#but whatever forty is pretty young

[lifecaughtinyoursway]

pictures of young hugh grant that are giving me gender envy right now

[elssero]

streamer !

.d.kaminari

♰ nsfw, pro hero denki x f!reader, male masturbation

pro hero chargebolt logging onto twitch on his day off too see his favourite pretty streamer play her favourite games or talk about whatever’s currently trending.

it’s his favourite past time, he spends all week looking forward to his day off so he can catch up on all your streams he missed this week.

he gets especially giddy if you actually stream that day so he can watch it live.

at first his infatuation with you is innocent, your a rising streamer just like he’s a rising hero!! your situations are so similar in that sense, your both adjusting to your new found fame and your both rising the charts of your respected careers very fast.

he admires you! you seem to interact with fans and the media so easily so that he just can’t help but be drawn to you ! it’s not his fault ! but it helps that your exactly his type.

he feels incredibly lucky to be able to catch one of your streams live, your currently around thirty minutes into a just chatting stream, your doing a q&a more so aimed at new fans who don’t know all that much about you yet.

but he knows, he knows you answered questions extremely similar to the ones your answering now in your q&a two months ago but still he can’t help the wide grin that appears on his face everytime you giggle, or at the little smirk you give the camera when you answer a question that could be deemed a little risky.

he watches the whole stream with anticipation, despite being able to correctly guess all the answers your giving, he is genuinely interested in what you have to say, he swears!! it’s not his fault the bludge in his pants keeps growing everytime you re-adjust the way your sitting or when you move your arms to type something on your keyboard and the action pushes your tits together slightly. he’s really is trying his hardest to ignore the growing feeling in his sweats but it’s getting sore !

not wanting to lose control completely he begins to palm himself over the material of his sweats, just slight rubbing down on himself to help the ache he feels from watching you do something as normal as answering a few questions from your fans.

your forty-five minutes into the stream now and a donation pops up with a question that you’ve never answered before, denki immediately straightens up, beyond eager to hear the answer to the question.

“hey pretty! first of all i love your streams but i need you to settle a debate for me! of all the new young heros that have had their debut this year which is your favourite?

you immediately giggle and thank the donator for their donation and their compliment, the question seems to still you for a second, you look deep in thought and denki is on the edge of his seat awaiting your answer.

you suddenly break out into a huge grin and begin to answer the question “firstly i think their all very inspiring! being able to use your quirk to help people in the way they do is very admirable i can’t help but always feel safe when i hear news of yet another save from our hero’s”

denkis breath hitches, he feels like he can’t breathe, you think he’s inspiring. you admire him.

“however, if i had to pick a favourite i guess it would probably be chargebolt” you take a second to think before you continue “i’ve seen a few of his interviews and i would say he’s clearly very charismatic, he seems like he would be easy to get along with!”

he watches in a trance as you giggle at the end of your sentence before taking a breathe and biting down a small smirk you say-

“he’s also very cute so that helps too!”

denki swears he could’ve came in his pants right there and then. you just admitted to all of your viewers that he’s your favorite up and coming hero. you just admitted to all your viewers that you think he’s cute.

he’s scrambling to reverse your stream to hear you say it again, to make sure he isn’t dreaming, when he hears it come out of your mouth for the 3rd- no 4th time he’s sure he isn’t hearing things.

he feels like he’s going feral, you his favourite twitch streamer, someone he’s been watching from afar getting his rocks off too for months just said that he’s your favourite. just like how your his favourite too!

his dick twitches in his sweats and he doesn’t even hesitate to take it out like he normally does, any guilt he’s ever felt for touching himself to the idea of you is completely out the window, he wonders what you’d think if you saw him now, your favourite pro-hero scrambling to get his dick out while he watches your stream… would you enjoy it? you did say you thought he was cute… maybe you would enjoy it.

the thought has him almost drooling. his dick is twitching in his hand as he moves his hand up and down his cock at a pace he’s never done before. he’s so pent up that he feels like a teenager again, quickly jacking himself off in search of a realise he knows is already approaching.

he’s moaning at this point, completely drowning out what your now saying.. something about your outfit? he doesn’t know but what he does know is that you looking absolutely breathtaking while saying it.

he wants to last he really does but he can’t help it, not when your looking into the camera like that, almost like your looking directly into his eyes, encouraging him.

he thinks about it for a second, he thinks about you whispering in his ear, telling him to cum for you.. urging him to finish himself off to the sound of your voice.

he bottoms out with a whine of your name, shooting thick ropes so far they hit his laptop screen, he’s panting, regaining his breathe as your voice starts to become more clear from the foggy state he was just in. he doesn’t feel guilty, not like he usually does, instead he feels a sense of pride.. or maybe contempt?

he clips the part of your stream when you talk about him, adding it to a file he has saved “my favorite streamer<3” he cleans the cum from his laptop as he fully calms down, head still a little spacey from the moment he just had. his phone is blowing up with notifications, hundreds of tweets tagging him in the clip that someone had already reposted, in just a few minutes it’s clear that people think positively of what you’ve said about him with many people agreeing and he feels that all familiar sense of pride.

you notice it too, you gasp at the sudden rise in viewers, thanking everyone for their support and ending the stream abruptly. normally he would feel a little disappointed but nothing can move him from his high right now. he waits a couple minutes in a state of awe, he can’t believe it. truly.

just as he begins to stand up, deciding to order a little victory take out for himself he gets a dm on twitter from an account he follows.

yn: hi chargebolt! i’m not sure if you’ve seen the clip circling around but i wanted to send you a quick message to apologise for any trouble it’s causing you or your team! if you need me to put out a statement i’m happy to do so, all the best!”

okay now he can’t believe it. you just dmed him, mere minutes after he’d came like a sexually frustrated virgin to your stream, he’s convinced he must be dreaming, but the once again growing tent in his pants proves that he’s not.

chargebolt: “don’t worry about it sweetheart, there’s much worse things that i could be dealing with today, i don’t think i’ll need you to put out a statement but i’d happily treat you to dinner instead?”

[konigsblog]

older simon kidnaps johnny’s girlfriend ✊🏼🙁

getting a ride from older-simon riley.

tw/cw; rape/non-con, kidnapping, age difference/gap. simon is aged mid-forties, forced pregnancy MDNI 18+

simon riley has been in the military for a whole decade more than johnny what has. he's had his dirty eyes on you, eyes that have seen nothing but graphic gore and crimson blood, gunshots through people's skulls and hearts.

you had visited the base and ever since that one day, he couldn't get you out of his depraved mind. he's inching closer to his mid-forties and the crave for a young, energetic woman is only intensifying as he ages, especially after meeting you. the only thing preventing simon from taking you was your boyfriend, although soon, that would quickly change.

you're like a puppy; you're energetic and brighten his mood, lift the atmosphere inside of a room full of sulking, mourning men. your laugh sends shivers down his spine, sucking in a sharp breath as he admires you from afar. simon had been eavesdropping on a conversation between you and johnny. you had discussed your plans to go to a bar with your friends, to have a couple drinks together before you'd get a taxi home.

simon decided that he'd change your plans and would instead ‘invite’ you over to his house, whether that sounded like something you were interested in or not. after a couple drinks, you stumbled out of the bar all alone after your friend had gone off with another man, probably to have sex in some cheap, sketchy motel down the road. but simon was more focused on you, who stumbled to his window, asking for a ride so sweetly.

oh, he'd give you a ride, that's for sure.

perhaps something got lost in translation, you thought as you shook uncontrollably and violently. you weeped through your drunken, intoxicated state as simon bounced you up and down on his muscular hips, groaning out painfully at the tightness of your wet and sloppy cunt around his swollen, big cock. you had tape over your mouth to muffle your screams and cries and your wrists were tied with rope to prevent you from wriggling away out of his perverted grip. you choked on your tears and screams for mercy as simon thrusted up into you, the tip of his lengthy cock slapping against your gummy cervix with each bounce.

“that’s it, baby. quit cryin’, y’know you’re enjoyin’ it, just givin’ the pretty girl what she wants.”

it didn't matter if you gagged, wailed, or screamed out for forgiveness for whatever you'd done wrong, he wouldn't stop until he got his fill. simon was inching closer towards his orgasm, to pin you down against the cold basement floor to fuck his hot ropes of creaminess into your sticky and bloody slit. your phone was smashed into pieces in the corner of the room while he forcefully impregnated you, claiming ownership over the pretty doll tied up in his basement.

[torasplanet]

being bruce wayne's controversially young gf is probably such a handful. with all the paparazzi, and new reporters and don't even get me started on that whole batman thing...you'll never forget the time you discovered the batcave in the middle of the night and neither will bruce. you were just sitting at the computers next to Barbara in your silky rope with a frown on your face just ready to yell at him for not telling you.

but that's not what we're here to talk about. we're here to talk about that little munchkin damian.

see at first, he didn't really like you. you were there before him but he still didn't like you very much in all honesty. the other batkids took a liking to you, some quicker than others (dickie) but they still liked you and told damian that you were cool and everything but damian found it disgusting how his father would date someone as young as you.

you were only in your twenties but considering bruce's age being early forties... he thought it was weird. damian was one of many who thought it was horrible until he didn't. you don't exactly know what made him switch but you weren't complaining well...sometimes you were because of his clinginess but you loved him too! damian was attached at your side the moment he started to like you and it was hard to get him away.

you always defended damian especially when he would go back and forth with bruce, which by the way he hated, but it didn't matter the topic because you'd still back him up. "father, school is a waste of time. training is far more important." "yeah! dami is too smart for that."

but don't get him wrong, he still found the age gap horrifying but it was more toward bruce than you now. as time went on, he stopped caring about it but he acted as though he did. damian is just a hater tbh.

anyways, back to him being the clingiest son ever! during galas, you are never seen without the middle schooler at your side either silent or talking to you about something he is passionate about. bruce thinks its cute and plus it makes the public not hate this relationship more but when damian actually needs to do things at the galas, it's pretty annoying for him...

"todd insisted that i play uno with him and the rest of the former robins and it was quite interesting. especially when todd jumped at grayson for cheating." damian ranted in your ear while standing at your side as you sipped at your wine glass carefully listening to him unaware of your boyfriend approaching.

damian noticed before you did and his silence made you confused "damian, you cannot stand next to her all night." bruce said with a sigh and his son only narrowed his eyes at him "why not? i don't find talking to these other wealthy families any sort of intriguing." damian argued while you only smiled brightly at the fact that he found you interesting!

"that doesn't matter, you still have duties."

"well ummi–[y/n]..." damian stuttered clearing his throat in embarrassment as the conversation seemed to go silent. bruce looked at you and you were close to dropping the wine glass because of how happy you seemed so he swiped it from your palm quickly. "...she doesn't seem to mind at all." the boy continued before looking up at you.

you barely registered him looking at you. you were just too happy about him referring to you as his mom!! even if it was just a slip-up. "oh yeah! i don't mind at all and you can call me whatever you want dami! i don't mind that either." you shrugged while rocking back and forth on your heels and damian seemed to be relieved with that but he quickly cleared his throat again and looked at his father with a careless expression.

"well, we'll be going now. grayson is better company than you anyway." damian said grabbing the glass from bruce's hand and grabbing yours with his other before beginning to walk away. you looked back at bruce and silently screamed to show your excitement. i guess he can let it slide this one time...because he was just as happy.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[yanderestarangel]

HIGURUMA HIROMI X FTM READER

A/N: I hated the end result but I decided to post it anyway, I love Hiromi and I needed to write about him lol ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

TW: porn plot, praise kink only, soft!dom hiromi, blowjob, masturbation, v!sex, cumshot, smut, daddykink, age gap, dilf!hiromi (+43 y), dirty talk, fingering, aftercare, vulnerable!kink

"I'm old enough to be your father... I don't know how you agreed to go out with me."

