This is my personality.”

“Crying after the most mind blowing orgasm you’ve ever had?”

“No.” You mumbled, though you couldn’t stop the sneaking smile from forming on your face.

“You’re pretty when you smile.” He said, peppering kisses along your jaw.

“Careful, Frank.” You murmured. “It almost sounds like you care.”

He nipped at your neck, an already sensitive area, and you groaned against him.

“I do.” He said genuinely, pulling back to make eye contact with you. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head about that right now, princess. You’re about to be so cockdrunk that you won’t be able to see straight for a week.” Your pussy clenched as he grinded against you, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your stomach for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“What about my reward?” You hummed, wiping stray tears away. “I still get that, right?”

“How could I forget?” He mumbled, nipping at the marked skin around your breasts. “Princess wants her reward. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want to suck your cock.” You said, straight-faced and innocent, blinking up at him with such softness that he looked on the verge of tears. “Sorry.” You mumbled, correcting yourself before he could, “I want to suck your cock, sir.”

“You’re a fucking angel.” He grunted, pushing himself off the bed and into a standing position again. You followed, reaching for his jeans. He grabbed your hands, briefly stopping them from tearing his jeans off.

“Are you sure you want this, princess? A reward is supposed to be about you.”

You sort of liked the way he called you princess now. Before, when it had been fist fights and anger, it sounded like an insult. But now, the gentle cadence he said it with made your heart clench in your chest.

“I want to.” You nodded, and smiled up at him. “Can I, please?”

He undid his belt with one hand, bringing the other up to cradle your jaw. His hand was massive on your face and neck, a reminder of how insanely large the man standing in front of you was.

“When you look at me like that,” he started, biting his lower lip and slightly shaking his head, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was saying, “I forget how fucking bratty you are. I just want to corrupt the innocent little smile of yours.”

“I come pre-corrupted.” You grinned, the feline smile returning to your face as you looked up at him. “But you’re more than welcome to try.”

You tugged at his boxers, revealing his achingly hard cock. Sucking in a breath, you tried to imagine all of it fitting inside you as he stepped out of the boxers. Your mouth watered when he stroked himself a few times, smearing the precum across the tip of his dick.

“You realize I can’t let another man touch you after this, right?” He asked, eyeing the way your tongue slid across your bottom lip. He shrugged. “You’ll never want another man, anyways.”

“You sound so sure of that.” You murmured, not fully comprehending the words coming out of your mouth. You flicked your eyes up, briefly meeting his gaze before returning to the matter at hand.

“That sort of sounds like that attitude that keeps getting you in trouble, princess.” He raised his eyebrows at you. You quickly rewound the conversation, blinking out of your cock-drunk haze.

“No. No, sir.” You shook your head, desperate to get your mouth on him. “Can I? Please?”

“That’s what I thought, baby.” He murmured, tucking your hair behind your ears. His hands traveled around your head, pulling your hair into a ponytail at the base of your neck. You slid off the end of the bed, sinking to your knees in front of him. “Go ahead, sweet girl.”

You wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and kissed the tip. He let out a slow breath as you grew bolder with your mouth. His salty pre-cum smeared across your lips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging your tongue through it. He groaned, tightening his hold on your hair.

“I want you to fuck my throat, sir.” You murmured, looking up at him.

“You keep looking at me like that, I ain’t fuckin’ anything. Those fuckin’ eyes of yours are gonna be the death of me.”

“Didn’t realize you were so quick to-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” He warned, arching an eyebrow at you. You grinned, stifling a giggle before wrapping your lips around him again. You pushed your head further and further down his cock, hollowing your cheeks and sucking as you went. When your nose brushed against his pubic bone, he let out a stunted moan, slightly thrusting into your throat.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you bobbed your head up and down with more fervor, begging him to fuck your mouth harder and faster.

“You look, fuck-” He couldn’t stop himself from groaning, which spurred your movements on even more. “You look fucking amazing like this, princess.”

You hummed with acknowledgment, hoping it was enough for him to keep thrusting into your throat. Tears freely streamed down your cheeks, surely smudging the eye makeup you’d put on before you left your apartment earlier that night, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Frank Castle was sliding his dick down your throat, and you were so turned on you could probably come just thinking about it.

