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star2fishmeg · 9 days ago

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ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ǫ(ᴜɪᴄᴋɪᴇ)

[3.8k] Pairing | Quinn Hughes x afab!reader Summary | Tedious events paired with his beloved dolled up just release that dog in him Warnings | 18+ smut, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), swearing, minor ass slapping, gagging (panties), making out, mild derogation kink (slut) Authors Note | This is dedicated to all the Quinn girlies who follow me - spare me I haven’t written Q in a while. I am planning to write Jack too, I swear <3 and I really hate how this font screws up the ‘Q’. This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes

The moment he saw the ‘Q’ embroidered on her evening gown, she had him on a leash. She had him grinning and tracing his fingers over the letter cleverly stitched on the hip, perfectly positioned where Quinn loved to place his hand. He wasn’t the kind of guy to brag about anything, but there were occasions when he thrived in showing her off to people, out of pride and with the swell in his heart.

Y/n’s eyes flickered from one businessman to the other and then back to Quinn. She’d never seen either of these men before and she’d attended a reasonable number of Quinn’s important Canucks events. Yet, she remained tucked into his side, his arm wrapped around her waist and hand securely on her hip, his thumb rubbing over the embroidered ‘Q’ that settled there for him. Whatever the other men were saying drowned out in her ears, the only voice that mattered was Quinn’s and how soothing it was to get lost in, letting it pick her up and sweep her away while the boring conversation in which she’d heard hundreds of times droned on. She knew she shouldn’t think that, but at least she was an honest woman, able to recite word for word Quinn’s answers and what they truly meant.

His hand tightened on her hip, gripped, and what started as soothing over the embroidery turned to his whole hand running up and down her waist, eyes struggling to maintain on the men in front and not wander down to her cleavage. She looked far too divine in the dress, too sexy for an event, the dress complimented her in every form possible and the moment she stepped out in it, his stomach flipped, and his body surged with warm, adrenaline. Heart eyes, drooling. How was he supposed to keep his cool when his girlfriend looked stunning, how was he supposed to keep his hands to himself when she’d claimed him in the fabric, silently bragging to everyone who she was, showing the lengths she’d go for him?

She tapped his shoulder, and he leaned down slightly, her breath hot against his neck as she murmured, “You seem busy, Captain. I’m getting a drink.”

With a coy smirk across her pretty lips, she turned and walked away with swaying hips, her touch lingering on his chest and all he could do was wet his lips and watch her leave. Heat flushed through him and to his face, tie suddenly too tight and he tugged at it, playing it off as just normal suit warmness when the businessmen piped up again with their chuckling. When she wasn’t with him, he realised how heads over heels he was for her, an emptiness by his side and there she was, leaning over the bar, without him when she could be giving him that siren look she had, luring him into her waters where she’d be unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it over his shoulders and running her lips slowly down his neck, leaving languid kisses over his skin just how he liked.

“Excuse me, guys.” Quinn smiled politely, the gentlemen raised their glasses slightly and continued to chat amongst each other. The eldest Hughes strode, confidently, desperately, in y/n’s shadow, as if her perfume took him by the hand and led him right back to her at the bar. His hand smoothed over the small of her back, lips grazing her cheek until he mumbled in her ear, “What exactly are you playing at? Captain? Seriously?”

She turned her head to face him, noses bumping from how close he’d leant down to conceal his words. Cocking a brow, she smirked slightly, “What are you talking about, Captain? You saying you’re upset that I lured you away like this? Do you not like my company?”

“Darling, you know I’d rather ditch this joint and be with you. But keep that ‘Captain’ shit until we get home, you swore you’d behave.” His voice was gruff, and stern, as if he was almost scolding her, trying to tame the wildfire she could be yet the only effect it had was to fuel her, his attitude going straight to her pussy.

His eyebrows knitted, but he wasn’t truly angry. Tempted, heat rose up his neck and spread over his back, his suit becoming too warm to cope and he felt his cheeks fluster. Her honey-coated voice was relentless in her game of torment, their height difference perfect at that moment, the bar stool she sat on letting Quinn tower over her and it was so easy for him to grab her jaw and kiss her hard, the ecstatic tingles in his chest and stomach attempting to use him like a puppet and give in. He didn’t. He shoved his free hand into his pocket, steadying a firm gaze on her glimmering eyes.