The words were out of his mouth before he realized ── He was your lawyer, but also your friend, Hiromi was forty-three years old and you were young in his eyes, you were still in college! But that didn't take away the fact that you were an attractive and intelligent boy in his eyes.

And he... He was an old man with a midlife crisis.

You just smiled saying that you had no problems with his age and that he was a gentleman with you ── which was true, Hiromi already had white hair appearing in his locks just like his face was marked by age, but he was still extremely charming, Mainly the lean muscles behind the expensive suit the lawyer always wore, inside or outside the law firm.

Which made you have all kinds of thoughts, except the pure ones.

You arrived in front of your hotel giving him a seductive look, smiling behind your lip gloss as you faintly saw a shy erection in his pants; you softly spoke a sweet excuse for him, inviting him to go to your suite to discuss some papers for a new process that you needed his opinion on... Obviously it was a polite lie.

He was left speechless as he looked at you. The way you said it was really seductive, almost like you were giving off a sweet yet lustful aura to him. He wanted to fuck you. He was so attracted to you, perhaps because of how cute and pretty you looked.

He gulped, and he finally spoke once more:

"Y-Yes... I'd gladly come in so that we can discuss it..."

While your heels made noises on the marble floor, the old man followed you as he looked at your ass in the short silk dress you were wearing. He couldn't resist any longer. He needed your touch, your warmth, your sweetness... The elevator's small space made it easier for him to lean in and kiss you fiercely. Your lips felt so soft, and the feeling of your body against his made him even more aroused.

The lawyer then used his finger to tease your clit while kissing you passionately, enjoying the sensation of your wet pussy against his hard cock.

"Such a naughty boy..."

He whispered in your ear, loving the feeling of you grinding against him and the taste of your lips.

"Goddamn baby boy..."

He then slid his finger in... Oh, it felt so good. You were so tight and wet, it turned him on even more.

"Are you sure you want this?"

You moaned into his lips, feeling his clothed cock against the damp fabric of your panties, you whimpered like a desperate puppy as you begged him in a muffled voice.

"Holy hell, you're so tempting..."

Higuruma was taken aback by how submissive you sounded. He loved it...the way you sounded like you wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you. Especially since he knew you enjoyed being dominated.

"Alright... Let's go inside...soon, you'll have my dick deep inside your pussy..."

He growled at you as he followed you into the room. As soon as he closed the door, he kissed you deeply and roughly, dominating the moment. Your silk dress was ripped off by the older man's rough, calloused hands, you were exposed and vulnerable to his hunger ── His eyes wandered down to the seam between your thighs, your cunt glistened in the dim light of the hotel suite as you whimpered to be touched by him, you were a pretty and submissive little thing to him now.

In the confined space there was no more rational and polite Hiromi; but rather a man who needed release. You saw him quickly take off the belt that held up his pants, lowering them next to his underwear and making his member spring free in front of your face ── it was long with a medium thickness the base of his cock had trimmed hair while along the shaft the veins pumping blood pulsed, a faint pink color adorned the pulsing tip and already dripping with pre-cum ── as you felt the lawyer's fingers tangle in your hair and bring you closer to his crotch.

"You're so fucking hot. Suck it, now baby prince."

You wrap your lips around the cock of the man in front of you, tasting the musk that makes you moan and vibrate against his flesh ── you sucked his cock slowly, looking deep into his eyes. It was an intense experience for him.

"Good boy... Keep going, baby prince... Make sure my cock is clean."

He demanded, watching as you looked up at him. The sight of you sucking him off drove him insane, but he wanted to make sure his cock was clean first. After all, you deserved the best he could offer.

"Fuck ya', take it all in... Suck Daddy's cock...you love it, don't you?"

He pushed his entire dick at once, hitting your throat and making you choke, he grunted softly, pulling himself out of your oral cavity again and forcing you to look at him.

His digits dug into your cheek, making you let out a slightly low moan of discomfort.

"Now... Spread your legs wide open for your old man."

He groaned as you obeyed him, spreading them and showing off your wet pussy. He was almost ready to fuck you hard, but there was something else he wanted to do first.

"Touch yourself for me, doll boy, I want you very relaxed for daddy's dick ya?"

Hiromi couldn't believe how much you turned him on. Seeing you masturbate while lying on the bed was enough to make him explode, but he knew he had to hold back. He wanted to make sure you would cum, too.

"Spread your legs wider... That's it... F-Fuck, you're so sexy..."

He praised you, rubbing his cock slowly while watching you touch your pussy. The sight of how wet you were just made him harder.

"Keep going... Make yourself cum for Daddy. Oh- fuck- God, I want to see you squirt for me..."

But you couldn't bear that torture, you needed to be penetrated by him soon, to feel every inch of the older man's cock in your body ── So, you started to beg pathetically, rubbing your fingers even harder on your clit, desperate for him to grab you hard and make you cum; "please" requests came out of your mouth they sounded throughout the room making Hiromi smile and pin you to the bed with his weight, his lips attacked yours in a raw and hurried kiss.

"Alright, little boy."

He growled before he positioned himself above you, his dick already at your entrance. He took your hand and removed it from your pussy, admiring how red and swollen you were. You felt his fat tip enter your overstimulated hole with a pleasurable burn that made you arch your back and hold onto him tightly ── thanks to the suit top he still wore you held onto the rough fabric of his blazer, as you felt every inch of his shaft fill you and kiss your uterus.

He groaned as he slowly thrust inside you, feeling your pussy muscles squeezing his cock, it was as if it were heaven. He knew he wouldn't last long, he hadn't had sex in years and you were so beautiful and tight, like your body was made for a good fuck with him.

"God, your pussy feels incredible. I won't last long if you keep grabbing me like that boy... fuck-! Open that pussy wider for daddy."

The man with spiky black hair took his hand to your little cunt opening your labia with both fingers and watching how his cock was moving in and out of your body with difficulty, even though you were extremely wet for him. The sight made him moan and look at you beneath him even more desperate for an orgasm ── he captured one of your soft breasts in his mouth as he hammered hard on his hips his cock into you lightly biting your nipple at the end with a wet pop.

"Fucking hell- you're so cute when you're desperate to cum. That's it, baby boy... Be a good boy for Daddy..."

He moaned as he continued thrusting into you, feeling your pussy contracting around him. He loved the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered to him.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, you won't ever want to leave my side."

He whispered in your ear, his voice filled with lust and desire. He knew he was in control, and he wanted to make sure you remembered this night forever.

"Cum for me, baby... Cum hard, you deserve this ok? Pretty boys don't think about making a mess, they just cum, cum for me please."

Hiromi's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more intense and powerful. He wanted to push you over the edge, to bring you to the brink of your orgasm. You felt a strange burning in your core, much more intense than normal, then you felt your body shake and your pussy squirt on his cock and abdomen, getting a little dirty on the dress shirt he was wearing.

Hiromi on the other hand couldn't hold back any longer as he heard your sweet moans, feeling your pussy tighten around his cock. The sight of you squirting on his cock pushed him over the edge, finally pulling out of your pussy, his cock slick with your juices ── his hand caressing his throbbing member. His eyes locked with yours as he started stroking himself, his breathing becoming heavier.

"Look at these pretty tits of yours... They're just begging for my cum, just begging to be fucked."

He continued to stroke himself, his hand moving faster and faster, until finally, he reached his climax. His hot cum sprayed onto your breasts, coating them in his release. He saw your skin painted with sweat and his sticky cum, leaning down to take one of your breasts in his calloused hands.

"You did so well, lad, you truly deserved every drop of your orgasm for being a good boy for me."

The lawyer leaned over you and gave you a calm kiss on the forehead, carefully wrapping you in his arms and closing the distance between you.

You really didn't know what your relationship would be like after such an intense encounter... But it didn't matter at that moment, At that moment you were just his boy, and that was what mattered.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

[anemonelovesfiction]

20~ Age Gap

So’lek x Fem! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: P! In V!, fingering, unprotected sex

Part two to this

Not proofread

MDNI 🔞

It’s the last day of Heatwave In Pandora and I’m saddened by this but also excited for having been a part of all of this with y’all. Thank you so much for those who participated and enjoyed my stories as well!

Word count: 2.2k

To say I was embarrassed about what happened during just before the comet’s raining across the sky was an understatement, I had been completely mortified of the situation, I’d basically masturbated in front of So’lek, and I think he did too? But the fact that I had been caught talking in my sleep- like I do most nights- had been too much for me to attempt to show my face around him again. I’d practically grown to avoiding him during any situation possible.

He’d attempted at steering my mind in the opposite direction that night by helping me draw giant penises on my coworkers masks, making sure each of them had a different kind of drawing on it. And the comets also helped for the time being, each of them pretty much being wished upon as they flew past us in a beautiful shimmer.

But another reason I had to learn to avoid So’lek was his age. He was in his forties and I was only twenty two, I was undeniably too young for him- and not even the same species. That was a considerable age gap and I’m sure the reason he doesn’t have a mate is because everyone in his clan had perished, but had any woman from his clan caught his eye, I’m sure he would have been mated with children by now and I’m certain he doesn’t even tolerate me to begin with- I’m human!

I’d been avoiding having to come into contact with him, strategically avoiding all of the areas he frequents, ensuring that I had something to do far from our base whenever they had their meetings -or went up or down on a different level when it was raining- and when all else failed and he was near I either ignored him or found a way to push someone else into his direction to hold a conversation with him. It was pretty easy considering Priya was a chatter box, she often went off on tangents, and did very well at allowing me the perfect amount of time to escape.

But today was a different day. Priya had gone on a patrol with Anqa while all of the Sarentu were busy doing some kind of training quest without So’lek, and here I was trying to look into a way I could quickly disappear while being in his sight, finding it futile to find a hiding spot and not being able to find a single one I give high hopes that Eywa is listening to my prayer that he wouldn’t need anything from me only to be proven wrong.

“You and I need to talk.” He stated as he stands directly in front of me, arms crossed and his hip tilted to the side, he looked so babygirl, but I couldn’t even think to laugh at a time like this. I could feel the adrenaline starting to course through my bloodstream and I felt jittery.

“In private.” He adds after having looked around before staring right at me. I could only gulp and nod at this moment wondering why the great mother would betray me at my most vulnerable moment, I can see So’lek turn around and motion with his head for me to follow him, and like a lost puppy with my head hung down in defeat, I do.

It hadn’t taken us long to reach the fourth floor which housed all of our rooms. I’d ended up spacing out long enough to pass him before looking up and realizing he was behind me, turning to face him and realizing I’d cornered myself between a wall and his body. Damnit.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asks without beating around the bush and I start to think of a million excuses in my head, opening my mouth to spew whatever first bullshit lie could come out, closing it as he speaks again.

“Don’t lie to me.” He states as he crosses his arms waiting for my answer and I couldn’t help but chew on my bottom lip.

“I was embarrassed.” I admit and cross my own arms to try to shrink into the wall, my room was just around the corner and if I bolted I think I could make it, but I looked down instead.

“Why?” His voice is deep and holds me captive as I stand there looking like an idiot and shrug.

“If you have forgotten already I joined in too. You saw the evidence on the ground.” He speaks so steadily that I’m tempted to look up past my lashes but refrain from doing just that.