Frank suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a trail of spit connecting your lips to him as he panted. “‘m gonna come if you keep doing that.” He explained when he noticed your furrowed eyebrows.

“Want it.” You breathed, reaching for him again. He instead pulled you to your feet in front of him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Another time, princess. The first time you make me come, I want it to be in your sweet little pussy.” He winked. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed how good you’re being.”

He pulled you into a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth. You groaned at both the praise and the intensity in which he kissed you. Both set your insides on fire. He led you backwards until your legs hit the bed, and you couldn't help but nip at his bottom lip when he tried to pull his head back.

“Good girls don’t do that.” He smirked, pushing you lightly so that you’d flop onto the bed again. He ran a hand over your cheek, smudging your makeup even more before running two fingers along your bottom lip. You caught on, slowly wrapping your lips around his fingers and lightly sucking. “You’re not good, though, are you, princess?”

You shook your head. His eyes had darkened again, sending a familiar pounding to your core. Your legs trembled as he began to inch his fingers in and out of your mouth.

“You can be.” His voice had lowered considerably, barely above a raspy whisper. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, princess. I won’t tell anyone.”

You whimpered, sliding your tongue around his fingers. Your skin was on fire, and the longer he stood there staring at you with those lusty eyes, the wetter you became.

“Can I fuck you now, princess?” He asked, transfixed on the fingers he was sliding in and out of your mouth. “You gonna be a good girl and let me ruin you?”

He pulled his fingers from between your lips, gripping your jaw tightly. He watched you, waiting for a response. You almost nodded, making the same mistake you’d made countless times already, but caught yourself at the last second.

“Yes.” You said, swallowing. “Yes, sir.”

“Lay back, princess. I’ll take good care of you.”

You laid back and widened your legs for him, noticing the twinkle in his eyes as you complied with his demand. If you were in your right mind, you might’ve said something witty or bratty to him about it, but he was towering over you, cock hard and ready to fuck you into oblivion, and you wanted him so badly. You groaned when he began running his fingers through your slick folds, already trembling.

“This all for me?” He asked, circling your clit once, twice.

You nodded, forgetting yourself for a moment, and yelped when his hand smacked your bare pussy. It didn’t hurt. In fact, you felt your pussy spasm in response, but you’d been so lost in how great his touch felt that you hadn’t realized you’d broken a rule.

“This all for me?” He asked again, rubbing your clit roughly with the heel of his hand.

“Yes! Yes, sir!” You whimpered, legs trembling when you felt the heavy weight of his cock resting on your pussy. He used it to slap the slickness a few times, eliciting a whine from deep in your chest. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you might actually die.

“Who does this belong to, baby? Whose sweet pussy is this?” He asked, smacking your pussy with his cock again.

You froze, knowing the answer he was looking for, but wondering if you wanted to lower yourself to that level. It was vulnerable to give yourself over to Frank this way, but it also wasn’t as terrifying as you thought it would be.

“Say it.” He encouraged, sliding his cock through your slick folds. “Submit, princess. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Is that a promise?” You taunted, trying not to groan at the friction against your clit.

“Quit being a fucking brat.” He grunted, lining himself up with your entrance. “Say it.”

“Yours. It’s yours, sir.” You whispered, and he buried himself deep inside you.

All the gentleness you’d experienced leading up to that moment was gone, and you couldn’t do anything but cling to Frank’s shoulders as he obliterated you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart.” He hovered over you, kissing, sucking, and nipping at every inch of skin he could reach. He was marking you everywhere - you didn’t miss the implications of that - and barreling into you over and over again.

“Say it again, baby.” He whimpered in your ear, the closest you’d ever come to hearing Frank beg. “Who does this sweet pussy belong to?”

“You, sir. It’s all yours.” You replied instantly, whining as he angled himself and pistoned deeper into you. You could barely think straight, only aware of where your skin ended and Frank’s began. “Fuck, Frank. Sir. I’m fu-” You panted, whimpering, “I’m close. ‘m gonna-”

“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” He murmured, ghosting his lips over your jaw as he pressed kisses to and nipped at your throat. “Cock drunk and needy. You’re so fucking pretty.”

