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fanaticsnail · 8 months ago

Text

You're The Cure

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist here

Word Count: 4,300+

Synopsis: Law bought you a pretty flower from a port, wanting to impress you with it, and perhaps use it as a courting gift should you want him. As the Polar Tang's Herbalist, you know there is more to this flower than meets the eye. Trafalgar Law got more than what he bargained for with this little gift.

Themes: Pollen!Law x afab!reader, dubcon, desperate Law, Smut, mdni, NSFW, 18+ content, solo Law, edging, premature ejaculation, creampie, fluff

Notes: This little fic was brought to you by an incredibly recent ask that took control of my laptop. @sweetly-sicken, thank you for your ask - I hope you enjoy. @sordidmusings, @feral-artistry come get your man. He needs help (and thank you both for your help and your ears today while I wrote it).

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff @sexc-snail

Hunched over the desk in the greenhouse aboard the Polar Tang, Trafalgar D Water-Law scrunched his eyes tightly shut and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. His body was alight with a foreign passion he had never seen make it's equal. His clothes scratched and ignited his skin, the material of his heavy jacket weighing down his torso under the thick shroud of gray.

Peeling his hat from his body and tearing at the iron zipper of his coat, his body began moving on instinct alone. His mind was screaming at him for his appalling behavior as his hands scorched hot trails along the glistening skin on his stomach. Sweat poured from his temples, his lips parting and huffing as his hands moved at a will of their own below the waistband of his pants.

As his right hand gripped his achingly hard cock, he viciously began pistonning it within his fist, writhing and thrusting within it to match his brutal pace. His left hand snaked its way up his chest, pinching and circling the peaked bud of his right nipple as he mewled in desperation. He felt the approach of an impending orgasm stampede him towards release, the relief of the finish line almost within sight as he continued abusing his shiny knob and pummeling his shaft.

Just as he felt his body begin to tip its way over the edge, it fell away just as hastily. Panic wrote itself over his face: his eyes wide, his mouth agape with a thin trail saliva trickling down his chin in stringy strands.

“No, no, no, no,” he begged, pleading at his body to respond to the stimuli, picking up the pace and attempted to seek out his impending eruption for the second time, “No-... f-fuck-... Please.”

Choking his shaft, a momentary clarity sifted in his mind as his eyes snapped to the single, innocent, pale flower poking out of an unsuspecting, ceramic pot. The top of the flowers danced within the aura of the puffs of breath he was panting, the yellow hue of pollen tinting the air with a tang on his tongue and a burn in his nose.

“It’s that f-fucking flower, isn't i-it?” he chastised himself in a harsh whisper, laying his right hand flat over the desk as he thrust into his vice-like grip, “F-Fuck, it's the f-flower. Fuck.”

The sweetness of his release was once again in sight as he scrunched his eyes tightly shut. He released his nipple from his fingers, gripping the steel rim of the desk as he continued to writhe into his fist.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh sh-shit,” he choked on his words, desperately chasing an end that only rewarded him by sprinting away from within his reaching grasp. Again, the panic seared through his mind as he doubled down on his efforts, “No, no, no, no-o!”

Without any further thoughts about his elusive orgasm, he immediately elevated his left hand and splayed out his fingers. He growled out a desperate roar, his ink-tainted digits shaking as he attempted to activate his devil-fruit ability to expel the pollen like a foul demon from claiming his soul.

“R-Room- Ah fuck!” he exclaimed, his body immediately flopping over the desk as his body doubled its efforts against his iron-will. The intensity of the spouted dust increased it's crippling hold over his body, burrowing down deeper into every aspect of his body.

“Sh-Sh-... Sh-...” he arched his back, his brows knit in a tight furrowed concentration. Glancing at the flower once more, a pool of saliva began spilling over his bottom lip as sweat poured from his temple, “Sh-Shambles- AH NO!”

His cock danced with unresolved release, twitching within his fist as the intensity of his desire amplified. The devil-fruit abilities were doused by the fiery spray of the pollen in his respiratory system and blood stream. His body was not responding to his commands to expel it from himself by the supernatural means, nor the natural.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, falling back into the chair behind him and gyrating his hips rhythmically upwards to continue to match the pace of his pistoning fist.

As a final ditch effort to release himself from not only this spell, but to force himself to cum into his fist, he attempted to activate his Haki. Scrunching his eyes shut tightly before opening them once activated, the sparks of energy he intended on seeking fogged his mind with too frantic a stimuli.

Suddenly, he was aware of every white-hot wave of lust coursing through his veins. Everything ignited into a bright wave of light, his eyes not able to adjust to the flashes of the augmented hue. He shook his head, immediately shaking off the use of Haki from his widening eyes.

“H-Help,” he choked out a whimpered whisper, “I n-need help.” He mewled out a keening sob, desperately chasing his high within his right palm. He thrust his left hand into his hair, balling the sweat-damp strands into his fist and cried out for his release.

The bob in his thigh, the lightning bliss within reach again within the coiling band in his abdomen, everything was right there. Right there, until it wasn't.

“C’mon, Law!” He roared at himself, chasing his high. He focussed his ministrations on his frenulum, pinching and flicking his hand over the tight band of flesh, “You can do this. Gotta keep strong for the team. C-Can’t lettem’ know. You're better than th-this.”

He whined as his left hand once again chased the channels of his inked art up his chest, swirling his nipples beneath his calloused fingertips.

“F-fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cried in desperation, his cock refusing to spill over even the smallest amount of precum over the slit, no relief in his release being welcomed into his hand, “Why can't I do this? I-I need-... Shit-... I need-... Mmmfph-... I need help.”

“Anyone seen our captain?” You asked the crew gathered in the communal dining space. Downturned lips, shrugs and soft shakes of the heads from your crewmates unified in their puzzlement.

“Why? What's going on?” Bepo asked, his pale fur reflecting the buzzing illumines of the artificial light.

“Oh, he said he had something for me, is all,” you smiled at Bepo, clapping your hand over his shoulder with a polite smile, “Something about a flower he picked up from that strange port earlier today. Wanted me to have a look, see if I could extract anything of it.”

Bepo let out a small squeak of joy, stifling further joy from fleeing from his lips by clapping his paw over his muzzle. He sought out the corners of your face, gauging your emotions responding to a gift from the captain. You shook your head at the large, fuzzy bear with a small smirk.