“Thats not it- well mostly- but not all of it.” I pull myself closer together and pray to Eywa that I could disappear at this moment to walk away from the conversation but feel his finger underneath my chin, lifting it up and forcing me to look into his eyes.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asks once more and I couldn’t stop the shiver from running down my spine.

“I know you won’t reciprocate my feelings, I’m too young for you, and I’m not Na’Vi.” I stated honestly and want to look away but can’t find it in myself to do so, only for him to throw his head back with a chuckle, I could feel the embarrassment creep up on me once more and anger from him laughing at me.

“Whats so funny?” I asked with a huff, wanting to hit him on the arm for laughing at me.

“I do not care that you are tawtute nor your age. You are old enough to make decisions for yourself and you can choose if you want me or not, that is what matters to me.” He responds and seems genuine for his answer and it causes me to freeze.

“What are you saying?” I asked as the confusion was settling over my features, brows lifted and furrowed together, eyes searching his for clarification.

“Must I show you?” He asks simply and I’m still confused.

_________

He sits me onto my own bed as he kneel’s before me, being taller than me even if I’d been standing, he cranes his neck down and captured my mouth with his, his hands on my hips as he slowly shimmies my pants and underwear off in one go, tossing it off elsewhere without breaking the kiss. His hands returning toward my thighs as he squeezes them gently, his tongue inserted into my mouth as soon as I gasp, my own moan following after.

Our tongues don’t battle for dominance as I knew he’d win, his massaging mine as our lips toss and turn for him to do whatever he wanted to me, I didn’t even know how wet I’d gotten until he’d inserted a finger into my cunt and it slid right in. Another moan slipping through my lips as I lean my body back for him to get a better angle, finally breaking the kiss.

“So’lek~” I moaned right as he inserts a second finger easily, I’d thrown my head back at some point, lifting it back up to see him looking right at me with a smirk.

“Wipe that smirk off your- f-f-fuck,” I cuss as he moves his fingers swiftly in, caressing my sweet spot the entire time he’d gone in, my head lolling back and eyes closing as I attempt to focus on the pleasure.

“Lay back.” He instructs and I listen, laying my body back onto the bed while my legs dangled off the bed as did the bottom half of my ass, but I didn’t care at this point as the pleasure was too good.

“Lift your legs up and don’t let them touch the ground.” He stated again, I lifted my legs and settled the hells on the edge of the mattress, feeling his breath on my cunt and constricting myself around his fingers, a dark chuckle rasping through, driving me absolutely wild. His tongue takes a swipe up my cunt and I couldn’t help but gasp followed by a moan as he thrusts his fingers back in.

“Fuck, please go faster-“ I struggled to get out as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of me, kissing my sweet spot periodically and making me thrash my head around the bed, surely adding knots to my already messy hair.

“I want to make you cum.” He mutters before placing his lips around my clit and giving a harsh suck, my hips jumping up at the sudden contact, a wail escaping me as he continues suckling and fingering.

“So’lek, fuck!” I yell out as he runs a stripe along my clit, his rough tongue catching in it and rubbing against it deliciously I couldn’t help but buck my hips upward. A pleasing hum running through his body and from the depths of the obscene noises happening in this room, I could hear a gentle rumble, almost like a purr.

“I’m coming-“ I could feel my eyes crossing behind my eyelids and my vision turning white as I feel myself rhytmically grasping his fingers, his movements never ceasing as he continues to plow through my own orgasm and I could feel myself start to lose my own breath in the process.

“You taste delicious.” So’lek comments as his fingering comes to a standstill, I lift my head and open my eyes even when they felt too heavy to keep open and looked at him with a lopsided grin. He only stares right back at me, taking his fingers out of my cunt, and sensually licking the juices off them. I could only stare at him as my own grin fell, the heat returning to my core as I watched him and heard him continue to purr with approval, I lunged toward him and brought his face onto mine and kissed the ever living fuck out of him, breaking the kiss as I started breathing heavily to catch my breath and placed my hands on the fingers of his loincloth.

“You are eager.” He mutters.

I look up at him and see he’s smiling down at me, I blindly undo the knot keeping his loincloth on as I stare into his eyes as well, the look of surprise crossing his features as he looks down at himself to see his loincloth falling off. His cock coming up to slap him in the stomach.

“I’m efficient.” I corrected him and watch the amusement dance around his eyes.

“How’s about you take a turn on the bed while I play with you?” I ask with my hand on his chest running it down his abs sensually, looking back up at him through my lashes.

“You couldn’t handle me.” He threatens and I take that as a challenge.

“Oh yeah?” I asked with a brow lifted as if I was taking him up on his challenge.

_________

I bounced on his cock again as I could feel the fire in my belly growing larger, one of his hands had been settled on my hips, guiding me up and down his length, his purring had returned tenfold from the moment he’d slipped the tip in, and here I was taming him and taking his cock like I promised.

“How is it you can take so much of me in your tiny body?” He strains through his teeth as I continue bouncing off his cock not bothering to quiet down.

“P-pu-pure w-will,” I rasp out while continuing my task, leaning my body over to rest slightly as I move my hips up and down his giant cock, close to the edge already.

“So’lek, I’m- fuck- I can’t!” I wail as I feel my clit being brushed against his pelvis every time I slam myself down.

“Let go, I’m right there too-“ He squeezes my hips tight and I look up to him eith my own eyes struggling to stay open, his own eyes closed as he basks in the pleasure I’m providing him, deciding to fight to keep my eyes open to see his orgasm face when a sudden thought occurs to me.

“I w-wanna s-see you,” I rasp out desperately as I slow down in my pace but continue going rough. I feel his other hand carefully caress my cheek up toward his face, his eyes already opened and looking at mine, and with that I come, it took everything in me to not close my eyes but the euphoria I felt dancing around my body.

“Fuck!” He groans out loudly as his hands go straight to my hips, holding me down on his cock as I feel the tip of him kissing my cervix and explode all over my womb, spurt after spurt of come hitting my womb in a way that sent tingles through my toes.

“Holy shit-“ I mutter as I feel my body ramped up into yet another orgasm, feeling entirely spent as my body limply falls onto So’lek’s my breathing heavy as I attempt to catch my breath, the orgasm still coursing through me as my pussy contracts around him, his own purring dying down as his hips slowly push up against mine.

“No no no, wait-“ I begin before feeling his knot forming and pushing into my body, locking us into place for the time being, but I was too spent to fight it anymore.

“I’m sorry yawne, I didn’t plan for this to happen.“ So’lek begins apologizing but I shake my head as I struggle to lift myself for him to see me.

“It’s okay, we’ll just have to stay here for a bit.”

“You do not mind being tied to me?”

“Think of it as our version of Tsaheylu.”

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

he’s the adult supervision, he’s the voice of reason, he’s a cringefail king, it’s Captain Haddock! Quite a few people asked for a timeline post for Haddock after I posted one of Tintin.

I found the whole idea of the Haddock family curse to be very interesting, and the implications behind it to be pretty dark... cw for alcoholism and childhood abuse. Let me know if you need anything tagged.

To figure out the timeline the evidence for Haddock’s age I found was in an animated adaptation of Explorers on the Moon where Haddock mentions he has around forty years of sailing experience. I doubt he was running around on ships as a newborn so that places his age during the canon comics at around 60ish, give or take a few years, which in my timeline places his childhood during the late Victorian era!

Left to right, top to bottom:

Child - Archibald Haddock had a pretty rough childhood and family life. The legacy of the��“Haddock family curse” weighs heavily on him, and so does the alcoholism that runs generationally. His father is often drunk, taking his anger and frustration out on Archibald. Fully believing the family curse, Archibald’s father drills the idea that he is destined for failure into his head. 

Archibald’s only respite is his grandfather, who tells him stories of Sir Francis Haddock and other tall tales from the sea. His grandfather also would take him out on fishing trips, the lochs and the sea being his refuge. 

Teenager - It’s the 1880s and Archibald is left aimless after his grandfather passes away, passing the time by hiding from his father and drinking during the day. He fully believes he has no real future and lets himself get swept up by whatever will come along next.

Young Adult - Archibald decides to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and becomes a sailor, feeling at home at sea. He cleans up somewhat after befriending George Chester as the two train on the same merchant vessel. Chester drags a reluctant Archibald along into all kinds of crazy antics, with Archibald wanting to stay on the straight and narrow.

Archibald is drafted during the First World War, serving in the Grand Fleet. He is stationed at the Orkney and Shetland Islands with Chester.

Canon - After the war Archibald relapses on his addiction again, but is able to hold onto work in the merchant fleet. He eventually becomes a captain of a merchant vessel where his mental health issues are taken advantage of in the Crab with the Golden Claws. 

Seeing his crew mutiny, kidnap (and attempt to murder) a boy on his ship was a major wake up call - Haddock is now imbued with a sense of responsibility for Tintin (even if Tintin seems to handle things better than Haddock!). He doesn’t understand what Tintin sees in him but he’ll be damned if he proves him wrong. He’s not above calling him an idiot when the time is right though.

Post Canon - After Tintin loses his job Haddock does his best to support him.  He uses his wealth to further causes he believes in, donating money to artist collectives and scientific research that was repressed by fascist governments. Before Belgium even joins the Second World War he and the Marlinspike team proactively go out and foil various Nazi plots. Marlinspike Hall is firebombed by the Nazis in retaliation, but after the war Haddock funds various housing cooperative projects. Coming from a working class background he hasn’t forgotten the hardships a lot of people face.

Elderly - At this point Haddock is secure in his found family. He’s been living with his partner Ramo Nash, and has taken up various arts and crafts as hobbies. Looking back, he never expected to be a father, but is incredibly proud of Tintin. He never officially adopts him as a part of him still fears the family curse (plus they both agree “Haddock” as a name definitely does not suit Tintin)!

[wombywoo]

random quinncent tidbit:

Quinn starts going gray fairly young--he's early thirties and already has a few strands in his temples, but it pretty much goes full gray by the time he's forty (if he lives that long teehee 💁‍♀️) It's a combo of stress and throwing himself at death's door far too often, probably, plus y'know..genetics or whatever. Vincent both loves and hates it; he methodically counts the silver bits every time he threads his fingers through his hair, considering them a blessing because his boy is living a full, seasoned life, and a curse because he won't be able to keep pace with it ಥ_ಥ

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Something I never hear anyone talk about in the 'why are Young Adults (late teens to early 30s) reading so much Young Adult (teens) fiction These Days' discussion is how surprisingly difficult it can be to transition from kids books to adult fiction.

And I don't mean in terms of content. Forget themes, characters, plots, etc. I'm talking pure practicality.

As a kid, most of the books you read are calibrated to you exactly. Your local library likely has a 'children's' section, and that section is likely split into smaller sub-sections based on age group. 0-5, 5-8, 8-12, teen. A lot of your interests and experiences are pretty easy to guess at based on average developmental stages (eg. most 16-18 year olds will relate to Coming Of Age stories), so it's probably pretty easy for you to walk into a bookshop or library and find a book aimed at you specifically.

But get to 18 (or younger) and start straying into the 'adult' section, and suddenly nothing is calibrated anymore. When people complain that all 'grownup fiction' is about white middle class heterosexual couples going through angsty divorces in their mid-forties, this is what they're complaining about. They can't find books they can personally relate to, or that are about topics that they are interested in.

And yeah, sure, books shouldn't have to be relatable to be good or enjoyable. But there's also nothing wrong with wanting to read a book about young people, when you're young. Or queer people, if you're queer. Or people from your particular culture, religion, or ethnicity.