“I thought you liked it when I used your title?” she rubbed her foot along his calf, eyes flickering down to his crotch and hooked her finger around his belt loop, ensuring her knuckle brushed against his semi-hard dick, “And you seem to be enjoying it right now.”

The straining was painful, throbbing, slacks doing him enough justice but the more she pressed her breasts together, the more his insatiable, selfish greed pinned him in a chokehold. He licked his lips, hand gliding from her lower back up her spine until his fingers took her by the chin, his thumb running across her lips and he tilted her head up. The way his gaze burned into her eyes unleashed a desire between them both, a mutual aching. Quinn would never admit such a secret out loud, but getting caught balls deep didn’t sound all that bad, the endless comments of being walked like y/n’s dog would turn into people knowing how much of a whore she was for him, how she begged for him to let her cum, to throw her around. Yet, she was too pretty for anyone else to see her how he gets to, her fucked out face with jaw hung open and eyes rolled back was for him and him only, something only he got to think about.

She rose from the stool, pushing the drink aside and smoothed her palms over his chest, feeling it fall deeply, like he was trying to keep his composure, with excitement bubbling in her stomach. Sliding her hands down his stomach slowly, fingertips leaving little tingles spurting through his body in their wake, her arms wound around his waist, their bodies meeting chest to chest. Quinn swallowed hard at the doe-like eyes she flashed, pressing into him with that enticing gaze that deemed him a sap, and got her whatever she wanted. His cock twitched when she wet her lips, only imagining how warm her mouth felt around him while on her knees, hair and makeup ruined by lewd choking of his cock pumping down her throat and he couldn’t take it.

“Stop it.” he grumbled, bringing her chin between his fingers and leaning down, placing a slow kiss on her lips, his free hand finding her hip exactly where the ‘Q’ sat as if waiting for him. Loud chatting dimmed and only their heartbeats thumped in their ears, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip before he pulled away, noses millimetres apart as his voice seemed to drop. “You’re killing me, the dress, the embroidery and the title, y/n I am struggling not to bend you over this bar and fuck you sore.”

She bit her lip, eyes flickering between his and his lips, clit throbbing with desire. “Too bad you’ll have to wait then; I think there’s a few donors here who want to talk with you-”

Y/n stepped back, arms leaving his waist and he craved their presence instantly, that empty, cold feeling returning and all he felt was a raging urge to throw her onto the bar. She turned and began to walk away, eyes locking with his but if there was one thing Quinn had learnt, it was that he needed to think less and do more, let his body move on its own and give in to his needs, no matter how filthy or desperate they were. He gripped her wrist, abruptly yanking her back into his chest, hands roaming along her waist, breath fanning in her ear, hot on her neck and for those few seconds, he didn’t care if people were watching him.

“-C’mon, pretty girl. Just quickly, in the bathroom, I’m dying here. You can tease me all you want, darling, but the second I ignore you; you’re begging for my cock like the little slut you are. So, you’re either gonna use your words and tell me what you want, or we can both stick around unsatisfied.” His words oozed with an enticing demand, a roughness that pooled heat into her underwear and goosebumps stood on end.

Turning her head slightly, enough for their eyes to meet, she smirked playfully, “I want you to come find me in the bathroom and show me just how insane I make you.”

He’d zoned out at her words for so long that she'd already disappeared into the bathrooms by the time he’d snapped back to the present, his tongue poking into his cheek and exhaling. He knew she had a chokehold on him, the moment he saw the dress, but he wasn’t the strongest soldier, clearly. And he certainly wasn’t right then and there because his feet took him away, power walking after her with a face of thunder - brows furrowed with a burning in his eyes, weaving through guests and shoving past Thatcher and Brock, who stifled laughter.

Y/n didn’t have to wait long before he came barging into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and pushing her against the sink, towering over so close she felt the heat radiate off his body. His hands landed on either side of her, encasing her without a word leaving her stomach to flip in excitement and lips to pull up.