“That kinda makes sense,” Penguin smirked up at you, shoveling his food into his lips and chomping down on the crunchy texture, “Seeing as though you're the herbal remedy spooky witch, and all. He's likely in your office, maybe even the greenhouse.”

“Herbalist, Pen,” you corrected him with a soft smirk and the shake of your head, “I didn't go to study permaculture, horticulture, botanical remedies alongside my bloody medical degree for you to refer to me as ‘herbal remedy spooky witch'.”

Cackles erupted from the table around you, your own chuckle joining with the crew as you rose to your feet. Discarding the contents from your tray, you then placed the empty tray atop the metal shelf for the cleaning crew to easily manage.

“Alright, family,” you called to your crewmen with a smile, “I'm off to take a look at that flower. I'll see you all for dinner later.”

“Bye, spooky witch,” Penguin chuckled at you, “Don't forget your broom on the way out.”

“Penguin!” Bepo scolded your hat-wearing crewman, prompting you to laugh in response. Shaking your head, you approached Penguin from behind, leaning down to lean into his ear with utter seriousness.

“Be sure not to test this witch’s patience,” you smirked, purring into his ear in a sultry whisper. Penguin's blood ran cold, feeling the warm heat cascading from your body as your cool breath met with the shell of his ear, “Or I may curse you with something as sinister as impotence.”

You laughed to yourself, turning and exiting the dining room to make your way towards your office. Noticing a dim light beneath the door, you cocked your head to the side as you narrowed your eyes.

A small wave of tinted dust swirled beneath the door, your eyes widening at the hue of the pollen particles. You immediately reached into your boiler suit, seeking out your personal mushi-shell and raising it to your lips.

“Bepo, you there?” You called to your fuzz-covered crewmate, “Important, honey. You there?” your snail jumped, Bepo’s voice expelling from the box with a hasty confirmation of, “I'm here, what's going on?”

“I need you to open the vents in the greenhouse and pump the room with clean air,” you ordered him, reaching for the door of your office and knocking on the cloudy glass of the window.

Rough panting, cursing and growling echoed from a masculine voice from within the room, your heartbeat increasing the longer you were standing outside the door. You had read about this pollen, recognised the hue immediately beneath the crack in the door, and you knew almost exactly what sight was going to meet with your eyes as soon as you turned the door handle.

“Bepo, did you flush the room?” You hastily hissed into the shell, a curt, “yes!” was confirmed in response.

“Good job, sweety,” you praised him, before knitting your brows up in concern with a very cautious question, “Bepo?”

“Yes, Herbalist?” Bepo asked into the shell, “Is there anything else I can do for you? You sound kinda panicked.”

“I just-... I don't know how to put it plainer than this at the moment…” You trailed off, unsure of how to pose this question without further questions being asked of yourself, “...You're the captain's closest confidant, Bepo. Do you know if he's taken a lover aboard the ship? Anyone he fancies that might reciprocate his-... Uhh-... Affections?”

A lull in the crackle prompted your heart to skip a few beats, patiently waiting for Bepo to answer your question. You were likely certain there were a few, including yourself, that took a shine to the broody and serious captain that manned the Heart-Pirates. You were aware of the cure for this disease he'd likely inflicted on himself, truly desiring to give him the treatment he'd actually consent to adhere to.

This was pollen from the pale-lust plant, a plant that only the smallest amount of dust could amplify and magnify the sexual experience of the person who inhales it. It was usually manufactured into perfumes and body oils for those who wanted to ‘spice up’ their love lives. And your Captain had likely doused himself in it.

“I'm not sure if it's my place to say, but from your tone of panic…” the shell muttered in Bepo’s calming cadence after several moments of silence, “...H-He hasn't ever thought about buying anyone aside you a gift at port before. A-And he really thought you'd like that flower he brought back for you.”

“Okay, Bepo,” you managed to choke out a small squeaked order, “I need you to block off all access to the botanical bay for the rest of the day. Captain's orders, okay? You're in charge.”

“Is everything okay? Do you need help-?” He questioned over the shell, you halting his voice by speaking over him.

“-The captain is likely experiencing some systemic shock at the moment,” you confessed, adjusting your uniform at your neck in an attempt to stifle your blush, “Judging from the hue of the dust, it's likely the plant he brought back had an effect that I doubt he would've prepared himself for.” You bit your lip, truly concerned for Law's wellbeing within your office, “I need you to take charge until either I, or Captain Law, tell you otherwise. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

“Aye, sir,” Bepo’s practiced reply barked into the speaker, you could almost visualize the salute on the other side of the transponder.

“Good boy,” you praised him, your hand moving down to the door handle and beginning to turn it, “I'm going to be out of contact for a while. I might still make it to dinner, but if I can't - please save me and the captain a plate!”

“Aye, sir!” he uttered again into the speaker, with a final, “Good luck with the captain!” Clicking aside the portable transponder, you thrust it into your pocket and shook aside your nerves.

Hastily, you flung wide the door, turning immediately upon entering and facing the door as you clicked it locked behind you. As soon as you entered the space, the sounds of rough slapping of hands meeting skin, huffs of exasperated panting, groans and pleads falling from your captain's panicked lips alongside his panting mewls of pleasure flung themselves loudly and carelessly into the air.

“Captain,” you whispered, your hands holding firm to the cloudy glass of your office door, “I know you're likely out of your own mind right now, but I'm going to tell you this anyway-.”

“-Fuck, what's happening to me? T-Tell me, please. Know I'm h-here. My h-head is here, I-I just-... ngmmh-...” he whined for you, the taste of your name tainting his tongue with desire and lust, “...don't judge me, please. I don't want this to change the image of myself in your head.”

Anticipation and a shameful wave of desire spread itself through your chest and ignited a throbbing need for your captain in your core. You knew this wouldn't be happening without this douse of pollen coursing through his veins, the raw need to chase his ecstacy within his fist behind you.

“All th-this because I wanted t’get you a-... f-fucking gift t’ court you-...” Law confessed with a whispered hiss, his eyes raking over your body with lust and need, “...M’guessing this's from that f-fucking flower I got for you. Is-s there a cure?”