Even if we ignore the relatability aspect entirely, there's also nothing wrong with wanting to read a fantasy book that isn't just 'Tolkien but drearier' or a sci-fi that wasn't written by some guy in the 1960s who thought that women were just another kind of alien.

The problem is, fundamentally, that finding the books you like amid the haystack is a skill that most people are not being taught.

As a result, when they get past YA and try using the old tricks of just picking up whatever is on the bestseller list at the moment, or whatever their local library is currently touting as their 'book of the week', they frequently end up with something that isn't suited to their tastes.

And maybe they love it and it opens up a whole new genre that they'd never considered, but more often they hate it but feel obliged to slog through because this is a 'grownup book' and they have decided they want to be a 'grownup reader'.

A few times being burned like this, and they come to the conclusion that all adult fiction is boring, and that the people who read it are all either mature geniuses of the type they could only hope to be, or slogging through like they were and only pretending to like it.

Thus they run back to the familiarity of YA—which is fine, to be clear, there's nothing actually wrong with reading YA as an adult— but there's every chance that somewhere on the bookshelves is a potential favourite author of theirs that they will now never know because they were never taught how to find them.

[goldustwomun]

will we talk? (j.p.)

pairing: bodyguard! james potter x baker! reader

summary: it was only meant to be a one night stand-- a pretty fucking amazing one night stand, but one night nevertheless. so when your dad informs you of a bounty on your head and beloved bakery, you expect just about anyone in the world but james to show up as your newly appointed bodyguard. he doesn’t even fit in with the decor!

warnings: allusions to sex (minors dni!!!), swearing, mentions of a sketchy job (drugs, arms, trafficking etc. u kno the drill w/ obscure mafia stuff), very very hot james xoxo

wc: 2.9k+

note: guess who’s back! (back back) back again! (again, again). anyway, hey :) i had random lines written for this for over a year & tbfh first yr of uni was great and then shit and then really shit so i had no desire to write, but i want to try!!! i really do!!! please, <3 comment & reblog <3 it means the world to me & literally every writer out there! excited for u all to read this :)

Some might say it’s obscene to be sat at a bar, three vodka cokes down, when it was only just past 7 o’clock. The sun still stared pointedly down outside the window, streets bustling with people only just starting their commute home. And sure, any other young adult might have used this opportunity to meet some friends, have a quiet night in, maybe text that one guy on Tinder they’d been putting off meeting– something, anything to fill the awkward lull in time that wouldn’t be too much of a regret the next day.

Some might say it’s obscene, but you like to think it’s just another Tuesday.

The problem with Tuesdays is that more often than not, Wednesdays tend to follow. And it was at noon on the dot that you’d have to make your forty-minute bus ride downtown (a mistake in itself when all anyone could smell was weed, piss and something else indistinguishably rancid), into the one office building that seemed to substantially out-tower the others like some sort of architectural pissing contest, only to sit in front of your Dad and his ever-overpowering bluntness.

And it’s not like you despised him with every molecule in your body– rather, a few molecules here and there. He loved you, that you were certain of, but owing anyone money, your own father especially, made relationships uncomfortable in a sticky, sweaty, clammy-hands kind-of-way. He had always been an immovable figure, suspiciously mafia-esque, even, but of course, you’d never dare broach the subject.

So, Dad, Pa, Father dearest– are the rumours true? Do you really run an underground boxing ring? Or is it arms? Drugs, maybe? As long as it’s not human trafficking, I’ll still love you!

Some things are better left untouched. If ignorance was bliss, you were determined to remain in whatever liminal state of unknowing you’d been in your entire life.

And while he kept to himself and you did to, the last Wednesday of every month, noon on the dot, was not to be messed with. You’d learned that the hard way when you’d missed one during a particularly harrowing cold. It’d been like a SWAT team smashing through your apartment windows when you’d forced her eyes open.

So instead, you gulped down another glass of scathing liquid, all but gagging near the end at the acidic taste of un-mixed liquor swirling around the bottom of your glass.

It was Tuesday, after all, and you hoped if you drank enough, there would be a chance you’d be able to zone out tomorrow– a sweet spot you’d yet to master (somewhere between mildly hungover but still coherent enough to please him).

“What is that– your fourth? Fifth?” A voice questioned alongside a scratch of the bar stool to your left. It was deep, curious, deliciously rough– enough so that your mouth quirked behind your glass, bracing yourself for the face attached to such an addictive timbre.

“Third, actually–” you turned, finally taking in the tousled, black hair, crooked nose with rounded glasses perched on top of them, “--have you been counting?”

He had a kind of all-consuming appearance. Dark yet boyish when you noticed how his smile leaned one way, and a slight chip in his front tooth. An athlete, maybe? You were going to thank whatever misguided angel, deity or God herself had brought him to you.

You didn’t make a habit out of chatting up posh-looking lads with egos that rivalled even that of Icarus and his melting wings, but maybe just this once you’d give in– actually take what’s being offered.

“Huh– dunno why you’re sounding so smug, love. Three drinks and it’s not even dinner time. Some might call that a problem.” Almost immediately that smile of his morphed into an all-knowing smirk, a teasing gleam swimming about in those swampy hazel eyes of his.

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Who? Eighteen year olds having a taste of their first legal drink? Not sure three drinks add up to literal alcoholism, love,” you threw back, defensive, accompanied by that kind of uppity tone in your voice you despised hearing in others’.

His irrefutable bemusement only sharpened the knife poking away between your ribs. Your frown deepened, and so did his grin, but still, his hands flew up in mock-defence as if your words could bite back (and boy, did you wish they could).

“My bad, sweetheart, only teasing,” he assured, nodding at the bartender and then your now-empty drink. Another one, his practised movements seemed to say,

“Do you make a habit out of calling girls alcoholics and then buying them a drink?” you asked, curiosity taking over your irritation.

He shrugged and you couldn’t help but follow the movement, watching as his broad shoulders seemed to invade your space with such careless effort. “So far, just you. It’s something new I’m trying out. What do ya’ think, is it working?” Again with that boyish charm– some sort of arrogance and humility all at once.

Your head shook in an immediate no, but more so to hide the smile that had unwillingly crept onto your face. You knew, with the way things were going, that you’d give into just about anything the man offered (of which he’d not even hinted at yet, but you were just so mesmerised and maybe a little tipsy so you didn’t quite care enough to think of how desperate you may be coming off).

“‘M James, by the way,” he offered as a white flag, a surrender, if you will. You accepted by returning the formality and raising your new drink to his own– a half-empty glass of clear liquid and ice.

“What is that?” you motioned to the beverage in question, “like– 10 shots of straight vodka at once?”

He snorted, a little ugly yet somehow endearingly attractive. Fuck. “Even better, actually– water.”

“And is that new as well, to go with the accusations and drinks?”

“Oh, yeah– I’m really trying to commit to this new year, new me thing,” he bounced back effortlessly.

“It’s November,” you deadpanned, brow arched.

“So I’m either a month and a bit early, or eleven late,” he quipped. You were stunned by the easy rhythm of your back and forth, wondering in what world someone like him could exist– a paragon of a man or whatever the scholars called it. “And while that’d be a fun little story if it were the truth, ‘m actually starting a job tomorrow. Big one, as well. Figured some self-restraint was in order.”

And it was only then that you’d noticed just how little space there was between the both of you, having somehow drifted closer, closer, closer like galaxies hurtling towards each other.

You all but swallowed, staring at his drink held between you, a last barrier that seemed both momentous and insignificant. He’d got you caged in as well, an arm lazing on your backrest, near enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin, blood, maybe even his desire. And his legs, in a somewhat similar position, only a whisper away from knocking into your own.

You considered giving in right then and there, urging his mouth to yours, maybe leading him to the restroom in a grungy stall you wouldn’t otherwise go near on even your worst, most wasted nights.

“Self-restraint with the drinks only, right?” you questioned, tearing your gaze from his glass to his eyes, only to find them already fixated to you. His mouth was perched open, a glide of his tongue against his bottom lip, and the action draws you closer to that chip in his tooth you’d noticed earlier– the one that begged you closer. For inspection, a taste– whatever.

“Oh, but of course. It’s my undoing really, my Achilles Heel, my Hubris,” he seemed to murmur, his words a secret between the two of you. You felt bold then, a rush of heat pouring through your veins as your palm came to rest on the thigh closest to you.

His eyes flickered down for a moment, as if making sure it was real — that touch — before they returned to you. Waiting, watching, with bated breath.

“What is?” you asked, questioning if you’d missed a part of his sentence or if he really was striking you speechless and a little stupid with his words.

“Pretty girls with drinking problems,” and you couldn’t help the surprised laugh that burst from you. He grinned and it was pure majesty.

“Yeah?” you mumbled, inching forward.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, sealing his mouth to yours.

It was bright, too bright in his office– like the ceiling lamps worked part-time in interrogation rooms on the weekends. As much as you needed to be alert, comprehensive, at least mildly sober– it just wasn’t going to happen.

Last night had been something else entirely– the kind of mind-blowing fuck you could only ever dream about, when nights were lonely and the left side of the bed cold for too long. Your memory was somewhat hazy, tinged red with lipstick and lovebites and kicking the duvet out of the way to reach more skin. It was scathing yet sweet and a kind of ruination you welcomed with open arms.

But it also ended abruptly when your eyes flickered open the next morning (a few hours later, more like) and he was already gone. You knew it was for the best– you barely had time for yourself, your family and friends, let alone a stranger with a quick (and skilled, in many ways) tongue and wit.

So there you were, jarred by the empty feeling seeping into your bones. And the lights (had you mentioned the lights?).

“Now, how have things been going this past month?” your Father asked in that all-business, no-nonsense way of his. You think he knows you’re hungover but like all things in your relationship, the two of you choose to ignore it.

“There haven’t been as many customers as I would have liked. The school down the road has been half empty since most of everyone is on study leave, but I–”

“I didn’t ask for excuses, only how it’s going,” he interrupted swiftly. A stabbing pain seemed to appear at the base of your skull as you conjured the remaining energy inside of you to not roll your eyes at your own Father, as well as the man you quite literally owed thousands of pounds to.

“Of course, my bad,” you bit out, taking a deep breath before continuing. “The shop wasn’t as successful as previous months but I’ve got the money here anyway so I’ll still be on track.”

He nodded, accepting your answer and the envelope you placed on his otherwise scarce desk in front of him, before he slid the money, unchecked, into his top drawer.

You sighed, hurrying your words and rushing to gather your things and be out of that dreary office, “Well, if that’s all, I’ve got some errands to run and–”

“--Actually, there’s more I need to discuss with you.” For the second time that day, he cut you off and you fell, defeated, back into the cold leather of the chair. You tilted your head in some sort of half-nod that said, go on.

With his hands clasped in front of him, a stern front if there ever was one, he continued. “As you know, my work is complicated–” (you frowned) “--complicated and expensive. And when one is dealing with the amount of money this company makes, things can get… messy.”

To say you were confused would be an understatement. An actual conversation, albeit clouded with obscurity, about his job? “And when things are messy, one tends to make enemies.”

You couldn’t help how your frown deepened, but you held back any concerns before they could make their way past the tip of your tongue. Your Dad wasn’t one to be interrupted, even if he was particularly talented at doing it to others.

“Essentially, there’s someone who’s not very happy with me–” your mouth opens finally to prod at his statement but he continues anyway, “--and despite every precaution I have taken in order to keep you safe and separate from my work, it’s unfortunately backfired this time around. And so, for your safety, I’ve hired a bodyguard to watch over you for at least the next few months.”

He finished and then there was a resolute silence hanging over you as you took in his words.