“Is this what you wanted? To be fucked? Such a slut, aren’t you? Couldn’t wait until we got home.” He kissed the spot just under her ear, his voice raspy and low, the perfect spell of seduction he knew worked on her every time. Another kiss just below her jaw, long as if imprinting his presence onto her, reminding her of who she was riling up to kill time and exhausted from all the serious hockey talk she’d endured. She needed a boost, and maybe he did too.

Tilting her head to the side, she granted him more space, hand tangling in his hair, tainting the way it was perfectly styled for the event as his lips pressed warm and wet kisses down her neck. He hummed deliberately, vibrations sparking her sweet spots and electric sensations channelled through her nerves, arousal pooling into her underwear. She took her bottom lip between her teeth, pelvis rolling into his. Quinn wearing suits was one slice of heaven alone, and she knew how badly it played with her heartstrings, carnally. She knew that they wouldn’t last at the event, they never did, one way or another they would disappear off into a bathroom and one way or another they’d sneak out flushed with something skewed about them. He just had that brooding sexiness to him, and she fell for it every time.

Releasing a whispered mewl, she tugged his face away from her neck, “Your little slut, though, Q. I think you want to bend me over and fuck me with your organisation outside. I think you enjoy it. Don’t you enjoy seeing my pretty dresses, Captain?”

“C’mere, I’ll show you how they drive me fucking insane.” His lips collided with hers urgently, hands soothing up and down her back and the rhythm of tongues lapping fuelling the drive and desire in which their stomachs flipped with rousing tingles.

In one vigorous movement, Quinn’s palms gripped her hips and spun her around to face the mirror. He pulled her ass into his dick, one hand moving to lay flat between her shoulder blades and bending her over the counter. She gasped, hands slamming onto the marble and catching his glare in the reflection, that fiery glare boring into her while his stiff cock nudged into her, arousal blooming up her chest, but she craved nothing but him. For a moment she thought he’d kiss her, but he leant over her body, hands gliding up her sides and fingers hooking under the straps of her dress, lips grazing over her ear.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, sliding the straps over her shoulders, pulling them down so her breasts spilt out. She breathed in sharply when his palms cupped them, squeezing before taking her nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers, rolling them while watching her face contort in lewd mannerisms. Her jaw fell open, tilting her head back into his shoulder as he toyed and smirked, her clit throbbing and she pushed her ass back into him. “You’re gonna have to be quiet now, pretty girl. We don’t want someone hearing how well I take care of you.”

He released her right breast and slid his hand up to her throat, her skin smooth like silk and her perfume almost sedating him into a state of euphoria alone; she wore her most expensive, seducing fragrance, the vanilla and cedarwood of Yves Saint Laurant’s Black Opium. Wrapping his sturdy fingers around her throat, he pulled her back into his chest roughly, y/n yelping at the sudden action but with his left thumb still rolling over her nipple, the sexual stimulation embracing her coaxed her into enjoying it.

“You’re so pretty when you beg for me, you know that? How hot it is when you throw yourself at me? What it does to me?” he continued.

She turned her head to face him, only to catch his eyes boring into hers and whispered, “Show me, Captain.”

Without indication, Quinn captured her lips into an alluringly tenacious kiss, tongue darting into her mouth and silencing her squeaks in a passionate movement. She moaned, his hands gliding down the natural curves of her chest down to her waist, grabbing the fabric between his fingers and bunching the dress up to her waist, cock twitching in his slacks painfully.

He bent her back over the counter, one hand now gripping her hip while the other soothed over the globe of her ass, caressing in circles and nudging her legs further apart with his knee. He wet his lips, eyes taking in the view of her entirety. From the lacy panties to her breasts and finally, to her face, half-lidded eyes and lips where her lipstick was smeared. Quinn unbuckled his belt, gaze locking onto hers in the reflection and she watched his every movement, from his belt clinking open to his hand pulling his cock out. He gave himself two pumps before pulling her panties aside and running the tip through her folds, tipping his head back and exhaling at how he slipped in her arousal and relished the little whines she released.