A gasp flew from your lips at his confession, prompting you to almost glance over your shoulder at him. Deciding to give your captain a further shroud of decency, you halted your movement and chose your next words carefully.

“There's no cure I can manufacture here, Sir,” you whisper over your shoulder, “But there is one that I know of-.”

“-F-Fuck, please get it. Whatever it is. Get the fucking cure before I lose the final bit of control I h-have,” he roared your name, barking his orders as the skid of the iron legs of the chair backwards, raking against the steel floor. You jumped in shock, the shifting of material scattering prompted you to become more aware of his feral urges further.

Just as you began to turn your body to face your captain, two inked hands slammed against your own on the cloudy glass, prying them apart with a vice-like grip. Fingers laced between yours, his face fell in the crook of your shoulder as he deeply inhaled the scent of your perfume. He groaned at the feeling of his bare cock grinding in between the divet in your ass above your boiler suit, a shocked gasp fell from your lips in response.

“Fuck you smell good,” he moaned, his lips latching on your pulse as his tongue swirled against you, “Taste even fucking better.” You whined as his teeth sunk into your neck, his rhythmic grinding not easing against your clothed flesh.

His mind was hazy, his body was reacting to every subtle change in your voice and wavering breaths. As soon as you entered the room, it took all of his strength and will to not enter a state of frenzy and fuck into you with the deep ferocity of a wild beast. He owed you better than that. He wanted you to want him too, and if that meant holding onto his sanity by tooth and nail: so be it.

“Captain-,” you gasped as his right hand left yours to paw at the front zipper of your jumpsuit.

“-Law,” he growled his correction at you, “It’s Law, or anything other than my title or ‘sir’. Y-You-... fuck, sweetheart-... I n-need you. Please let me? Let me have you? Please?”

Slotting his hand over your chest, his fingers eagerly sought your left breast beneath the cup of your uniformed lingerie. He hastily rolled the peaked nub within his thumb, index and middle fingers; a cry of pleasure emanating from your throat as you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

“We can talk about it later,” he whispered into your ear, pinching at your nipple as he bit your earlobe, “Know that I wanted you before all this-... F-fuck-...but I need you now.”

He hastily turned you in his arms, splitting the top part of your boiler suit back and shedding it from your body as he claimed your lips beneath his. Allowing his primal desires to take the reins, he continued breaking you out of your clothes to match his own nudity: pinning you against the door with his rutting hips.

“What do I need to do? Tell me,” he moaned into your skin, his teeth catching on your own as you reciprocated his touch, “Guide me, my north star. Show me wh-what I gotta do.”

“Law,” you moaned for him, his body immediately pulling to you like iron to a magnet. Shedding the last of your clothes over your ankles, he used his feet to kick off your shoes. Cupping your thighs, he hoisted you into the air and hooked your knees over his hips.

“My north star,” he moaned into your skin, his lips clinging to every amount of flesh exposed to him, “You're the cure. You're the cure, aren't you? My body is telling me you are.” You moaned for him as he carried you over to your desk, lying you on the cool surface and hovering over your body.

“Anyone can be the cure for this, Law,” you confessed to him in a whimpering whisper, “It's the joining of bodies together that ends the torment. It's not me-.”

“-It is you,” he growled at you, hovering his lips just above yours and shaking from the amount of stress he placed himself under by holding back, “It's only ever been you. I need you. Better yet…” he lines his cock up with your glistening opening, the tip rubbing against your core prompting a small sob to exit from his lips.

“...I crave you,” his arms shook beneath his weight, the sheen of sweat pooling from his temple beneath his only hair down to his whiskered chin, “Always wanted you. Let me have you. Please say you'll let me have you.”

“You have me,” you confessed, tracing your arms over his quivering forearms down to his hips, clawing him to draw him nearer. Guiding his cock within your entrance, you angle his hips as his brow sets deep within its furrow.

“I feel like I'm gonna explode,” he confessed in a strangled whisper, “I-I’m sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

“It's okay, it's okay,” you soothed him with your calming voice, your thumbs pressing circular motions against his hip bones as he slid his cock to the hilt within you, “Use me, it's okay.”

As soon as the length of Law's cock slid to the back of your walls, he entered into a bliss he never would've imagined. His vision struck white, electricity sparking the flames of his encumbering lust as he shot you deep with spurts of his sticky cum.

Barely having time to adjust to his size, he was already crying out for you. He immediately burst with his passionate release painting your gummy walls white, praising you for your gift to him while sobbing in deep pleas of anguish.

“Fuck, I'm c-cumming. I'm f-fucking cumming. I'm already-...” He mewled your name, huffing as he barely began moving within you, “...I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I-... hhah, fuck-... I'm sorry-... nngh- s-so good.”

You pawed at his ass, clutching onto his checks and held him deep within you, hips flush with your own. The twitches of his muscles all rippled with the expulsion of the final waves of his cum deep within you.

“I'm sorry,” he repeated in a whisper, alongside chanting your name like a prayer, “I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay, love, I know,” you hushed him, his body collapsing atop your own and caging you beneath him on your desk. You drew your hands up to his damp hair, fingers brushing away the strands and cradling him close.

Finally collecting his breath, his heartbeat slowing to a more forgiving beat, he refused to tear his face away from the crease of your neck and shoulder. Embarrassment at, not only, the hasty release of his cum within you had a red hue illuminating Law’s face. He was also appalled at the fact his surprise gift for you was a toxic aphrodisiac, one he fell within the snare of with no known cure.

“Law, look at me,” you cooed down at him, prompting him to nuzzle his pouting face deeper into your skin. You tried your best to stifle your giggle to no avail - your laughter aimed at his utter childishness.

“Law,” you chastised him, angling the heels of your palms down to collect his cheeks, “C’mon, love. Let me see those pretty eyes of yours. Look at me.”

He huffed out a breath of exasperation, finally tearing his face away from your shoulder and bringing his pouty face up to meet yours. His eyebrows were knit in a single point in the middle of his face, his eyes wide and filled with shame.

“I'm sorry, herbalist,” he acknowledged your formal rank, his cock still deeply held within you, “I am better than this. I-I promise I'm better than this.” You arched a single brow up with your growing smirk.

“Herbalist?” you parroted back at him, brushing your nose against his, “What happened to my name, or ‘my North Star’? I quite liked that one,” his blush deepened, the dark dusting of vibrant red cascading over his nose, cheeks and tips of his ears.