“Sir, can I-” You shuttered when you felt his hand on your clit again, teasing it with rough, slow circles. “Oh, fuck.”

“You’ve got such a dirty mouth, baby.” He grinned, skimming his teeth along your jawline. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He punctuated the word ‘crazy’ with a deep thrust, pressing against the spongy spot deep inside you that would send you reeling. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you trembled around him. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, a sight he never wanted to stop seeing.

“You wanna come, princess?” He cooed, biting the sensitive skin on your throat and kissing the sting away.

“Please.” You gasped. It was the only thing you were capable of saying. You barely registered that you’d forgotten to call him sir, but he was so transfixed with the sounds you were making that he didn’t mention it.

“Princess gets what princess wants.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you steady as he pistoned into you at an indescribable pace. You fell apart beneath him for the second time that night, arching and panting and whining as you fluttered around him. He attacked your throat, jaw, and lips with kisses, licking and nipping at your skin.

“That’s it, baby.” He talked you through the overwhelming pleasure, holding you tightly against his chest as he continued to thrust into you. “You were such a good girl, honey. You did so good.”

You whined, fluttering around him at the praise. “I want another reward.”

In any other circumstance, your demand would’ve pissed Frank off, but you just looked so pretty underneath him. “Oh, is that so?” He asked, eyebrows raising. Amusement rang in his tone, and it emboldened you to keep speaking.

“Yeah.” You gulped, still shaking from your orgasm. “I already know what I want.”

“You’re sounding more and more like the brat I just fucked silly.” He said, gently thrusting into you. “Spit it out, baby. What do you want?”

You swallowed, smiling a little. “I want you to fill me up, sir.”

He paused, pressing his forehead to your shoulder and huffing a laugh. His warm breath sent goosebumps skittering across your skin. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He mumbled, kissing you sweetly.

“I was good, wasn’t I?” You feigned innocence, knowing it would send him closer to his relief. “And good girls get rewarded?”

“Yeah, baby.” He nodded, picking up the pace of his thrusts again. “Good girls get rewarded, and you were the best girl, baby.” He leaned into your hold, lips ghosting over the crest of your ear as he whispered, “I’m gonna fill you up, baby, and you’re going to walk around dripping into your pretty little panties all day tomorrow.”

You eagerly nodded, agreeing with him, and whimpered when he began thrusting into you at a relentless pace. You arched into him, nipping at his throat hard enough to leave a mark. “You’re perfect, baby.” He breathed. “Even when you’re being a brat. Wouldn’t have you any other way.”

His thrusts grew sloppier, his breaths coming in short, stunted grunts as he finally let himself go. His heart thundered in his chest, and you clung to him, kissing across the broad expanse of his body until he nearly fell on top of you in trembles.

You cradled his head against your chest, breathing in unison with him. At some point, his arms had wound around you, which meant you were now wrapped in each other’s arms, limbs tangled together as both of you came down from your highs.

“Holy shit.” Frank said, chuckling. “That is not what I was expecting when you called.”

“You gonna kick me out now?” You asked, half-joking. He tensed against you, lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Don’t be a brat.” He nipped at your skin. “I’m not kicking you out, unless you want to leave.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, sighing deeply. “Of course I want you to stay. I’m a fuckin’ gentleman, kitten.”

You scoffed, though you could feel yourself hiding a smile. “Whoever told you that clearly hasn’t heard you in the bedroom.”

He scoffed in mock-offense. “Are you saying you didn’t have a perfectly nice time just now?”

“I did.” You grinned. “I’m…sorry I said you weren’t good in the sack.”

He looked up, stunned. “Did the Black Cat just apologize? To me?”

You rolled your eyes, huffing. “Yeah, but no one would believe you if you told them.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough, princess.”

You scoffed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think you need to admit to me that I’m incredible in bed and that you were wrong.” He was grinning so wide you had to resist the urge to punch him in his stupid, handsome mouth.