“Stop teasing, Quinn.” She pushed herself back, encouraging him to fuck her already, sneaking her fingers to her clit and circling over the bundle of nerves. “Fuck me, Q, please. I need you so bad.”

“I know, darling. You’re soaked and all I did was kiss you.” He cooed, pushing inside her cunt slowly, watching her eyes flutter close and mouth waver open, body feeling light as ecstasy washed over her the deeper he slid in. “That’s it, pretty girl, rub your clit f’me, doesn’t that feel good?”

Y/n weakly nodded, whining when his cock bottomed out inside her, walls stretching around him and the raw nature of him being buried inside with every vein kissing her walls sending hot flushes up her back, sweat prickling. His thrusting started slow, sensual, deliberate. Hips rolling and watching his cock disappear in and out of her, y/n biting down on her lip to keep her high-pitched moans from echoing beyond the bathroom door. Quinn’s lips pulled upwards as his pace increased, his grip on her hips tightening with every harsh thrust.

He glanced in the reflection, trying to find a breathing pattern in which he could fuck her senseless without panting like a dog, only for his gaze to fixate on the state of his girlfriend in front of him. She was a Goddess of beauty, lips faltering open with sharp moans tumbling out her throat with every thrust into her, getting louder and more vulgar when he became rougher, slamming into her at a brutal pace. He could watch her squirm and whimper all day if he could. He released his hand from her hip, leaning over her body and taking her breast into his palm, fingers playing with her pebbled nipple.

“Sshh, you like that, hm?” his lips grazed the shell of her ear, beard tickling over her skin, plunging his cock into her mercilessly as her walls squeezed around him, wet skin slapping and bouncing off the walls as y/n’s breathy chanting of his name threatened to slip by the door to passing guests. Not that it irritated him, no, he adored hearing her lose her mind over him, hearing his name in her voice. What bothered him was everyone else hearing how she preached with wanton moans, they were noises only for him unless otherwise and in that moment, knowing his cock was hitting every angle with insatiable greed was for him only.

He pulled out abruptly, y/n turning her body awkwardly in surprise but whining at the loss of warmth, disappointed.

“Off,” his fingers hooked around the waistband of her panties, slipping down her legs and letting her step out of them. She watched him the best she could from her bent-over position, a whole new wave of excitement crashing over her with cold air brushing over her sopping folds and she continued her slow massaging on her clit. Quinn stood behind her again, hand gripping her jaw and stuffing her damp underwear into her mouth, “I said you had to be quiet, y/n. Come on, you’re doing so well for me.”

Lining himself back up, Quinn pushed in again, this time hard, pelvis meeting her backside instantly with how easily he slid in through the slick. He wrapped his hand around her waist, drawing the other back and giving her ass a firm slap before starting his thrusting again, no build-up, no adjusting, just desperate driving into her pussy, fuelled by the way her wanton moans muffled against her underwear. She dug her nails into the countertop, breasts jolting as he guided her along his cock with her eyes rolling back, the pit of her stomach twisting like a coil. His pace dissolved from desperate and rhythmic, controlled and deliberate to animalistic and sloppy, driven by the knot in his stomach tightening as he watched the way he buried himself inside her. Every thought in her head jumbled, her mind dizzying and it was like the heavens were calling her, feeling her legs become weak and wobbly in her heels, sweat trickling down her spine, or maybe it was Quinn’s dripping off his face, it didn’t matter. What mattered was trying to keep herself from collapsing in his hold.

“Oh, God, fuck-” she whined, yet muffled from the clothing in her mouth, the taste of her own arousal painting her tastebuds.

He hooked his hand around her thigh, hoisting it to rest on the counter and he sank into her cunt deeper, throwing his head back and groaning at his cock being clenched tighter, warmer, dragging his veins along her walls again and feeling nothing but pure bliss blossom into his stomach as he plunged with vigour, “Feel better now? Yeah, s’what I thought, so greedy.”

Y/n’s chest rumbled with a deep moan, her head dropping as her pussy pulsed, the knot in her stomach pulling tighter and tighter with every rut.