“Well, what happened to ‘love’, huh? Where'd that go?” he quipped back at you, gliding his reducing cock out of your walls, releasing the floodgates of his excessive load of cum expelling from your pussy. He shifted himself away, glancing down at the expulsion of his cum dripping onto your office floor.

“Fuck,” he shuddered out in a small whispered groan, “That was a bit more than I thought there would be. Room…” he extended his left hand upwards, the spatter on the floor and still within you vanishing with a further utterance of, “...Shambles.”

A small splash of water fell onto the floor, and a small spurt against your groin. You shot Law a quizzical look, prompting a smirk to rise on his cheeks.

“I tried washing my face in your sink as soon as I got a waft of the flower dust in my face,” he shrugged before nodding his head over to your herbalist station, “Water was still in it.”

Smiling, you leant up with your elbows behind your back, looking at the man who was priorly all consumed with feral lust. He looked accusingly at the pale flower in the small pot beside your naturopathic remedial herbs, eyes narrowed and lip snarling.

“It's the last time I'm buying you a fucking plant,” he muttered, turning to meet his eyes with yours, “Without checking with you first, of course,” he reached down with his right hand, smiling as you accepted his hand, “I want to buy you all the plants you could ever want,” he aided you to rise to your feet, guiding your hands to lace behind his neck.

“Thank you, love,” you smiled at him, prompting his eyes to crease with his own joy at the return of your name for him.

“Anything for my north star,” he pressed a gentle kiss atop your head, “My guiding light,” his lips trailed down to brush against the apple of your cheek, “My pretty map spiriting me home to hold you in my arms again,” he snaked his forearms around your waist, his smiling lips collecting yours beneath his.

Parting your lips, he angled his head to the side and pressed several waves of passionate caresses against your mouth. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, dipping his knees to elevate you within the air, his smile widening at the small squeak of surprise you released from your mouth to his.

He placed you onto the floor again, chasing your retreating lips as you arched your back to press your exposed chest against his. The warmth of your skin spread from your body onto his, the heat radiating from his body engulfing your own with a warm infusion of radiant bliss.

“You absolute sappy romantic,” you teased him as you broke from the kiss shared with him, “Didn't know you had all that in you. You must really like me.”

Scoffing back his laughter at your taunt, he squeezed your body against his. You laughed at his playful expression, leaning up to press a small kiss against his whiskered chin.

“Alright. Fuck you, you brat,” he laughed, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous grin, “I was gonna let you top me, use me to get your own release from me, but now- ohhhh, now,” he shuddered a sinister whisper down at you, “Now you're gonna get it.”

“I'm absolutely shaking,” you taunted him further, your teeth nipping at his jaw, “Shaking, quivering and cowering.”

“Not now, you're not,” he growled at you, lifting you within his arms and hooking your knees over his hips once more, “But you fucking will be when I'm done with you.”

#one piece #x reader #op law #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water-law #law x reader #law smut #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader

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prejac-life · 9 months ago

Note

I offer you 2 pills. The blue one: you cure your porn addiction and premature ejaculation. Now you can last long and give your wife pleasure, you will have a loving family. The red one: your premature ejaculation gets worse to the point where you even can not penetrate women because your pussy penetration anxiety becomes so strong. Also you meet consequences as your wife will leave you or make you a cuckold. Wich pill you will choose, huh?)

This scenario presumes a prejac actually has a choice in who and what they are.

The red pill. Why?

I have no say in what arouses me. I love women. They are remarkable to me. It's only natural to be so aroused by them that I can't help but shoot my load quickly.

Maybe discovering femdom humiliation porn and jerking off to those JOI clips over the years rewired my brain to be permanently turned on by the thought of submitting to a powerful woman.

Ejaculating prematurely for a woman is the ultimate form of submission. It's embarrassing when a grown "experienced" man can't hold his load. It's humbling. It breaks down the male ego and fully exposes the man for what he actually is to her. He's nothing more than a horny, helpless little boy. We all are, really.

#prejac #premature ejaculator

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pedroshotwifey · 8 months ago

Text

Should've Stayed Bored

Please understand that this is a crack fic based on this post by @bonezone44 and the comments made by @covetyou on said post ) Also tagging other commenters on that post: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog snowflake-blog@bubble-pop-eclectic @lunitawrites

Pairing: Chump!Joel Miller × fem!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags/Warnings: Joel Miller NOT being a sex god, left flap rubbing, mention of the clit, piv sex (if you could call it that), premature ejaculation, age gap, dad's buddy!joel miller, bad make out sessions, misplaced confidence, secondhand embarrassment, crack fic

Summary: You really need to learn to lower your expectations.

A/N: I actually had a great time writing this and think it turned out really fucking funny.

A/N pt. 2: Well, the og post got fucking deleted, but here it is again. Fucking pissed. I would really appreciate any interaction even if you already did the first time just so I can get it back out there </3

special thanks to @romanarose, @wannab-urs, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, and everyone else who helped me calm my tits and post this again. Love y'all ❤

*****

You’re bored out of your fucking mind. You’ve had four drinks and have walked in and out of the house probably a dozen times. For a neighborhood barbeque, it’s uneventful as hell. You would think that there would at least be a few interesting people out of so many. But no. So far there’s a group of old ladies gathered around the pool in sun chairs, their husbands around the grill talking about sports, and some kids—probably grandkids—running rampant around the yard.

That’s what your dad gets for moving into a retiree neighborhood. There’s only a few other households you know of that don’t host couples in their late sixties. Kind of like, speak of the devil, the Millers, who are walking in through the yard gate right now.

It’s only the two of them—Joel and his daughter, Sarah, who is only about eight. She runs off to go play with the other kids and you smile as you spot Joel struggling to carry a bowl and latch the gate back at the same time. You immediately take the opportunity to walk toward him.

You’ve always had your eyes on Joel Miller, even though he’s only a few years younger than your father. He’s a DILF in all ways that count. Sweet, responsible, and hot as hell.

“Hey, Mr. Miller,” you grab his attention as you reach where he’s still trying to balance everything. His face lights up when he sees you coming to help.

“Hey, darlin’, you don’t mind helpin’ me with this, do ya?” he nods his head to the gate.