You couldn’t help it– you burst out laughing.

“Dad, you’re not– I mean–” the sentence barely made its way out of your mouth before you were overcome with a fit of nervous giggles once more. This is absurd. “You’re not being serious, you can’t be. Right?”

Silence.

Oh.

So that’s when the panic set in, your fingers clutching the armrest on either side of you until your knuckles were white. “Holy fucking–”

“Language,” he scolded with no particular bite and you couldn’t help but scoff,

“Language? Seriously, language. That’s all you have to say. You’ve just told me there’s some kind of bounty on my head and that I need a bodyguard– like, a person to follow me around, twenty four-seven, and carrying a gun or some shit– but all you can think to say to me is fucking language?!” Your breath came out in quick pants, jumping to your feet as you paced the office.

This must be a joke, you thought incredulously. You can’t have some stranger following you around. You had a business to run, croissants to sell, debt to pay off! Who could possibly–

And somehow it got worse.

He walked in and the two of your gazes connecting immediately, like magnets (though this time in a completely different context with your own Father as a member of the audience). You could see, from your place by the window, how his irises grew imperceptibly wider for barely a second as the recognition set in.

“No. No, no, no,” you blurted out immediately, mouth still wide from shock and suddenly you questioned whether your rapid heartbeat was a surprise or something close to a heart attack. Oddly, you’d have preferred the latter.

“Sweetheart,” he had pulled out the big guns now, “this is James Potter.”

“Dad—” you tried and failed to interrupt.

“Don’t worry about the logistics, I’ve sorted it all out. I’ve already rented the apartment next to yours so that he’s nearby at all times. He’ll need to be hired as an employee at your bakery– you know, for appearances sake— but don’t worry about the cost, i’ve got it covered.” Your mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish out of water.

“And most importantly, he is not to leave your side. Ever.” He said it with ease like he hadn’t just informed you that your one night stand had turned into your shadow for the foreseeable future.

James had yet to say anything, his face a facade you wished you could slap off in that moment. Instead, he stood stalk still, arms poised behind him like some sycophantic robot ready to do whatever your Father pleased.

“He can’t be my bodyguard, Dad,” you urged, rushing to his desk, palms slamming down in front of him.

His response was a raised brow (you shared that in common). “And why’s that?”

It’s like you could hear James’ heart skip a beat, probably because yours had as well. You couldn’t tell him the real reason– that’d be a death wish, for the pair of you, if there ever was one.

“It’s just– he’s too big!” James didn’t smile, not outwardly, but you could see it in his eyes when you glanced his way. “I mean, he’s scary or whatever. He won’t fit in with the decor and it’ll scare away the customers,” you reasoned.

He finally spoke and it was then that you truly did consider walking over and slapping him across his stupid, gorgeous face. “What customers?”

You scoffed, whipping your head towards him. “Oh, screw you!”

James looked as if he were going to bite back, mouth poised for a reaponse, but your Dad cut in to save the two of you from outting yourselves.

“That’s enough. This isn’t up for discussion. James is your bodyguard and you’ll have no say in the matter.”

You deflated immediately, collapsing into the same chair you’d sat in, clueless, earlier.

So much for one night.

comment & reblog :)) if u have any ideas for the next chapters do lmk!!! woo!!

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

This one was

oof

*deepbreath*

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader Ch. 9 of...uh what are numbers. Hilarious how I thought this might only be like four chapters originally.

Wordcount: 3,479

First chapter and previous chapter link

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. He has been allotted forty-eight hours to make his decision on the offer of becoming a Warlord, and you can do little but imagine what that means for you

Warnings and stuff: THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW. The next chapter will also be NSFW. The previous chapter was kinda NSFW but this one has definitely breached that territory. Young!Mihawk is unapologetically yandere here. Also I apologize for how much I love cliffhangers

Taglist: @i-am-vita, @madbadpadawan, @browneyedhufflepuff, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @littleleelee, @nerium-lil , @dragon-bubs , @animefreak818 , @byysandra , @lufemia , @gizamalblythe , @schanwow

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist, just lemme know!!

Whatever else Bogard had to say on the matter fell on deaf ears as Mihawk, following his comment about you, dropped the reciever of the den den mushi back onto the desk, ending the call. He lowered his hand, tracing his fingers slowly along the length of your innter thigh, slipping his other out of your bra and behind your back to toy with the clasp holding it shut.

“To think you’ve spent the better part of two months hiding yourself from me,” he murmured. He sighed, hsaking his head, his fingertips trailing a path over the edge of your panties and over the curve of your bare waist seemed to leave tendrils of flame in their wake. “Such a waste of valuable time.” You bit your lip against a whimper as he deftly slipped the claps of your bra loose, lifting his hands to gently brush the straps down your shoulders, pulling the garment away from you. “And now we’re left with only two days to correct it.”

And he stopped, cupping his hands beneath your breasts, his thumbs halting so close to the stiff points of your erect nipples, your head such a fog that it was difficult to convince yourself this wasn’t all a much too vivid dream.

“You’re trembling, my pet,” he informed you in a light, amused tone, as if you weren’t already aware. You were shaking all over, anxious, anticipating, dying to hear his next words, craving his next touch. I am curious—how many men have had you before?”

You bit down harder on your lip, clenching your eyes shut, flaring with embarrassment at the blunt question. You could barely form a single thought already—the thought of admitting that made your head spin all the more violently.

“I asked you a question.”

“None—” you gasped out, gripping so hard at the edge of the chair that you thought you might tear the upholstery if you couldn’t will yourself to stop. You swallowed, your heart accelerating as you focused every ounce of your attention on his lips caressing your jaw, on his hands pushing up your breasts, on anything but the subject at hand. “N...none.”

“Not one?” His slight astonishment didn’t sound feigned, seemed perfectly honest, and you nodded quickly, wishing he would move his hands, in any direction, whether further away or even closer. He hummed quietly. “I did wonder, with how concerned your rear admiral seemed—no?��� He chuckled as you shook your head rapidly. You had never mixed work with pleasure, had never even thought to, and Bogard was your commanding officer, had never been anything but professional. “I find it difficult to believe none of your fellow cadets would have taken interest in such a pretty little thing.”

“N—n-no—” You stammered as he finally pulled the rough pads of his thumbs across your nipples. You felt him draw in a sharp breath as you lowered your hand to grip his thigh, arch your back, unintentionally grinding yourself back against the stiff bulge at the front of his pants. His breath released as a low growl vibrating against your neck, and he rewarded you for the unexpected stab of pleasure by pressing down lightly on your sensitive nipples and massaging them in slow, small circles.

“No one,” he repeated with a sigh, quickly regaining control of himself, grinding against your hips when that single taste of gratification wasn’t enough. “So innocent.” He drew in a slow, deep breath, pressing his lips hard against your neck for a moment. “That’s as good as a crime, for such a lovely creature to be untouched for so long…”

Your eyes snapped open, staring down to watch his left hand as it slipped down from your breast, his fingertips drifting like feathers down the soft plane of your stomach.

“I hardly have any choice but to make it right myself.”

Further, lower, beneath the dip of your navel, brushing across the waist of your panties—his other hand lifting away from your breast, his breath hot against your jaw as he curled it beneath your chin and spoke with his lips barely brushing the corner of your mouth.

“Turn your head.” You bit your lip, unable to tear your eyes from his hand halted at your waist, his fingertips caressing across the top of your panties. If you looked at him, allowed your eyes to lock with his for even a moment, it would all be real.

“Turn,” he repeated slowly, his voice still an intimate murmur, though a bit firmer in his command, “your head, pet. That wasn’t a request. No,” he said, shaking his head as your eyes snapped shut and you started to turn. “You will keep your eyes open. I want you here, not somewhere else.”

He knew exactly what you were trying to do. Trying to close your eyes, imagine you were somewhere else, anywhere else, that this really was all a strange dream, that you weren’t willingly going against your mission in favor of the promise of carnal pleasure—

“I would hate to have to punish my little bird,” he murmured, though from the way he pulled you back against him, close enough that you felt the throbbing of his arousal against your lower back, he hardly seemed that put off by the thought. “Especially when we’re in the middle of enjoying ourselves.” He lifted his hand from your chin, brushed your hair back from your temple and tucked it behind your ear, trailing his fingers down your neck. “Look at me, pretty girl.”

Your eyes drifted open as you turned your head, and your heart exploded into arrhythmia the moment they locked with his—hearing him murmur that pet name in your ear, as much a taunt as it was a sultry invitation, made it impossible for you to turn away. He said it so quietly, so tenderly, so salaciously that you obeyed him automatically, staring wide-eyed into the mingling amusement and hunger in his gaze. He brushed his knuckles below your chin and settled his fingertips at the edge of your hairline, at your temple.

“You belong to me now,” he said, tilting his head slightly and leaning in. “Do not forget that.”

You swallowed, unable to move at all now that your gaze was locked with his, the sharp yellow orbs holding you in place as if by some irresistible magnetic force. He still wasn’t moving either, except to stroke his thumb across your lips. Your eyes flashed down toward his other hand, wondering why he didn’t continue, wishing he would, you had done everything he asked.

“What is it, my darling pet? Did you want me to touch you? Yes?” he chuckled when you nodded several times. “You have followed most of my orders well,” he allowed, dragging his knuckles down your neck, down your collorbone, resting his hand over your breast. “I might...if you can ask nicely.”

You had no choice. The dull, throbbing ache between your thighs, only a couple inches beneath his fingertips, it was too much to bear now. Too good to resist. He seemed bent on enjoying your growing desperation as long as possible before he gave you anything else, and you had no choice but to play along.

“Please—plea…” And bent on making it as difficult as possible, as he brushed his lips to your jaw, to the corner of your mouth. You licked your lips, your mouth gone dry from your erratic breathing. “Please t—touch me,” you breathed, your eyes clenching shut briefly, a small whimper escaping you as he tightened his grip on your breast, his palm rubbing across your oversensitive nipple. But you forced them back open quickly—he had told you to keep them open, there was no choice in that. “Please…”

“‘Please’ what?”

You swallowed dryly, immediately grasping his meaning—then bluring out what he was looking for in a pained cry as he pinched your nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger.

“P-please—mm—master—please t-touch—”

But your desperate pleas were cut short, muffled as he crushed his lips so hard against yours that it nearly hurt. By the sharp breath he inhaled and the ferocity of his brief kiss he must have approved, even if his grip on your breast had tightened to the point that it pulled another gasp of pain from you—yet it also sent a jolt though you that made you pull your thighs a bit tighter against the throbbing pressure between them. He abruptly broke away, exhaling a slow sigh as he loosened his hand.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked lightly, gently massaging the soft mound under his grasp so you released your breath in a shaking sigh. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to respond, but all you could find the will to do was offer a short nod. “Oh, dear…” He lifted his hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb across your trembling bottom lip. “I’ll need to take care not to forget how delicate you are.” Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed a tender kiss against the corner of your mouth. “I would hate to break my new toy when I’ve hardly yet had a chance to play with it.”

You glanced down as he pulled his other hand away from your stomach, shifting it to your waist—and he stood so suddenly that you three your arms around his neck with a cry of alarm, sure he would shove you right to the floor at his feet for a moment. Instead he hooked an elbow under your knees, cradling you in his arms and resting his forehead against yours.

“I suppose I ought to atone for my carelessness.”

You couldn’t have torn your gaze away from his sharp yellow eyes if you wanted to, from the ever present devilish spark glowing in their depths, unaware of where you were being carried until he lay you across the elongated daybed across the room at the huge window stretching up to an arch at the high ceiling, where he had spent much of his spare time reading with you perched near his side in your devil fruit form over the last several weeks. He brushed a few books off of it, letting them fall over the edge and to the stone floor without a care for where they landed.