“You look all sweet and cute, but I know how much of a filthy fucking mind you have.” He groaned, husky and low, fixing his eyes back onto the reflection. His lips parted, in his world, all sounds muting, and he was just watching her face contort and hair fall over her eyes.

White noise encased her ears, eyes rolling back as her vision blurred and she sang an elongated moan, mouth falling open. Her legs trembled and she was sure the only reason she was still standing was because Quinn was holding her up while he fucked her. The pressure in the pit of her stomach became light, orgasm rippling through her and coating his dick in white, ring forming at his base and he grinned, his thrusting brutal and sloppy.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, letting his walls crumble and the knot he’d been holding tight snap completely, using her cunt to bring himself to his pleasure, releasing ropes of cum into her and watching it leak down her leg.

Panting, he leant over her, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek and nudging her mouth to part more, pulling her underwear out and dropping it onto the counter. They stood there, airy giggles between pants, the high winding down as he trailed kisses over her shoulders while pulling out, tucking himself back into his slacks.

“Fuck, Q, that was so hot.” She stood up straight, Quinn’s posture following her as she pulled the straps of her dress over her shoulders and re-adjusted her breasts. Fucked out and dishevelled was a new kind of sexy on him, paired with his smile, she resisted the urge to pounce on him all over again, turning to face him. “I take it you like the dress?”

“I love the woman wearing it more.” He said, voice deep and husky, tugging her dress down her hips. “Let’s go.”

She kissed his lips sweetly, just a peck while soothing her hands over his chest, “You go ahead, I need to pee and fix my makeup.”

Nodding, he fixed his hair and suit, straightening his jacket and tie. In the corner of the countertop, her underwear sat tangled up and his eyes glazed with mischief, that glint that came with a small smirk. He slid the garments into his pocket and took his leave, strolling out the hallway with a grin smeared across his - mildly flushed - face, soothing the lace fabric between his fingers. Thatcher leant against the wall just outside the hall, Brock stifling a laugh and nudging Thatcher’s elbow.

“What’cha got there, Huggy?” Thatcher asked, gesturing his head down to Quinn’s hand moving in his pocket.

Quinn swallowed with a dry throat, “Huh? Oh, uh, handkerchief…yeah.”

Giggling like schoolgirls, the two watched him powerwalk towards the bar. They looked at each other, raising their eyebrows as if reading each other’s mind. They’d been to many events with their Captain before and it sparked many bets between them, JT and Petey.

“Did you add it to the tally chart?” Thatcher took a sip of his drink.

Brock mirrored, eyes still watching Quinn order two drinks, “Did it as soon as he stormed past. Good ol’ Huggy Dog.”

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#≡qh43 #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fic #nhl smut #nhl x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction

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straightouttherosebush · 28 days ago

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𝙃𝙚𝙭𝙚𝙙 <3

Side note can we talk about how this version of Viktor and hexcore (rainbow) Viktor are the best versions of him? Did bro say Glorious Ovulation because holyyyyyyyyyyyy 0///0

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧: Viktor my beloved <3

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: Just general romantic/some NSFW headcanons for my favorite boy. You can picture these with whichever Viktor you want (I guess), but I feel S1 Viktor fits best.

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: NSFW themes (edging, eating out, praise kink on both sides if you squint, public sex fantasies), AFAB reader (mostly intended to be fem! reader but I'll be extra careful for my nonbinary/ftm friends)

𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

First off, I wholeheartedly believe in asexual/gay Viktor, and I am 100% a JayVik shipper, but a girl can also dream that he's bisexual with a male preference. It's a stretch, I know.

That's what we get for liking our men fruity.

Absolutely adores acts of service (his favorite), but physical touch (like the forehead touch that zaunites do, and other subtle movements) and verbal reassurance are things that make him feel appreciated.

Not huge on displaying his affections anywhere but in private. Nobody would even know that you guys are together and he likes it that way. He already has enough eyes on him, though they're mainly on Jayce.

Not big on names either, and idk if Czech exists in the LoL universe (as saddening as it is). He sticks with mentioning you as his "partner," though a "love" will sometime slip out when the two of you are alone.