“Nope, not at all,” you say sweetly as you get the gate latched behind him. He beams at you as he shifts to hold his dish with both hands. It looks heavy.

“Thank you. And please, call me Joel.” He flashes you a wink that makes your stomach flutter before he starts for the back door.

With nothing better to do, you follow him inside. He’s putting his bowl in the fridge when you close the door behind you and take a spot leaning against the counter. There’s nobody else inside right now, and you realize you might have just found your cure for boredom.

You slide up next to Joel as he stands up.

“What did you bring, Mr. Miller?” you ask him in an over the top sweet voice.

He shoots you a pointed look and takes a step back to put a few inches between the two of you.

“Potato salad,” he says flatly. “And please, it’s just Joel.”

“Well, Joel,” you take a step toward him again. “I’m bored.”

You swear you see him gulp, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him. He glances out the window, probably looking for your dad manning the grill.

“Darlin’,” he says in warning. “I’m sure you can find something out there to do.”

You pout at him. “But I found something to do in here.”

“Honey, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” you banter. “You don’t want to fuck me, Joel? I see the way you look at me.”

He surges forward, trapping you against the counter. You smile wildly at him and throw your arms around his neck.

“Get your ass upstairs, now,” he growls. “Strip and wait on your bed.”

Your pussy flutters at his command, excitement building in your stomach.

“Yes, Mr. Miller. Don’t be long.” You flash him a wink and slide from in front of him to make your way upstairs. You feel his eyes on you until you reach the top step.

He only waits a little while, presumably to cover his bases so it doesn’t look like he’s sneaking off with his friend’s much-too-young daughter, before following you up. And by that time, you’re already naked and sitting on your bed.

He comes in and shuts the door behind him, making sure it’s locked tightly before turning around. Your eyes go to the massive tent in his pants, your tongue coming out to wet your lips.

“You’re fuckin gorgeous, darlin’,” he says as he takes a step toward you, already starting to unbuckle his jeans. He pulls his heavy cock out and your lips part. You’d expected him to be big, but holy shit.

“C’mon, baby, lay back for me.”

You let him push you down on your back, and then scootch up a bit so that you’re resting with your head on the pillows. Your body is practically humming with excitement and need. Being with an older man has always been something high up on your bucket list, because there’s no doubt they know how to properly pleasure a woman. And a man like Joel Miller…you can’t fucking wait.

He leans over you and takes your lips in a sloppy kiss. You wind your arms around him and arch your back, begging silently for him to touch you already. He slips his tongue inside your mouth, and your eyes widen.

He’s just…licking.

You find it really hot when a man uses his tongue to make out with you, but. Not like this. You rear your head back, trying to gain control of the kiss. But then his hand starts to trail down to your center and you decide, whatever, you can pick and choose your battles. You’ll let him do whatever the fuck he thinks he’s doing to your mouth as long as he gets those thick fingers inside of you already.

He trails down, down, oh, there, he pets your clit and you shiver, and then—

Then he continues down…and to the left.

He starts rubbing circles on your left flap, and you furrow your brows.

What the actual fuck??

You unwind your arms and start pushing on his chest until he pulls his tongue from your mouth to gaze down at you.

“Joel, you—”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that, don’t you, baby?”

You just blink at him. What?

He winks at you. “I know, darlin’, feels real good, huh?” He dips back down to start kissing you again, thankfully leaving his damn tongue out of it. His fingers increase pressure, which you can only guess would feel really good if he was actually rubbing your clit.

“Joel,” you mutter against his lips again, but it comes out smushed and smothered. Kind of like your poor pussy right now. Or the outside of it, at least.

“So impatient,” he laughs. “Hold on one second, baby, Mr. Miller’s got you.”

You resist the urge to cringe at that.

He taps your abused pussy lip twice and retracts his hand to grasp his cock, which you’re now worried about. Hopefully he knows how to fucking use that thing. He guides his tip to your entrance—or tries to, rather, and you groan in defeat. He rubs it up and down your slit, prodding every second or so.

“Yeah, baby, fuckin’ love those sounds you make for me.”

You just stare at him. You’re not going to even pretend. This is just insane. How the hell did he actually make a kid??

Finally, he finds your hole—the right one, thank god—and starts to push in. You’re still pretty wet from earlier, though you’re sure there will be no developments in that department. Thankfully, it’s enough to ease the stuttering glide.

Once he’s fully in, he starts to thrust, and you grip on to him, holding on to that last hope that maybe he can nail your g-spot with that weapon of his.

“M…Feel so g-good, baby,” Joel moans.

He thrusts once, twice, three times, moaning like a fucking animal.

And then he pulls out. And shakes above you as he spills his cum on your lower belly.

You stare at him in shock as he rolls over and collapses beside you. His eyes are closed as he pants and reaches a hand over you to touch your stomach.

“You came?” he asks.

You consider lying to him, but figure he doesn’t deserve that.

“No, Joel, I did not fucking come.”

“Oh, okay. Tha’s alright. Get you next time.”

You sit up and gape at him.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

He looks at you with confusion but gets up after a moment. He yawns, tucks himself into his pants, and struts for your door.

“Don’t be ashamed to ask for more, darlin’. I wouldn’t be opposed to doin’ this again sometime.” He sends you a wink and walks out of the room before you get the chance to say something you’ll regret more than whatever the fuck just happened.

You learned a valuabale lesson today: age really does not fucking matter.

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sourpatchys · 11 months ago

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Title: Thorns’n Roses

Rating: NSFW❤️‍🔥 minors DNI

Warning: premature ejaculation

Time: after overhaul, before Deika City

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: The beating of two hearts can finally become one. The realization of feelings, and the fear of separation. •FEMALE READER•

The warehouse was cold, its broken down walls and caved in floors left much to be desired in the thought of comfort. Though, as being in the league has taught you– it could always be worse.

Even with the cracked windows, boarded up doorways and splinter infested surfaces, this was a far cry from the worst place you’d had to call home within these past few months. At the very least this place had a few broken down mattresses that had been left by fellow squatters over the years– a good change of pace from sleeping on leaves and concrete.

Though, through it all– you couldn’t think of a place you’d rather be. The dripping water and old creaks left you feeling calm, the cold air soothed your hot skin– this was the life you’d chosen, and it was a beautiful reality. Someday, maybe the world would allow you to be like the others, to perhaps build a life worth slowing down for, but that dream was far away– just beyond your reach.