“I’m not doing that.” You shook your head, stifling a laugh.

“Do it.” He murmured, nodding.

“I refuse.”

“Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

You were both grinning at each other now.

“You’re such a brat.” He said.

“That’s what got us into this mess.” You countered.

“Just say it, princess. For me?” He pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Fine.” You gave in, rolling your eyes. “Frank Castle, you’re a sex God!”

He chuckled, pulling you tightly into his chest.

“Good girl.” He praised, kissing you softly.

“Do I get a reward?” You arched an eyebrow at him, smirking.

He smirked back, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Oh yeah, princess. Good girls get rewarded, remember?”

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[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo and your son, Sen, getting into the nastiest fight to date.

"Doman expansion: Infinity Castle!"

You feel yourself floating right side up, then everything shifts and you're suddenly falling upside down. You hit the tatami mats with an "oof!"

Sen's domain is a Japanese-style castle with infinite rooms he can manipulate at will. The domain is infinite and some rooms can lead to nowhere, reminiscent of Satoru's domain. When he and his best friend Naoki overlap their domains, one could find themselves isolated, battling shikigami in various parts of the castle.

Sen and Satoru land on their feet not far from you.

"Yikes," Satoru says. "Pretty crude, if you ask me."

"Good thing I'm not asking!" Sen would say, powering up his next attack. Satoru would move to counter and by now you have a headache and a bruise, and you've had it with the bickering.

"Domain--"

"Enough!" You put your hands together. "Domain expansion: Thousand Heavenly Gates"

The scene shifts and you find yourselves standing on water with a clear sky above you. One thousand torii gates stand tall all around you. Your ex and son feel the rage inside them start to fade away.

Pointing an accusing finger, you scold them, "You two are two of the strongest sorcerers who ever lived. Using your gifts to bicker with each other is some of the most blatant disregard for your stations I've ever seen! I don't want to see another domain used for this kind of stupidity again. Am I clear?"

"Yup."

"Yes, mama."

"Now," you say slowly. "When I drop this domain, you two are going to spend some civil father-son time together. Go get lunch. I don't care where, but on the way back, pick me up an ice cream. Double scoop. Satoru?"

You ex-husband grimaces and has the decency to look chastised. "Yeah, I know what flavor. That swirly one you like."

"Good. Don't come back until you've learned to play nice."

~

Imagine ex-husband Gojo picking you up from girls' night.

Sen goes back to the school dorms at night, so you figured you go out for a few drinks with your friends to catch up. Satoru heard about the event from Shoko and offered to take you home. You agreed and on the way took a detour to your favorite arcade from when you and Satoru were teens.

"Ugh! I swear these things are rigged!" you groan in frustration when the claw game drops the plushie you were aiming for.

"My turn," Satoru says. He scoots you out of the way and focuses hard on the white one-eyed cat you've been trying to get.

In the reflection of the plastic, you notice a slight glow behind Satoru's blindfold.

"No way you're using the six-eyes for this!" You whack his arm playfully, trying to stifle your laughter.

"Don't hate the player, babe, hate the game," he replies. With that, he presses the button and the claw drops. It hits the toy dead center. Closes. Lifts. The two of you hold your breaths.

And drops right into the chute.

"Yes!" you squeal while Satoru retrieves it. His face screws up in a look of contempt.

"Ew, it's even uglier up close."

You snatch it from him and hug it close to your chest. "Don't say that! He didn't mean it, Gege, don't worry."

"You named it already?"

"I named him."

"His face makes me mad for some reason."

"Your face makes me mad for many reasons."

Satoru lightly punches Gege in the face, which leads to you chasing him all the way back to the car, brandishing your new friend like a weapon.

~

Imagine ex-husband Gojo walking you to your front door.

You thank him for the ride and for taking you to that arcade. He doesn't need to know this, but being there with him made you feel like you were seventeen again.

Many things about Satoru remind you of how happy he made you. Even now.

"I'm sorry I acted like that," he says. Your reminiscing means you didn't catch the first part of his apology but you nod like you've been paying attention the whole time. "We're not together any more and I haven't been good about respecting boundaries and I'm sorry."