"Can you please pass me those notes, my love?" "Do you need any help, love? You look... frustrated." "My cane is all the way across the room, can you please bring it to me, my love?"

You have to try your damnedest to either get into his lab to see him or to get him to turn in for the night. He reasons that this research is vital to his well-being, but so is rest. It usually doesn't work, so you at least bring him something to eat/drink.

I look at that man and think "pathetic twink," but with his attitude/personality, I can actually see him as more of a dominant figure in a romantic relationship. He is very sassy, he is assertive, and he is blunt. He doesn't look like he'd be like that, so it's a welcome surprise.

Generally a patient partner and is perfectly fine with slow-moving relationships. Actually, he prefers them. Not only does he enjoy the feeling of quiet, calm yearning, but he sees no reason for turbulence if one is trying to create a lifelong connection (which is what he generally looks for).

Viktor is all-around really thoughtful, and even when you don't think he's listening, he'll remember the events of your day with perfect accuracy and even the food you mentioned eating this morning. Even the way you phrase things, he has sharp memory and is very considerate and attentive.

𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

I headcanon that he is 100% a virgin

Switch, but top leaning. Let me explain.

Just as I said he was more dominant in romantic relationships, once he is comfortable with a partner, he also becomes more sexually dominant as well. This might take him a while but I SWEAR it's worth it.

Limited mobility hinders a lot of things he wishes he could do (he'd be more experimental if not for it). He sometimes psychs himself out and gets a little worried that he's leaving you unsatisfied.

His back specifically makes it hard for him to completely bend or move around, so he’s often either sitting or laying down. (Also suffers whenever he arches his back out of pleasure)

Please tell this man he’s perfect or even sufficient the way he is, compliment his waist/back, his thin face, his thin frame, anything he is insecure about. He secretly loves this, and he has an inferiority complex due to his many ailments and his social status (as he is still from Zaun.)

More of a giver than a receiver, he takes more pleasure in feeling your fingers in his hair while he overstimulates you with his tongue. Very skilled for someone who has NEVER done that stuff.

He is such a sweet dom, mostly ever lets out whimpers and small moans, as well as pure, sweet compliments, or the very rare tease. However, if you ever hear him curse under his breath, you know it's good.

Prettiest fucked-out expression EVER, eyes rolled back, head thrown back, back arching, the whole shabang.

Mainly has you riding him, his face, etc. One time he told you that you didn't need to hover and it was okay for a LITTLE but then he found it difficult. He still loves to have you fully seated while he works his magic.

Into edging and is really cheeky about it. He'll make the most smug expressions while eating you out or... rather, stopping before you finish. Part of him likes seeing you struggle, it's funny to him.

Absolutely communication driven, but gets a bit more confident as the relationship progresses. He doesn't want to overstep, and wants to know what you want/don't want, but will make use of that knowledge later.

Cannot be coerced out of work with sex. Thanks for trying. Maybe when he gets home, but he's usually either sleeps at the lab or is too sleepy at home. It is an unwelcome distraction and it genuinely frustrates him.

Speaking of the lab, he does feel really flustered and ashamed to admit that he has fantasies about you sitting on the desk and him going at it-- tongue, dick, all of it. It isn't a huge thing for him, but it pops into his head every once in a while.

11/10 aftercare, though you wish your already debilitated partner wouldn't try to rush around after he exerted himself so much. He rushes around to get you cleaned up, make you tea, all of it. He insists on doing things for you first.

I hope I fed the Viktor enjoyers, I love you guys and hope you're doing well after the events of S2. Stay strong Viktor nation, and as for Jayce...?

Jaybe.

This is my first Arcane headcanon post and definitely not my last. :D

Thanks for reading! Rosey <3

♡MASTERLIST HERE♡

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chibinasuu · 2 months ago

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Zoro x Reader ― by the fire; cuddling

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― @kyllium tags: sfw, pure fluff, established relationship, GN!reader, no use of y/n

Roronoa Zoro was not and had never been a cuddler.

…or so he claimed.