The league mostly stayed separate, going alone or in pairs to the next location to help cease wandering eyes from staring too long. Fugitives couldn’t risk being recognized, as a whole it was safer to go alone, meeting up with Shigaraki once every few days to decide our next move.

As luck would have it, you were with Shigaraki this week. Kurogiri liked to say it was for the sake of the leader's protection– but you knew otherwise. The truth was, Tomura Shigaraki was the league's protection, a safety blanket for the unknown. He always had the answers, he always had a plan– and when he didn't we knew it simply wasn’t time to act. Truth be told, he was the reason you stayed.

Being a villain wasn't on your bingo card, it wasn’t something you ever thought you would have chosen for yourself– being on the run wasn’t something that was new for you though, and that's how he’d found you– crying in an alleyway after losing control, afraid of what you were capable of.

He made you realize there was no reason to be afraid– that fighting back was a part of life. Those exact words had never left his lips, in fact he rarely spoke to you at all, his mere presence and demeanor were enough to make you understand the lessons you were taught.

Shigaraki was never afraid to do what he wanted– needed to do. So you decided you wouldn’t be either.

He was sitting on an old shipping box, staring into space– his eyes weren’t focused, it seemed as if he was letting himself rest after weeks of fighting. Something in you wanted to believe that you had given him his relaxation– that you had somehow saved him from his anxieties just by being there.

Finally, he turned to you, his eyes harsh, yet somehow forgiving all the same. They were red like rubys, like two crystal clear seas of blood– or perhaps like a rose, covered in thorns, ready for its next victim.

It was as if you were possessed, like the words left your mouth without even processing through your own skull– “Your eyes are really pretty.”

He looked just as shocked as you felt, his brows raising and then falling, showing you more of his beautiful red.

“What?”

His voice was shaken, a tone in which you had never heard from him– it wasn’t anger, it wasn’t fury– he was confused, upset even. Maybe you needed to say it again? Surly he just hadn’t heard you right the first time.

“I said your eyes– they’re pretty.”

This didn't seem to cure his new demeanor. He was supposed to have all the answers– but at this moment, it was as if he’d never had a correct answer in his life. He didn't know what to say, where to look, or how to continue. Yet something in him yearned to keep this going, he wanted to hear you again, the sincerity in your voice had him crumbling in a way he never knew possible.

“Yours are too.”

He’d never given another person a compliment, he wasn’t sure if he had even done it right. If not for the slight flush on your face, he may never have gotten the answer. His body felt hot, his hands were sweating and he swore his heart was beating twice as fast. It was similar to anger in a way– though he didn't wish for this feeling to stop, he didn't crave the crash of emotions he got after killing, or the need to scratch. It was a strange sensation, and he was sure you were trying to kill him– but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

You were just the same, three seconds away from a heart attack. You were sure you'd heard him wrong, but the softness in his rose like eyes told you otherwise, and suddenly you were melting in the palm of his hands. It felt as though he had all five of his fingers wrapped against your throat, and you craved more of the delicious feeling. You were pudding, but you felt brave, braver than you ever had in your 20 years of life.

“They remind me of a newly blossomed rose after a storm, so beautiful and yet so dangerous you can’t help but want to pluck it for yourself.”

A thoughtful look crossed his face as he stared at you, as if he were digesting your words bit by bit, savoring the flavor on his tongue.

“Beautiful, huh?”

“Yes, I think so.”

It was then he stood, walking his way towards you before sitting down across from you on the cold damp floor. He seemed to be examining you, looking for something he couldn’t quite place.

“Are you trying to get under my skin? It wont work.” he lied– as far as he was concerned you were nestled right into the muscle.

You swallowed, this was as close as you'd ever had the pleasure of being to one another, you didn’t want to push him away.

“No Shigaraki, I'm just being honest.”

He glared at you, his eyes showing distrust, though a pale blush started to form across his neck. A part of you wondered if his ears got red when he was embarrassed– you desperately wanted to find out.

“So you honestly think I'm ‘beautiful’.”

The word was spit out of his mouth with such disgust, you almost didn't recognize it– as if it were completely foreign to your vocabulary. Though his utter repulsion for the word did not make your statement any less true, in fact it only made you want to drill it harder, to see him accept your thoughts on the matter no matter the cost.

“Yes–” you reached out your hand, touching your soft subtle flesh across his scarred rough skin, looking into his soul– “I think you're beautiful.”

Shigaraki didn’t know how to react, he didn't know how to do anything. It was as if he had lost complete connection to his body, only able to stare, basking in the warmth you've given him. His body is frigid, long since forgetting the feeling of a gentle touch– he thought he may become addicted to the feeling now that it was in his grasp once more.

Noticing his reluctance, you moved to sit on your knees– slowly, so as to not startle him further– you placed your other hand on the other side of his warming face. It felt as though you had the world in your hands, and you found yourself loving the feeling it gave you.

Was that what this was? Affection?

The thought of closing the gap between your bodies made you shiver with excitement, and then– and only then– could you handle the truth.

You were in love with Tomura Shigaraki.

The man in question was in confused bliss, he never knew the touch of another could feel so– innocent– so subtle. He wanted more, he wanted every part of you– anything you'd let him have, he decided he would take.

“Shigaraki?” you whispered, refusing to speak any louder, afraid of losing the bubble you had so carefully crafted together.

He hummed at you, his eyes tracing every corner of your face– making sure to confine it to his memories. This moment was one he refused to forget.

“Can I try something?”

As if he knew what your simple request was, he stared down to your lips– flicking his unfocused gaze between them and your eyes– silently giving you permission to continue, letting you take the lead.

As your soft lips grazed his own, he found that he never wanted to feel anything else. He couldn’t close his eyes, much too enthralled by the soft look on your face, a look of content in which he never assumed he would be on the other end of.

He realized that maybe– he didn’t hate everything. No– he could never hate you, nor the feelings you were giving him.

The kiss was short and sweet, only lasting a few seconds before you were pulling away, looking for his reaction, nervous about what you might find. You didn't have much time to look however, as soon he was wrapping his arm around your head, sure not to touch you with his deadly fingers, drawing you to his mouth once more.