You fought the impulse to cover yourself as his eyes passed slowly over you, certain he would only tug your hands aside if you tried to. You instead shifted back against the cushions behind you, your gaze flickering to his hand tracing a slow path up your inner thigh. A shiver crept through you as his light touch passed over the small triangle that was the front of your plain white panties, continuing slowly up the flat plane of your stomach—up, between your breasts as he pushed your legs apart with his knee, up to your neck to curl beneath your chin as you lay your head back on the pile of throw pillows.

He planted his elbow on the bed above your shoulder, and a soft whimper left you at the caress of his lips at the other side of your neck. You gripped at the edge of the mattress at the powerful, pleasurable quiver between your thighs that came with the delicate path his lips traced along the curve of your neck, your breath entering and leaving your lungs in short, halting bursts.

“You are truly exquisite,” he murmured, so close to your ear that his lips brushed across it. His fingers curled into your hair near your temple and you found yourself turning your head toward the light touch automatically, arching your hips as his other hand gripped at the soft flesh of your rear. His low chuckle in your ear alone was enough to pull a soft moan from somewhere in your chest. “And so sensitive. You really haven’t been touched before, have you, my pet?”

As he shifted to shove off his coat before he moved his hand up your hip, lacing his fingers around the side of your underwear, trailing his lips across your neck, you finally dared to glance down. You immediately regretted doing so as your breath stuttered to a halt and your eyes became glued to him. You had seen him shirtless before, but never so close, much less pinning you into such a compromising position beneath him. You gripped the mattress under you a little tighter, wondering whether he would be angry if you lifted your hands to touch his broad shoulders, to feel his powerful, solid chest under your palms; to brush your fingers over his sleep, jet black hair or the contours of his high cheekbones and angular jaw.

The temptation was quickly growing too great to bear—at least when he had been behind you you couldn’t see the slow rising and falling of his chest, or how each muscle in his strong upper arms flexed as his hands explored across your nearly naked body.

You could ask.

The prospect filled you with such intense anxiety that you were sure you would faint, even before you could feel his skillful hands delve below the waist of your panties. You swallowed as his lips brushed your jaw, closing your eyes for a moment and drawing in a slow, deep breath, drawing up every ounce of resolve in your mind and body to find the ability to speak.

“C...can...can I touch you—mm—master?”

You couldn’t muster more than a whisper, but he had heard you—he paused with his lips grazing the crook of your neck, and your heart stopped briefly with the cessation of his movement, your fingers digging into the edge of the mattress. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked, shouldn’t have even spoken without permission. Perhaps that wasn’t as bad as laying your hands on him, on his pale skin stretched taut across his lean, toned torso and his roguishly handsome face; but it was still surely punishable, enough to irritate him if the pressure of his fingertips digging into your waist and stomach were any indication.

Then he sighed slowly, his breath quavering as he loosened his grip. Your own breath left you in a sigh as well when he combed his fingers down through your hair, down until you could turn your cheek into the warmth of his rough palm.

“Do you really have to ask, dear?”

The brief disruption in his composure was gone in a flash in his light, amused tone. The question was rhetorical on its surface, but anything could be a test. Any oversight could potentially get you into trouble, and you were too vulnerable in your present situation to be able to do anything to counteract it. You swallowed again, and managed to force yourself to speak up. It was only a mumble, a trembling murmur, but at least it was more than a whisper this time.

“I...didn’t want to...to make you angry, sir.”

There was nothing disapproving in his quiet chuckle—if it was a test, you had passed. You lay your head back in a low, breathy moan as he brushed his lips to the column of your throat. “As reward for your obedience…”

The warm vibration of his murmur at your jaw, just below your chin, had you clenching your thighs around his knee, arching your back and your hips in a futile attempt to find some respite from the unbearable, swelling pressure throbbing between them. He shifted his other knee between your legs, forcing them apart again, refusing to allow you any relief. You felt his lips brush across your own and drew in a sharp breath as the quiet sound of his deep voice alone lifted goosebumps all over your body.

“You may.”

For a brief, terrifying moment, your hands refused to move.

Your shoulders tensed as you fought the anxiety crippling you from loosening your death-grip on the mattress beneath you—he couldn’t grant you permission if he didn’t want you to, and for you to falter now would surely do nothing more than annoy him.

Then he lifted your head, pressing his lips fully to yours, and every muscle in your body relaxed in the brief, firm kiss. You lifted your hand nearest the window, trembling, until your fingertips grazed the hard muscle adorning his thick upper arms. You gasped at the shock it sent through your body, pulling your hand away for a moment as the warmth of his skin seemed to scorch your fingers.

Then you lifted it further, your eyes fluttering shut at the delightful sensation of his lips gingerly grazing your cheek, and let your palm rest against his broad shoulder. Your other rose from the edge of the mattress, as if longing of its own accord to feel the heat of his body beneath it, and you felt as much as you heard his slow sigh as you trailed your fingertips up the hard plane of his chest, up the cords of his strong neck and jaw. Your breath stuttered to an astonished halt when your reached his sharp cheekbone and he leaned toward your touch, brushing a kiss to your lips as your fingertips slipped into his soft, dark hair.

“Is it your intention to break my will?” he asked lightly. His amusement was still present, but there was a quiet purr in his deep, sensual murmur that made your heart flutter and your breath catch. You quickly shook your head—and then gasped, digging your fingertips into his scalp and his muscular shoulder when he pressed a hard kiss to your neck and sucked the tender skin into his mouth, biting down lightly. He exhaled a slow, heavy breath of air before pressing his lips there again, gingerly, lightly grazing his tongue against the same spot.

“Are you quite sure?” You nodded automatically—you had barely done anything at all, nothing you thought would affect him remotely as much as it would you. “You do possess quite a talent for fooling me.” You opened your eyes when you felt his forehead rest against yours, and found his gaze boring into you, challenging you to show any sign of dishonesty. You swallowed, unable to blink as you stared straight back into his eyes. “Your talent for acting is nothing short of captivating.”

You swallowed as you felt his hand creep across your stomach, below your navel, his fingers curling around the edge of your panties again.

“But it makes it difficult to know whether you’re lying,” he went on, his lips grazing yours with each murmured word. You couldn’t breathe as he curled his fingers in your hair. “I can hardly tell without seeing your eyes.”

His fingertips, brushing across the small, thin triangle of fabric that barely covered your intense arousal.

“Tell me….” He brushed his thumb across your burning cheek. “Who is it you belong to?”

“Y—you,” you said automatically—and hurried to correct yourself when he lifted his eyebrows. “You, sir—y-you’re my master.”

He pressed his lips firmly to yours, drawing in a sharp breath as his tongue teased against your bottom lip, drawing a sharp moan up from your chest before releasing you.

“And should I reward my pretty little pet for being such a good girl?”

The pressure was unbearable now, as he pressed his palm down onto your lower abdomen to still your involuntary squirming beneath him, to stop you from arching your hips toward his light, teasing caresses.

“You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth as he pushed his hand into your panties without warning—but he kept it still, only resting his palm over the heat of your arousal, barely brushing his fingertips against the mound, smirking as you uttered a low, agonized moan of protest.

“Y—yes, sir,” you breathed, nodding quickly. You needed it, needed to feel his skillful touch against your throbbing center, to feel the push of his fingers at your entrance, needed more. “Y-yes, master, please—”

“You will tell me when you’re close, pet. Until I allow it, you aren’t to come.”

You fixed your eyes on his and nodded quickly in response to his low warning, your heart racing in anticipation. You were apt to lose yourself the moment he applied the slightest pressure, but you would deal with the repercussions if it meant finding some relief from this agony. He brushed his lips to yours, and his next words gave you pause, made your eyes widen and your heart stop as you immediately reconsidered the possibility of defiance.

“You aren’t to come,” he repeated, his voice a low, sultry purr at the corner of your trembling lips, “until I pull you onto my cock and grant you permission.”

[daisyandtherose]

MIGUEL O'HARA 18+

Warnings: references to sexual things, age gap, boss and coworker??, He's about fourty two, no translation for Spanish to english (there's one Spanish phrase, nothing else just Miguel having dirty thoughts about you. Also more so a female character.

Miguel owns a ranch, he's an older man, he likes a younger person he employs who's around the age of his daughter(it's all legal), and he is so hot while doing it. Fr just a quick blurb

---------------

"Shit"

Miguel hissed under his breath and quickly averted his eyes from you.

He was currently loading hay bales off of his pickup bed and into the horses pens in sweltering heat. He figured it would be a simple job, a bit annoying with the heat, definitely enough so that he would have to take off his shirt to avoid sweating through it but definitely bearable. Apparently not with you around.

Miguel glanced back over at you as you laughed at something Gabi said. He just really couldn't look away, not when you were dressed like that.

You were wearing a dainty, red bikini and sandals. Nothing more.

The bikini was one of those string ones, both the top and the bottom. Both the pieces were tied with bows like a pretty present for him, he knew that if he just walked over there and gave one simple tug to the strings he could see and touch everything-

No. That was wrong, so wrong.

You were too young, nearly half his age. He was a grown man, forty two years old.

Forty two years old and acting like a horny teenager.

You were only two years older than his own daughter. It was disgusting, perverted. He knew he was being sick.

But that didn't stop him from looking. It was constant. Everytime you walked into a room he just stared, he couldn't help it when you looked like that.

Brightening smile, soft eyes, perfect body. And when you showed it off like you were doing now? He had to take several deep breaths to contain himself.

He's embarrassed to admit that he's jerked off to you several times and they were the best times he's gotten off in a long time. He wishes he could do something, he does. He wishes you would walk up to him and just beg him to take you, to do anything because then he knows he wouldn't be able to resist you, you're always so receptive to everything he has to say, everything he has you do you do it with pleasure. If only he could pleasure you the way he wanted to.

He would be gentle, it doesn't seem like you have lots of experience so he would try to be soft. Key word: try.

Miguel likes to pride himself on his self control but when it comes to sex he knows he has zero. And he quickly learned that when it comes to you it gets even worse.

The amount of times he's let himself indulge in touching you is disappointing. Never anything too bad, just quick grabs to your hips to guide you, or a hand to your lower back to usher you somewhere, even just holding your hand to help you off a horse.

With his lack of self control he knows that he'd give in and just pound you and he knows you'd let him.

You'd let him do whatever he wants, with the way you blush at him he doesn't doubt you've had your own share of dirty thoughts about him.

From the day you met him you've had a problem looking him straight in the eye. You've also had a problem of staring at him when you thought he didn't notice. He always noticed you.

One time Miguel thinks fondly of is when he had just gotten done putting up the upgraded fences around the east side of the ranch and he went into the kitchen shirtless and sweaty from a hard day's work. He didn't realize you were even in there but sure enough when he opened the door you were pulling a homemade cake out from the fridge and looking cute while doing it.

You had your hair up and were wearing a cute dainty dress with flowers patterned into it, you looked properly overworked but seemed determined to frost this cake if it were the last thing you'd do.

You didn't turn around when he first walked in but it was obvious you'd heard him, when you placed the cake down you turned around with a smile before your mouth dropped slightly as you took in his shirtless and breathless state.

You both stood there for a beat. You were stunned at his sudden and attractive presence while he smirked silently at your expression.

"Do you have any water?" Miguel asked, trying to get you to snap out of it while also getting what he came here for.