He blabbers on some more but all you can think about is how this whole apology is exactly the kind of communication you'd been wishing for throughout your marriage.

"So if you're seeing someone now, I get it. I mean, it doesn't matter if I get it or not because it's none of my business but--"

"Oh, shut up, Toru!" Fisting a hand in his shirt, you drag him to your level and kiss him like you’d never get to again.

~

Thanks for reading!

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 .

# with roronoa zoro.

zoro feared the prospect of sex, for his cock was much too large for comfort. you made sure to reassure him on the contrary.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day two. smut (mdni). cock worship. deepthroat. oral (male receiving). afab!reader.

WC: 2k.

zoro was a sizable man. he was neither towering nor lean, more often than not short in comparison to the opponents he faced in the new world. his height remained above average for a common man, yet it was not length that made him; it was width. one had no need for a ten foot stature if the forethought disadvantage happened to be compensated with strength — and that was the one thing zoro did not lack in. muscles the size of a head and a body made for largeness, it was of no surprise that the same statement applied to his cock.

zoro was not prone to over-compensating competition with other men when it came to size, however, whenever the shitty cook was concerned, he was not beyond it either. sharing baths was a common activity, and he’d be caught dead before admitting to checking curly’s length — but he did. sanji was longer; whereas zoro was larger. he figured the other man’s cock would slide easier, cause less struggle, and when such thought traveled to you, zoro’s mood was quick to sour.

his yearning was nowhere near hidden. eyes trailed to your figure; a never-ending hunger; the redoubled effort to protect you alone. wasted months as a pirate-hunter, previous to the acceptance of an offer that would grant him the iridescent value of life, were but a blur of steel and blood; the meaningless pursuit of foreordained woe. a famished beast wielding sharp canines was unfit to claim the passionate touch of another, for it was meant to maim rather than to sooth. yet, under the golden grace of his captain’s command, zoro had become neither a hound nor a fiend. he was the fierce protector; the shield and the sword that soared above those deserving of his strength.

the acceptance of such character had cost him months of lonesome pondering. yearning for one he could not have; finding himself an ogre daring to dream about a deity’s kiss. being separated from the crew had countless disadvantages, but perhaps distance could present a cure for the enchantment you had placed on him.

he was — as expected — wrong.

the castle zoro had been sent to was one of many hallways and rooms, ensuring considerable privacy if one was to disconsider the ghost woman’s antics. whenever he was spent from training, a phantom at night secured under covers, his hand would trail itself to his aching cock, testing the waters; finding what pleased him the most.

you’d then invade his thoughts as though a promise of heavenly bliss. his hands were rougher; calluses born from a life of sword-wielding. his grip was brutal; his pace relentless. the length not fitting quite well around his palm, inches left uncovered. zoro would lose himself in the image of your struggle — tear-stained face and wide-opened mouth, the recurrent effort of swallowing him whole. he’d picture his hands on your head; your nose against his pubic hair. zoro would then rut his hips, pleasure born from the sound of your gagging, muffled by his cock. you’d whine and scratch at the flesh of his thighs; a trail of thin, pale, rose marking the muscles as yours to ruin. glossy eyes aimed at him, spit dripping down your chin. his bliss thereafter would be thundering, and though his load would cascade from his restless palm to his abdomen, zoro dreamt that it was meeting your tongue and face instead; coating your figure with spurs of white.

the act was recurrent. two years coated in training and masturbating. re-encountering you — the muse whose sacredness he dreamt of ruining —, zoro failed to return to the previous camaraderie. he withstood but six agonizing days before claiming your lips on the crow’s nest, the pent-up desire clouding logic. yet, the you from his subconscious — fucked-up, writhing, struggling — proved to be easier to ruin. zoro struggled to convey the idea of doing it so to the real you, meaning that, while your relationship was anything but cold, it wasn’t as passionate as you’d figured would be.

zoro feared his length to be an unwanted monstrosity; an overbearing amount of flesh. you were eager to prove him wrong.

his usual nightwatch approached, accompanied by guaranteed six hours of alone-time with your swordsman. when zoro reached the crow’s nest, a bottle of cheap sake in hand, and found you sitting the couch with a sly glint to your eyes, he seemed conflicted — both fearful and excited. you tapped on the cushion, and he grinned in faux confidence upon his approach.

zoro’s teeth dug on the cork and he spat it out, drowning his nervousness with awful-tasting alcohol. a solitaire string slipped past his parted lips to drip down his chain, a droplet of it resting on his clothed thigh. your fingers gripped the fabric of your shorts, not quite enough to contain the desire.