This kiss was not soft, though it was enthralling just the same. Your mouths moved in sync, quickly finding a rhythm only the two of you would ever be able to share. It was filthy, sloppy, untamed– but it was perfect all the same.

Tomura’s rough lips slid against your own, you couldn’t think of any kiss you'd ever shared feeling as wonderful as this– you felt as though your world was finally spinning again, as though the last piece to your puzzle had been clicked into place.

You made him feel alive. Like nothing in this world could hurt him any longer.

Breaking the kiss was one of the hardest tasks either of you had ever faced up to that point. The need to stay connected, to feel the others skin across their own– it was a pull unlike any other. Shigaraki looked at you with a gaze you had never seen before, one of contentment. You had done it– you'd relaxed his entire being all on your own. You brought that side of him out– you and you alone.

The look of your face, glossed over eyes and puffy lips, stirred something in Shigaraki, he never wanted anyone to see you the way that he was seeing you, he wanted this for him and him alone.

The tension was thick, yet bubbly all the same, each of you wanted the same thing– each other. And yet the words had escaped both of your throats, unable to be spoken freely.

You leaned in, resting your head in the crook of his neck, your breath was still coming in waves, seemingly unable to recover. He let you, wrapping his arms around you in a protective stance. Even without the words being spoken, the fate was sealed– you belonged to Tomura Shigaraki.

Moments that felt like hours passed without a word, the dripping of the building and the harsh wind outside being the only noise keeping the two of you centered.

Shigarakis throat bobbed as he cleared his throat, the warmth under his skin reaching your cheek in record time.

“I think you are too.”

It took you a moment to understand his words– sitting up and looking at his flushed face, you couldn't help but allow a soft smile to spread across your face. He looked away from you, overcome with the need to hold you once more. It was overwhelming, all of this at once, he wasn't sure what he'd do if you looked at him with those same eyes every time he got to see you.

Suddenly it hit him– after this week, there was no telling where you'd be stationed. You couldn’t stay with him long term, the risk of being found was too great– fanning out and changing location was the only way to stay out of the light– to be hidden in the shadows in a world full of light.

He found his heart aching at the thought– he had only just realized his affections, he had only just felt your soft tender skin on his own, he couldn’t bear being away from you– he was selfish, it had gotten him into trouble many times– and yet now he had to think of your safety as well.

Surly you'd be safest with him, not alone, not with one of the other members– with him.

As the days began to pass, each more attentive than the last, he couldn’t help but continue to worry. He needed everything to be in place, he needed you to stay with him, to be with him always.

He began treasuring your mornings together, watching you open your sleep-ridden eyes, hearing you mumble nonsense while you were dreaming– the feel of your lips on his skin, the touch of your hands, the feeling of your warmth as you hugged him tight.

One day you had woken before him, and he had the pleasure of waking to the sound of your beautiful voice humming sweet nothings as you traced abstract patterns over his back.

The two of you had created something wonderful, a domestic piece of bliss in their otherwise gruesome line of work. You grounded him in a way he never thought was possible, you made him feel whole. While with you– he knew no hate– he knew not anger. All he knew was your warmth, your laugh, your smile.

Oh how he wanted to keep it forever, tucked away in his pocket to carry with him always.

It was as if you were a porcelain doll, and he was doing everything in his power to keep you from breaking. He had never known seeing another person happy to be alive could be so invigorating.

This morning was unlike the others, as it was possibly the last morning you'd get to spend together until a better arrangement could be made– the thought of you leaving his arms even for a moment made him sick to his stomach. He was hoping, with everything in him, that the power that Kurogiri had promised him would come soon, he needed to be the king, with you his queen.

He fell hard and he fell fast, as did you. The bond you shared was unlike any other– you needed one another– you craved one another.

He felt your body begin to twitch as you began to wake, your tender loving hands gripped onto his shirt, and your face scrunched pushing its way into his dark clothing– trying subconsciously to block the sun, annoyed by its rays.

He found it to be quite amusing.

“The sun is here to stay.” he found himself saying, enjoying the way you groaned in frustration towards his words.

“Kill it.”

That got a genuine laugh out of him– his own personal ball of sunshine being such a grumpy riser, it was nothing if not poetic.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead, an action that had become more than natural by this point, he always had his grubby little hands on you one way or another.

You hummed softly at his attempts to wake you– your eyes opening softly, ready to greet the day albeit reluctantly. You weren't happy about leaving either, it had been on your mind since the moment you shared your first kiss together. The fear of leaving the man in which you held so dear. But perhaps the distance would make your connection grow stronger– perhaps the world wasn't ready for the two of you to forever join together quite just yet.

You could feel yourself frowning at the thought, clutching harder onto the fabric between your fingers.

Shigaraki didn't say anything, letting you feel whatever you needed too, though he didn't enjoy your frustrations, he couldn’t solve them– not yet– not without power.

He felt as your warm tired– angry– hand made its way under his worn down shirt, slinking its way up his torso. His breath hitched at the feeling, though he stayed still, letting you do as you pleased. What kind of king would he be if he told his queen no?

Your hand continued to make its way over his pale harsh skin, his muscles tightening under your soft skin, unused to the feeling, yet craving more– he wanted you, he wanted to eat you whole and leave nothing left– to claim your flesh as his own, so that no matter where you wound up, his touch would stay with you forever.

You wanted just the same.

“Tomura?”

His name fell from your lips like lace, he was sure he’d never heard such a beautiful sound. He gulped, afraid of breaking the trance you were in, wanting nothing more than to stay in the moment you had created.

“Yeah?”

“Can I do something?”

The vibrations that shook his core were nothing if not violent. Your voice was as sweet as velvet, your mock innocence made him want to beg, to plead for you to do whatever you wanted, so long as it involved him and no one else. You were beautiful, looking up into his rose colored eyes through your eyelashes, waiting patiently for his answer– for his permission.

Who was he to refuse you?

“Of course.”

That's all it took for your soft, gentle hand to become harsh and demanding, running its way up his torso as if it belonged to you. You sat up, taking no time at all to put both of your precious hands on his frame, sliding away at his overworn shirt, pushing it above his head.

His breathing had all but stopped, giving you utter control over what you were going to do to him next– after all, he had given you his explicit permission to do as you pleased– he wasn't the kind of man to go back on his word.