As you sat on a log by the bonfire, in a banquet after the Straw Hats successfully liberated yet another kingdom, Roronoa Zoro was clinging to you like his life depended on it.

Sanji was running around trying to find a cam-snail, hoping to capture the moment for future blackmail material. Robin was giggling quietly to herself, amused by the swordsman’s uncharacteristic behavior.

The green-haired man was too drunk to care.

He had (foolishly) challenged Jinbe to a drinking contest, which he had obviously lost, badly.

The fishman was chatting happily with the locals across the clearing, seemingly unbothered by the unholy amount of alcohol he had just consumed. Meanwhile, his opponent had entered a relaxed, half-drowsy state that he always found himself in whenever he drank more than he should, which admittedly, was not often.

You could only sit frozen in space, cheeks burning, trying to avoid Nami’s gaze as she teasingly made kissy faces at you. Your arms were tight on your sides, trapped by Zoro’s thick ones wrapped around your figure. His face was buried in your neck, and your breath hitched when you felt his lips brush once, twice, against the sensitive skin.

You were no stranger to Zoro's touches. He had his affectionate moments whenever the two of you were alone, but in public? The most he had ever done was hold your hand in front of the crew.

“Zoro,” You whispered, “People are watching.”

“Don’t care.” He mumbled as he nuzzled closer to you, “Let ‘em see how much I love you.”

You couldn’t stifle the smile that crept up your face, but Zoro was apparently not done talking yet.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He slurred as he pulled his head back to look at you, his smile as soft as you had ever seen it, “I’m so in love with you, it‘s making me dizzy.”

You decided that you liked drunk Zoro.

The man was not exactly vocal with his declarations of love, so it was always nice to hear him say it out loud once in a while.

You laughed and wriggled your arms out of his tight grip, using them to pull him even closer to you. You gave him a small kiss on the top of his head, “I love you too, Zoro, but that’s probably the alcohol making you dizzy.”

You know your beloved swordsman would probably be mortified by all of this tomorrow – if he could even remember anything – but for now, you gladly basked in his affection, despite being slightly embarrassed yourself.

You let him lean on you as he rested his bones – he deserved it after today's long battle. The crackling of the dying fire only added to his drowsiness, and you could see his eyelid fluttering, struggling to stay open.

You stroke his hair gently, playing with the spiky ends on his nape. Zoro sighed out your name, muttering a couple more I-love-yous into your ear for good measure. His hand on your waist subtly slipped under your top, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your bare skin.

As the flames slowly turned into embers, you were grateful for the darkness that hid your flushed skin and dilated pupils.

“Zoro, are you asleep?”

A soft grunt indicated that he was still awake, but barely.

“Do you want to go back to the ship? You should get into bed and get some proper sleep.”

He answered with a deeper grunt. You were fluent enough in Zoro’s grunts by now that you knew that meant ‘yes’.

After bidding good night to everyone who remained at the banquet, you half-led, half-dragged Zoro back to the Thousand Sunny, with your arm wrapped around his waist, and his arm slung around your shoulders.

You didn’t complain about his massive weight bearing down on you – not when he stopped every few steps to press tender kisses to your cheek.

a/n: this is practically a self-indulgent fic that feeds into my headcanon that zoro gets extremely affectionate whenever he was drunk

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ main event page || event masterlist ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

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#zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fluff #zoro fluff #roronoa zoro fluff #chibinasuu fics

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exuvianen · 9 months ago

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dating hc's with dr. ratio, aventurine + blade!

headcanons about what these hsr men do in a relationship witth you <3

cw: x reader, gn! reader (no physical descriptions), mostly fluff, sfw, headcanon style

notes: hsr brainrot… ahahaha... i hope i have a fairly good grasp on these characters and wrote them well.

wc: ~1050 words, around 350 words per character. all under the cut!

feel free to drop an ask or to add on to my thoughts! likes + rbs are appreciated <3

✎ Dr. Ratio:

He likes parallel play, or being alone together with you. He works on his own projects, like grading papers or writing a new thesis while you’re doing your own thing, like playing video games or reading. Occasionally, he might ask you for your input, such as ideas about his next thesis or what pose he should sculpt himself into next.