“how was your day?” he inquired, amused by your reaction.

“solid, nothing worth-sharing,” you rasped, glancing at his lips. “what about yours?”

“it’s better now,” he answered, intonation carrying a smoothness enough to leave you flustered.

zoro grabbed a fistful of your thigh before guiding your legs to his lap, making himself a tool for your rest. another swig; a renewed cascate of alcohol sailing through the rough seas of tanned skin.

“came to sleep with me?” zoro teased, tapping his fingers on your leg without proper rhythm. it was a double-edged sword hidden amidst inoffensive silk; ambiguous inquiry meant to embarrass, for he had never dared to surrender to lust. yet.

“trying to, but you’re a hard shell to crack,” you blurted, fearing the possible loss of bravery.

the bottle hovered mid-path; damp glass meeting chapped lips. zoro held himself with certain astonishment, unplaced doubt whose roots you could not find. he cleared his throat, perhaps pondering on a suitable approach for subject shift. you were swifter, readjusting the angle of your legs in order to sit on his lap.

zoro’s heartbeat was a wild flutter of butterfly wings under the touch. he shuddered when your lips were dragged through the flesh, tender kisses with warm tongue following-in-suit. you resisted the urge to recoil at the bitter taste of sake, smearing your palate as you wiped his chin clean. you blew a gust of air over his earrings, teeth around cheap gold.

his free, calloused palm gripped the covered flesh of your ass, the back of his head resting on the wall as zoro guided your movements; a grunt at the leisure roll of your hips.

your fingers toyed with the hems of his kimono, parting it open. the sleeves hang on his forearms before zoro freed his upper figure from the fabric altogether, allowing it to pool on his hips. your lips left a trail of kisses in its wake, hickeys drawn from his collarbone to the thin, large, scarred tissue on his chest. zoro groaned, muffling a pathetic moan with the swallowing of sake.

your figure retreated, coating his flesh with saliva, adoring the sword-wound who had once been fresh and bloodied, skin relinquishing to another’s blade. the scar was a symbol of his survival; the token of his dream. zoro had not once seen it past the image of strength, unable to convey it as an object worth-loving. yet, your lips held nothing but fondness, and that had been his uttermost undoing.

zoro’s cock hardened, a constant poking under the weight of your ass. his hips rutted after a particular swirl of tongue around his nipple, and he grew desperate; a tender attempt to nudge you away.

your fists clenched around his muscles, face pressed against his chest. you looked up at him, a voice coated in confusion. “what is the matter?”

zoro’s lips parted, yet his voice was lost when a particular roll of your hips dragged your cunt above his aching cock. his eyes trailed down to the covered bulge, breathless at the idealization of what was to come.

“zoro,” you hummed, brushing your cheek against his muscular frame.

“it’s too large,” he grunted, gripping the bottle. “you will hurt.”

you were confused, biting it down. the frustrating hesitation from his part; the absence of lustful touches. for the briefest instances, you were drawn to believe that he deemed you unattractive. yet, all could be resumed by his fear of bringing you pain. it was adorable, although not what you had the need for whatsoever. for there was a looming beast, starved and yearning for a decent prey.

“of course it will,” you grinned, aiming to provoke the creature under the man. “you would be a disappointment otherwise.”

his demeanor shifted, tenderness vanishing amidst a gust of wind. zoro leaned back, drowning down a considerable amount of sake. he raised an eyebrow; challenging, demanding.