You traced patterns along his rib cage, sliding your thumbs against his scars, paying special attention to the old healed over bullet wounds from his first endeavor as a full fledged villain. He never paid much mind to his scars, he felt natural about them– they were simply the results of his labor, something that was to be expected if he were to fight for destruction. Though, with your gentle caresses, he found himself awed by them, wishing he had more to show, just for your eyes to see.

It was only when you dipped your head and licked a ling stripe up his stomach that he truly realized what your intentions were– it scared him, it enthralled him– he wanted more.

As your fingers made their way to the hem of his pantline, he propped his body up on his arms, not willing to look away from you for a single second as you popped open his button and rolled down his zipper.

His body was electric, zapping and zipping from his toes up to his head. He could feel himself growing erect, the thought alone of you wishing to touch him had him groaning. The sight before him was one he would never forget, your lovely eyes widening as you released his cock from its confines.

Before touching him, you had to ask a question that had been eating away at you– a question you hoped you already knew the answer to.

You looked up into his glossed over eyes, his mouth slightly agape as he took you in.

“Have you ever done this before Tomura?”

There it was again, the sound of his name falling from your perfect lips, it sent a shockwave down his core, his cock twitching in excitement for what was to come– but you had asked him a question– a question he needed to answer before you would continue your mission.

“No– you're the only one.”

It was true, as of today you had been his first everything, his first kiss, his first crush, love, want. You alone held this unstoppable power over his being. It didn't frighten him nearly as much as it should have.

A smile rose to your face, it was a true smile, a toothy grin that had his heart pounding. How? How in the midst of seducing him– did you manage to make his heart melt?

You went to continue, dropping your hand down to grasp his throbbing member in your hands, he hissed at the new sensation– he’d never expected just a small gesture to unwind him so fully. He knew, if you continued on with your plans he would be gone before long, unable to keep up with your alluring ways– completely undone by your soft warm hands.

“Wait!” he growled, placing his hand over your own, sure to lift his pinkie even as his cogs were unwinding. He wanted to become one with you, he wanted to claim you– to take the reins, to pleasure you thoroughly.

Surprised, you did as told– stopping completely in your tracks, ready to hear your orders.

“I– I won't be able to last like this, I want you. I want you in full.”

His tone was dangerous, like a hunter to its prey– it sent a shock of warmth down to your own heat, a sensation that's never happened with words alone.

He took you and flipped your positions, your body landing on the old squeaky mattress with a puff, immediately spreading your legs, unable to contain yourself after seeing the look in those rose red eyes.

Shigaraki climbed over you, his cock hanging between your bodies, glistening with precum already– unable to control itself at the sight of you submitting to him so easily. He needed you, he needed your wet head to surround him– that's the only way he could die happy– he was sure of it.

“Take them off.”

He tugged two of his fingers against your clothes, unwilling to risk the thought of destroying such beautiful garments that hugged your frame so wonderfully.

The edge and shake to his voice had you trembling in anticipation, ready to bend to his every whim. Slowly you began to pull off your clothing piece by piece, all the while he couldn't look away. Your breasts gleamed with the sun's opposing rays, your nipples erect from the cold air around you– it was a sight to behold– a sight just for him. He was sure then– that if there had been anyone else before him– hed make you forget every single one of them– he’d tear them apart limb from limb. No living being other than him was allowed to see what lay underneath.

As you removed your underwear, he swore he was salivating, your wonderfully crafted thighs shaking, your glistening folds out in the open for his viewing pleasure. He couldn't stop himself from running his finger up and down your damp slit, basking in the realization that he made you that way.

You gasped at his touch, arching your back in a silent beg for more.

“You like when I touch you?” he chuckled, rounding your clit with his calloused thumb- you borderline screamed at the feeling, nodding your head frantically. He continued with his assault, his middle finger making its way to your dripping entrance, teasing the area as he basked in the sound of your cries.

“Please, Tomura– please touch me!”

It was a pitiful wine, and if you weren’t in such an out of bodied state you may have even been embarrassed, though for the moment you were just thankful, because you could feel his finger pressing its way into your folds, wiggling itself around until tit found the perfect spot– the spot that had you seeing stars in the middle of the day.

His hand was fast, fucking you with purpuse, making sure to hit the spot that had you squealing over and over again, unwilling to let up.

“Say it again– say my name again.” he was right by your ear, kissing up and down your throat, using his teeth to bite and suck on any spot he found worthy of his affection.

“Tomura!” you cried, fucking yourself down on his hand as he added another finger.

“Again!” he growled, biting into your throat, making sure to leave the impression of his teeth behind, unwilling to stop until he suited you properly marked as his.

“TOMURA!” you screamed as a flood of pleasure erupted into your body popping just as soon as it arrived– your body jerking as tears ran down your face, unable to hold in the pleasure he was giving you.

Slowly his fingers stopped their brutal pace, popping out one by one as his thumb gave your clit a few extra lazy circles that had you sobbing from overstimulation.

He almost came right there, memorized by your body begging for his attention and then snapping in two once it became too much.

Your breath was hollow, shaking, and unstable– but you weren't done yet, you had only just begun.

Using all the strength you had left you wrapped your legs around Shigaraki, pulling him as close to yourself as possible.

He yelped in surprise, his head falling into the throat that he had thoroughly loved.

“What–”

“Fuck me Tomura.”

He groaned, his cock twitching at your demand, but oh so ready to grant your wish.

Slowly, he lined himself up with your sopping wet heat, he took a deep breath, preparing his body for what is sure to be something completely and utterly overwhelming.

Pushing into you, you both groaned, the feeling of being full and the feeling of being sucked in taking you both in an instant.

Shigarakis' breaths were few and far between, and he wasn't moving.

“Tomura?” you questioned, turning your head to look at his face.

“I'm going to cum if I move.” he whispered, embarrassment fully taking over any power he thought he had.

“Do it then!” you laughed, using your legs to force him to move just a bit.

He thrust back, whimpering before his body jerked and he fell on top of you.

“Wow, you weren't kidding.” you joked, giggling at the circumstance, feeling on top of the world for having the world's most dangerous villain fall apart right before your eyes.

“Shut up.”

—

As the day came to a close, you found yourself rushing towards Kurogiris last known whereabouts.

You didn't have to leave Shigaraki afterall.

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