"Um…yeah! Yeah we do" You snapped into action immediately and went to pour him a glass.

He silently watched you stumble around the kitchen in a hurry with your hands shaking slightly to get him what he needed. While you did that Miguel took a towel off of one of the shelves and started to wipe the sweat off of himself.

You turned around with the balls of water to him rubbing down his abs.

"Um…what are you doing?" You asked quietly, trying to grasp what was happening in front of you.

"I'm sticky with sweat, ¿Te parece bien?" He sounded ruder than he meant to and he saw you blush and nod your head before getting back to icing your cake.

He cussed himself out internally for putting you off so quickly, especially when he wanted the conversation to continue.

Miguel remembers how he felt then. He felt want and need. He's always hated feeling needy but he can never help it when it comes to you, it drives him crazy.

But he couldn't help but smile when the two of you made eye contact from staring at each other.

Let me know if you guys want this as a series because I'd definitely be down to write that!!

Pt.2

[obsessivelullabies]

oh my god your Graves writing is so good!! I really enjoyed your last two pieces

I can't help but imagine sugar daddy or dilf Graves...oh my god the thought is so yummy

you can write this sfw or nsfw, whichever you prefer! thank you!

why not both? graves is probably in his early or mid forties, you’re still in college so you’re probably in your early twenties.

phillip met you while you were at work, he thought you were just the sweetest little thing. the more he talked to you, the harder he fell. he’d visit your work just to talk to you for a few minutes. whenever your attention shifted to another customer, he’d get jealous.

so, one day, he calmly asked for your phone number. after your shift, you got a text from him saying he wanted to take care of you. a pretty young thing like you shouldn’t be working so hard. you deserved to be treated with love and care, and graves could do exactly that for you.

due to how much you hated your job, you took the chance. phillip was overjoyed. that night, he took you out on a charming restaurant date, finally being able to have all of your attention. he asked you about yourself, bragged about himself and constantly told you how perfect you looked.

that night, phillip insisted you come back home with him. he’d be eager to slip you out of your clothes, finally admiring your body. this had always been his fantasy since he laid his eyes on you.

the sounds of your moans and gasps was music to his ears. phillip would tease you through it, “aw, sugar. ya’ look so desperate for me. i’ll give you what ya need.”.

once he’s finished with you, he’ll hold you as if he wasn’t ever letting you go. thankfully, the next morning he released you. you could tell he didn’t want you to leave, he kept trying to show you things or start a new conversation.

he definitely pays you an insane amount of money for just your time. he wants you to keep coming back to him, no matter the cost.

graves takes you on all kinds of different dates: shopping, movie nights at his place, dinner, even picnics. whatever you want to do, he’ll take you out.

he definitely wants you to just come to his house, cook him dinner, chat mindlessly with him and then hold him through the night.

phillip loooves when you give him a blowjob. he adores watching you sink to your knees and take his cock in your mouth til he cums down your throat or on your chest.

he always wants to cum inside you, as if he’s claiming you through the intimate act. graves definitely mocks you a little whenever you cum.

lord forbid someone ever tries stealing your attention from him. he’ll do everything in his power to keep your affections on him. he’ll offer more money, more dates, more shopping trips. anything. he definitely gets desperate.

phillip just wants to love you.

masterlist! | requests open. | reblogs and comments appreciated. | end is unedited.

[pastelspoon31]

Chapter 6: What a nice neighbour! (Older!König x Younger!Reader) - NSFW

tw: age gap (early 20s reader, AT LEAST mid-40s König), manipulation, non-con, somnophilia, drugging, gullible reader :(, a little bit of pseudo-incest, pretty much dead dove, again.. SUPER ICKY

A/N: Starting off with a little insight from König’s perspective before somno-ing our reader again ^_^

Chapter 5.5 | Chapter 6 | Masterlist

König sometimes wonder if you were genuinely that naive, or if it was a façade to get him to continue with his games.

But that was none of his concern, of course.

…Well, sort of.

He enjoyed the current dynamic between the two of you more than he'd like to admit.

Besides, it’s not like it’s his fault that you kept coming back to his place after each encounter, is it? There must be at least one braincell in that pretty little head of yours that was blaring warning signs, and yet here you always find yourself in his place somehow with your innocent, clueless, dumb smile on your face.

…Or were you just acting dumb?

Oh, that would be an entirely different case, wouldn’t it?

But, whatever. He had his fun, and he would continue to have his fun, and it was only a matter of time before he'd have his next encounter with your pretty little cunt, whether you liked it or not.

He could only hope that you'll make the right choice, and keep coming back.

You did enjoy spending time with your father figure afterall, don’t you? 

Ah, his little hase.

What a good, stupid, clueless little girl.

———

"Would you... date an older woman?" You laid in König's lap giggling in an almost ditzy manner as you asked.

Spending dinner at his place again, you both somehow ended up on his couch playing a game of truth or dare- but it was mostly truths since the both of you were comfortable enough with each other at this point.

"I have, liebling." He chuckled. "Why, are you jealous?" He teased.

"You have?" You let out a little gasp, purposely ignoring the following question. “How old? I mean you're pretty old yourself so..-"

"Hey!" He playfully smacked your forehead as you giggled.

"Well, if you must know, she was a beautiful woman in her mid forties."

"So you have a type?" You tilted your head.

"Not exactly." He chuckled. "She was just.. someone I relied on for a bit while I was in the process of getting over my late wife," His tone was a bit somber as he talked about it, his hand stroking your hair.

"I see... Sorry, I didn't mean to bring back any memories."

"It's alright, liebling. You're too young to be worried about the past. It's not a burden for me anymore, so don't let it be for you." He continued caressing your hair.

"How about you? Would you.. date older men?" He tried not to smirk at the idea.

"I would," You answered almost immediately, "I mean, if they were attractive, then I wouldn't mind."

"So what you're saying is, if an old geezer asked you out, you'd go for it?" He teased as he looked down at your scrunched up face.

"Geezer? Who taught you that word?!" You chuckled as the wine in your glass sloshed around.

"You're not the only one who can use the internet, hase." He grinned, and you laughed.

"You're right. But, if the man is a geezer, I wouldn't. Maybe a gentleman who's a bit older, but not a geezer."

"Ah, so a gentleman who's a bit older." He hummed, pretending to not know who you were talking about.

"Yeah. Like, someone who knows a lot about the world, and is experienced." You continued, oblivious to the growing smirk on König’s lips.

"Someone like an old war veteran?" He asked, his hand now trailing down your back, rubbing it gently.

So comfy…

"Yes! Like an old war vet- I mean, yes, someone like that. I wouldn't mind. I mean, not really." You babbled, giggling as a strange fluffy feeling starts to cloud your mind.

Someone capable, ready to settle down- Maybe even already financially stable!

You were not against working together with your partner to achieve financial freedom but it's just easier if it's not an issue to think of anymore right?

But of course, that was not your main criteria! You were not a gold digger!

As long as that someone is nice, takes care of you, loves you..

Someone who is reliable, strong, and can teach you the ropes on things you don't learn in school.

Someone like König, perhaps.

...

Someone like König?

"Not you though, you're like.. my father-figure so you don't have to feel weird about asking." You quickly countered after a brief period of awkward silence.

"Oh, is that so, hase?" He smiled, "You're a very honest girl when you're drunk. And what makes you think I would have any interest in you that way?" He chuckled.

...You definitely read him wrong.

Shit.

"I didn't say that! I mean- well, you're my dad. But like, not like a real dad, I mean.." You blushed and turned away, hiding your face in his thigh. "Ugh.. I hate it when you tease me like this.."

"Aww, but hase, it's cute." He chuckled.

"Only you think it's cute.."

"So if I asked you, you'd say no, hm?" He asked, his hand still stroking your hair.

"No to what? I mean- I'm sorry, I'm not making sense, am I?" You laughed.

"Do you want me to be blunt, liebling?"

"You always are.."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He took your glass and set it on the coffee table before pulling you to sit up on his lap. The fuzzy feeling in your skull making your head almost too heavy to hold up by yourself, making you lean onto his shoulder as you looked up at the older man with a dazed expression.

“Hm..?" You blushed as you looked at him. "What do you mean..?"

"Don't play coy with me, liebling." He held you closer. "I'm asking if you'd be okay with being more than a daughter."

Well, that was unexpected.

"I.. I mean, I guess." You frowned lightly. König sure is being a bit weird right now.

Afterall, what does he mean more than a daughter? Like a real daughter? What a silly suggestion! He’s obviously German so there’s no way-

"You guess? Don't tell me you have no feelings for me, hase?" He faked a sad look.

This feels.. strange. He has feelings for you? That can’t be right..

"Of course not! It's not that, König, it's just.." You blushed, "I'm just not sure if I'm.. Ready."

"For what?" He stroked your hair.

"Well, everything.." You sighed, and looked down. "You're like a father to me and you've been helping me a lot and.. and-"

"And? There's more, hase. What's on your mind?" He rubbed your back soothingly, and you felt yourself relaxing under his touch.

"I feel guilty."

"Guilty? What for?" He frowned.

"Because I.. I.." You felt yourself blushing harder.

"I've been feeling weird about you." You admitted, your voice quiet.

"Weird? In a good way, I hope."

"I mean, yeah.. You're a really good guy. You're like, perfect. Too perfect." You sighed and leaned into him closer.

"And... Sometimes.." Your drunken mind struggled with your rational side, wondering if you should reveal something that had been plaguing you for a while.

"Sometimes what, hase?" He hummed.

"I've dreamt.." You contemplated telling him.

He wouldn’t judge you, right? He promised that he never would so technically.. It should be safe to tell him, especially with all the other things you have trusted him with!

"About what, liebling?" He cooed, rubbing his hands down your arms.

"At night.. Well, every night.. I have been dreaming about you.." Your voice was soft and meek as you spoke.

"I see.." König couldn't help the grin that was growing on his face.

"But, it's not.. It's not like a normal dream. Like... More intimate," You hid your blushing face in his shoulder, the alcohol finally loosening you up.

Or rather whatever the hell that König had added to your drink, again.

"More intimate, hm? Like what, hase?" He couldn't stop grinning.

"Like.. Like the dreams where it feels really real and you're touching me and it's.. I wake up and the um.. white sticky fluids I told you about.." You trailed off in embarrassment.

"Ah.. So you've been holding back details the other day when I was checking you.."

"I'm sorry.." The embarrassment and guilt was unmistaken in your tone as you looked away, eyes barely open.

"Oh, hase, don't be. It's only natural." He kissed your forehead, his hands stroking the back of your head.

"I'm sorry.." You apologized again, still trying to look at him in the eyes.

God, your head felt so heavy.

"Don't be.." He continued to hush you, "It's normal. And there's nothing to feel guilty about. It's only natural that you'd have sexual urges." He cooed, trying his best not to sound so excited.

"It's embarrassing, König.. M’not.. Not.. Hmm..” König felt his cock harden as you head tilted to the side, your consciousness slowly slipping away right before his eyes again.

"Oh, but why?" He chuckled, "I'm like your father. Of course, I wouldn't get angry. It's just another thing that happens. You can't control it.." He cooed as he

"Mmm.."

"Now, don't worry about a thing." His eyes glinted with excitement as he saw the crushed pill in your drink take effect once again as your eyes struggled to stay open.

"It's okay. Everything's fine, liebling. Just close your eyes and relax.."

You could barely nod and let your eyes close as König stroked your hair, humming softly.

"Just drift off to sleep, hase.." He continued his hypnotic strokes, his humming sending you to a dreamless state of bliss.

"That's a good girl.."