“what are you waiting for?” he grunted, gripping the back of your head; tearing your face off his warmth. “get on your knees and work.”

your legs clenched at the command, and your figure slipped to the ground; knees pressed against the harsh wood. your figure arched, so as to offer him the clear sight of your ass. zoro grunted, pressing your face against his covered member.

“don’t make me spell it out for you,” he rasped, curling his fingers in a bruising grip. “strip me.”

zoro made no efforts to aid you in such a task. you undid the knot of his kimono; tugged on his haramaki; removed his pants and underwear all but enough to witness the sight of his leaking shaft slapping against his abdomen.

he was not one to trim. the extension was curved; prominent veins twitching the second you had licked your lips. the tip was of violent swolleness, urging to be touched. the source of previous apprehension shone clearer, for zoro — although not quite as long —, was far larger; enough to stuff your mouth full.

“done watchin’?” he mocked, wiping a drop of sake from the corner of his lips. “all bark and no bite?”

he was offered a glint of faux innocence, your lips parting to produce yet another provocation. zoro had clutched the opportunity then, shoving his member inside, groaning at the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him.

a snap of his hips had pushed his length further, his tip brushing the back of your throat. you gagged, overcome with shock. tears rolled down your cheeks, and you struggled against his grip, a failed attempt at retreat. zoro pushed you back, suffocating your nose with his pubic hair; halting the flux of air with his cock. you moaned around him, squirming under his strength.

“look at you,” he cooed, caressing your chin with his thumb. “wasn’t i the one at risk to disappoint? can’t handle it, can you?”

obscured spots overcame the crystalline tears, clouded vision and an aching head as you were drawn closer to unconsciousness. zoro laughed, pulling you back. your burning chest filled itself with oxygen, desperate gasps and coughs all but amusing him further.

“open up,” he snapped, inserting a thumb inside your mouth and parting your jaw. zoro angled the bottle and poured sake on your tongue, liquid-fire igniting your throat. once he had enough, he pushed your chin up, forcing your lips sealed. “swallow.”

you obeyed, a slap of his cock meeting the side of your face. he teased his tip on the entrance of your mouth, gripping your nape. you gave him the desired access, and without an inch of hesitation, zoro filled you with his cock. no longer unused to his largeness, you began with swirling movements of your tongue, wetting the twitching veins; hollowing your cheeks to increase the pressure.

zoro groaned with unthought loudness, raising his hips to force himself deeper. one hand massaged his ball; nails dug on his thigh, scratching the surface, fresh blood pouring from the muscular flesh. his tip teased your uvula, returning to the tip of your tongue before reaching the end yet again. the up-and-down bobbing of your head was a constant; repetitive sounds of your gagging.

spit dripped down your chin, the salt of his essence nudging your palate. zoro chugged down the remaining sake, moaning as he glanced at your tear-stricken face; sweat and spit and pre-cum maiming the sculpture of your being.

“ngh— ‘m close,” he warned, snapping his hips and forcing himself further, uncaring as to whether or not you had relaxed your throat to receive his largeness.

you hummed around him, shutting your eyes in order to appreciate the entirety of his bliss. zoro snarled, snapping. “don’t you dare close your eyes. i want you to see me.”

your lungs burned, pooled tears. zoro was but a hazed image, though you could see the pleased glint in his eyes, the face contorting with the thrill of desire.

“you will swallow,” he stated, his head falling into the wall. zoro clenched the muscles of his abdomen, offering you a clear sight of his bobbing throat. “you’re close to passing out, aren’t you? i will fuck you unconscious if you do.”

you whimpered, failing to nod as zoro’s load drowned your throat and tongue. swallowing it all was but impossible, multiple strings of white dripping past your lips; traveling down your chin and throat. the removal of his cock left your mouth oddly empty, and zoro dragged your body to his lap, pressing you against his figure. he placed a hand above your chest, guaranteeing that your heart and breathing were steadying.

zoro’s thumb pushed his essence yet again into your mouth, humming when you offered him the sight of your tongue, stained with his cum.

“not a disappointment at all,” he mused, kissing your temple. “i wonder, does your cunt stretch as much as your mouth?”

— 🐈‍⬛ : zoro fuck my mouth challenge. happy second day of kinktober!