When he was certain you were out cold, König laid you on the couch and carried you upstairs to his bedroom.

"Let's see how wet that cunny of yours is tonight, hm?" He chuckled as he laid you down and carefully took off your clothes.

"Ah, and look at that.."

You were dripping already.

"How sweet.."

He spread your legs, and began lapping at your folds.

"Oh, sweet liebling.."

His tongue pushed past the barrier of your cunt, lapping at the slick walls, sucking on the soft skin.

"You taste so fucking good as always.." He groaned, his hands holding onto your hips.

"I bet you were thinking about me fucking your little brains out, weren't you? You've been such a needy little girl. Dreaming about your König fucking you all the time." He continued licking and sucking your sweet little cunny, his chin already wet with your slick.

"Such a needy little girl, hase.."

König pulled away from your dripping pussy, a string of saliva and your juices still connecting his mouth to your glistening pussy.

"Look at the mess you've made, liebling." He tutted, and grabbed a cloth.

"Soaking my bed and leaving a mess on the sheets.." He cleaned the slick up, and wiped his chin clean.

"And you didn't even realize it, did you? Dirty girl.."

"I wonder, would you be embarrassed if I showed you a pictures of this, hase? What if I woke you up and showed you how dirty you were, hm?"

"I wonder what you'd do, hase."

"Maybe, I should take a video and show it to you so you can see how much of a mess you've made.." He tapped his cockhead on your swollen clit. “I do have a big collection of just you,”

"It's quite the sight to behold, afterall," The older man chuckled to himself.

"But then again, I can't be too cruel. I don't want you to panic and run away from me." He smirked, his cock throbbing as he rubbed it between your folds.

"After all, I'm not a monster. I just.. get a little bit ahead of myself sometimes.”

He pushed past your tight entrance, feeling your wet walls fluttering around his massive throbbing cock as he bottomed out.

"A-ah, hase.." König let out a low groan as he buried his cock inside of your cunt, your pussy clenching tightly.

"My pretty girl.." He praised, his hands grabbing onto your hips.

"You're a natural born whore for me, aren't you?" He cooed.

"Tight and wet for your König.." He slowly began pulling out.

"A-ah!~" You were unconscious, and yet the sounds you were making were so lewd.

"My sweet, pretty girl.." He thrusted back in, letting out a moan.

"Fuck.. Fuck, hase..!" König groaned and thrusted his cock into your tight hole, feeling the slick walls of your pussy gripping him.

"I'll fill you up nice and full, liebling.." He grunted, his fingers digging into your skin.

"F-fuck.. Hase.. You feel so fucking good..!"

"I can't wait to have you begging for my cock.." He moaned.

Your face was scrunched up as you whined in your sleep.

"You'll be mine, won't you?" He grunted as he thrust harder.

"Won't you, liebling? You'll be my sweet, pretty whore and you'll come to me whenever you need to be fucked, hm?" König smirked as he heard you whine more in your sleep.

"You'd do that for me, hase? Let this old man take care of you? I'd give you everything you ever wanted, liebling.. All the gifts and treats.."

"You just have to be mine." He pulled your legs up and bent them towards your chest, fucking into you harder.

"Ngh, f-fuck.. Liebling..!" He groaned, his fingers digging deeper.

"You feel so good, hase.. I'm close.. You'll take my cum, won't you, hase? My pretty hase.." You let out a soft moan and clenched around him, and König groaned.

"F-fuck..! I'm coming.." He gasped, his cock throbbing.

"Take my cum, hase.. Take it all..!" He spilled inside of you, filling you up with his seed, his cock still pulsing.

"Mm.. Mein liebling.." He gently put your legs back down and pulled out.

"Oh, hase.. Such a sweet girl.." He murmured and rubbed his thumb over your cunt, the swollen lips glistening with slick and his cum.

"So dumb and trusting of your König.. Letting him fuck your brains out without knowing.." You remained unconscious as he pushed the cum back into your abused cunny and put your underwear back on, giving it a couple soft pats right above your abused clit for good measure.

"Don't worry, liebling. You won't remember a thing.." He chuckled as he pulled the rest of your clothes back on.

"And when the time is right, you'll know everything.." He gave you a sweet kiss before pulling you onto his chest, falling asleep himself.

———

"König?" You woke up feeling disoriented and confused, seeing yourself in König's room.

"Liebling." König smiled warmly at you, "I'm glad you're awake. I was a bit worried you'd pass out and miss your classes today," He was getting ready himself, pulling on his t-shirt.

"Uh.. What happened last night? I don't remember anything after dinner.." You tried to sit up but were met with a sharp pain in your lower body.

"Ouch.." You whined softly. König smirked to himself as he heard you complain but played oblivious as he sat down beside you.

"What's wrong, hase?" He feigned concern.

"Ugh.. My stomach hurts.. I think it's the wine.." You rubbed your tummy with a soft pout- A sight that made König’s cock twitch in his pants.

If only you know all the ways you drive him crazy…

"Ah, you must have drank too much. You fell asleep while we were playing, so I brought you up here." He lied smoothly.

"I see.." You winced in pain from the growing headache throbbing in your head.

"Would you like some medicine?" He offered.

"No, no, it's okay." You groaned lightly as you sat up- Immediately felt something gush out of your sore pussy, making you panic.

"Ahh! K-König!-”

"Hase?"

"The.. T-The stuff.. It's there again-" You whimpered, feeling like you wanted to cry.

"The what, liebling?" König looked at you with a calm smile.

"T-The sticky fluid.." You felt embarrassed, but knew that if you didn't tell him, he'd probably scold you.

"Ah, hase.. Did you dream about me again?" He cooed and cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing against it soothingly.

"Y-yes.."

"Oh, liebling.." He hummed, and pulled you closer, "It's okay. It's normal, ja? There's nothing to be embarrassed about." He smiled.

"But.."

"But, what, liebling?"

"I made a mess.."

"Oh, hase, it's okay. I'll take a closer inspection and we'll get that sorted out, okay?" He smiled sweetly.

"O-okay.."

"Now, spread your legs, hase. Let your König take care of you, ja?”

[justhotfantasies]

My friend Clara and my husband don’t get on. I guess that’s why I haven’t seen her as much as I would have liked over the last twenty years and I’m pretty sure that’s why I got an invitation to her son’s wedding and he didn’t. Whatever the case I was booked into the Golden Lion hotel where the reception was taking place and I was decked out in what I thought was my classiest outfit: a red satin dress that clung a little more tightly to my middle-aged body than it had when I bought it,  and I’d put on party make up for the first time in ages.

It was getting late. I’d had a few drinks. I’d chatted to a few old acquaintances and had a few laughs and was thinking about going to bed when a voice said, “Hold still.” A good-looking young man of about twenty-one that I recognised as the best man was holding up his phone and pointing it at me. “For the record” he said as I smiled and he took my picture. A moment later he was standing close to me showing it to me. “I’ll be back in a few minutes for a dance, OK?” he said with youthful enthusiasm.

I’ll be honest, I felt a small thrill of excitement at the thought. But I’m forty-five and married so didn’t think much more of it until he reappeared holding out his hand and saying “Now. That dance.” A little flattered and very surprised I took his hand and he led me onto the dance floor. It was a slow number and I became aware as we danced that I was becoming aroused by this young man’s hands on my body and his breath in my ear; by the movement of his chest against my breasts and his groin against my stomach.

The next few minutes are a blur. One moment we were on that dance floor. The next we were in the lift heading for the third floor and our lips were pressed together, our tongues were lashing at each other and our hands were exploring each other’s bodies. The next moment we were in my room pulling at each other’s clothes and all thoughts of my husband had vanished from my head as this young man, young enough to be my son, and I tumbled onto the bed.

His thigh ground against my pussy as my tongue danced with his. His hand explored my full mature tits as mine clutched at his tight young arse. His cock grew hard against my soft middle-aged stomach and a part of me - a part perhaps that recalled the freedom I had at his age - yearned to feel it inside me; yearned for a simple, primal, uncomplicated, undomesticated fuck.

I rolled onto my back and spread my legs. Nestled between them I felt his slim hips against my thighs as his cock moved against my wet pussy and then I gasped as he entered me, stretching me inside and sending waves of pleasure out through my body. I clutched at his strong young shoulders as he thrust deep inside me and my hips rose to meet him. Wrapping my legs around him I urged him on as he began to fuck me with a youthful vigour and urgency I’d long forgotten.

As if in a haze, at a distance, I could hear myself moaning, panting, urging him on as with thrust after thrust shock after shock of sensual joy surged through me; building, surging, rising to a crescendo until, clutching at him, the sheets, the bed, anything I could get my hands on, I came. My whole body shook as I pulled him to me and, a few moments later, I felt him swell inside me and, with a few deep determined thrusts he flooded my mature married pussy. 

He rolled off and we lay panting for a while. Me more than him - I hadn’t had that much exercise for quite some time. Eventually he got dressed and went to his room and I had the best night’s sleep I’d had in some time

[vergeltvng]

NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Having a smoke. His (usual smaller, both f and m) partner laying on top of him. Pillow talk - sometimes he opens up about things he'd never speak about under other circumstances.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He fancies his beard a lot. He also knows exactly what he's doing by wearing his shirts unbuttoned. He has a weakness for pretty eyes, especially when they resemble Becca's eyes. Keeping that to himself and sometimes even getting angry about it out of nowhere tends to leave his partner irritated as a logical consequence.

C = Cum (where does your muse prefer to cum/have someone cum)

Prefers cumming inside. He is skilled with his fingers, so he'd lend a hand helping his partner cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

As a teenager/young adult he preferred women quite a bit older than him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He knows well what he's doing. He's in his late fortys and likely has lots of experience (in the show he states that he already fucked someone as a lad. It's also implied that he was liberate with hook-ups in the past).

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Due to his dominant nature doggy comes natural to him. He thinks missionary is very much underrated, too. (Continuing a heated argument while fucking?!)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not goofy during sex. He's an animal who devours someone alive.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has dark, thick hair (head, face, arms, chest, legs and pubic hair) with overall moderate hairgrowth. It's all natural, he doesn't shave or trim anything. His beard is slowly turning grey by now.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Don't expect him to be sweet in any ways. It can happen accidentially, like once in a blue moon.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off to self regulate. This man has some serious anger issues. But most of the times he just does it for the pleasure.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Being called Daddy in a sexual situation gets him rock hard immediately.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He actually likes a bed the most. Which doesn't mean he can't fuck literally anywhere.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It really doesn't need much to get him going. Being blunt about it ("wanna fuck?") will bring good results.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn't let anyone penetrate his asshole.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving and receiving is equally fine.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's rough and his thrusting gets faster right before cumming.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He'd be like "yeah, whatever". Neither despises nor favors quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's quite vanilla to be honest. Which is everything but boring in his opinion. He'll likely won't engage in bondage, roleplay, excessive spanking, whipping, choking and similar practices.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He is in very good shape and has more stamina than some men twenty years younger than him. He usually has good control over his orgasm. Occasionally he cums early out of pure egoism.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't hate toys but is convinced he can do better. He also wouldn't like to have them used on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He gets impatient when he's being teased and it's getting dragged out too much.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's loud. Curses, grunts, moans, growls. Will unmistakably let his partner know when he's close.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He won't pull out early. He just won't do it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Has a massive girth and makes good use of it. 6½ inches in length when having an erection.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has an average to high sex drive. He was more active and chronically horny as a young man.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He can fall asleep quickly after finishing but it depends on his mood and whether he's got good rest the night before or not.

tagged by: found it tagging: steal it, i dare you.