He has a spare desk and chair for you in his office. You can choose to do work or entertain yourself there when you visit him and he’s still teaching a lecture, but feel free to take a nap on the plush sofa he bought just for you.

He will nag you about your health but in an annoyingly endearing way. He fusses over you, telling you about appropriate attire for today’s weather, offering you an umbrella, and reminding you to drink water.

He entertains all your ideas, no matter how silly or illogical. He’ll hear you out on anything you say, though he might have some very strong disagreements or objections to your ideas, especially if they are silly or completely nonsensical. However, he never turns you away when you bound up to him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes - he just sighs and prepares himself mentally to hear whatever goofiness comes out of your mouth.

He’s your biggest cheerleader, supporter, and advocate. Though he may come off as intimidating, he is always willing to help advance your career or work. He has many connections and vast knowledge of the universe after all - why not utilize them for his beloved?

He’s very good at dispelling any irrational thoughts in your head. If you’re panicking and your mind is disoriented, he’ll sit next to you and hold your hand gently, but firmly to ground you. He doesn’t speak at all when you vent out all your frustration, confusion, or anger - rather, he’s silently contemplative and then asks questions when you finish talking. He’ll indirectly guide you to a solution while gently calming you down as he dispels those pesky thoughts from your head.

He makes a custom alabaster head for you.

♤ Aventurine:

A big fan of matching accessories and clothing. You don’t need to wear the exact same outfit, but he likes wearing complementary colors and jewelry to yours.

If you’d like, he’d be more than happy to bring you to casinos and public events with him. He wants to show off to you and let you witness his wit, talent, and skill like a peacock presenting its colorful feathers.

He likes it a lot when you trace his skin through the spade-shaped hole in his outfit.

He hates the feeling of being vulnerable, but he likes being around you. This creates conflicting emotions inside of him. Oftentimes, he doesn’t know how to deal with it and just lurks by you. Pull him into a hug to quiet the voices in his head.

He will send you packages or luxury items from the planets he’s visiting. You’ll be greeting a disgruntled Topaz or IPC soldiers at your door as they hand you various gifts ranging from limited-edition jewelry to flowers that bloom only once every 200 amber eras. He gifts extremely grand things, but he always knows how to find things that suit your tastes.

He’s a big spender on you. If you’re unused to the amount of money he’s willing to throw at you, he’s going to give you a lot of “exposure therapy” with his generosity. He’ll invite you to private auctions, lavish galas, luxury boutiques, and high-end jewelry stores. He’ll start filling your wardrobe with tailor-made clothes with the excuse that you should match his outfits when you attend formal events together, but his clothing contributions eventually infiltrate your closet pretty deeply.

He enjoys being pampered and pampering you. Self-care nights are a must - as a representative of the IPC and one of the ten Stonehearts, he has to keep himself presentable and looking sharp, and that goes for his partner too! He’s more than happy to spend money to fund your trips to the salon or buy you any beauty products to use at home. He’d love to put on face masks together and share a drink or two with you.

☠︎︎ Blade:

If you want to, and Elio’s script permits, he will bring you along on missions to safer planets. He’ll drop you off at a commercial district - feel free to go shopping or try out some novelty food while he wraps up his Stellaron Hunter business.

He likes getting his hair brushed. One of his favorite activities is sitting down and letting you comb through his hair after he cleans up from a mission. It’s an activity that leaves him vulnerable, but he doesn’t mind if it’s with you.

He’s an acts of service kind of guy. He moves to take your bags before you even say anything, holds open doors, and pulls out chairs for you. Brings you a cup of water and some fruit when you’ve been working for too long, and silently drapes his jacket over you when you shiver.

Tell him you like a certain pastry and he’ll show up every day and bring some. Show him a picture of a pretty flower and he’s boarding a spaceship to bring the flower to you personally. If you want something, he’ll do his best to get it.

He’s pretty quiet, but he’ll remember everything you say, what your preferences are, and what you like. He secretly writes it down in case his memory gets murky, and he’ll often reread his notes to remind himself.

He gives simple but traditional gifts to you, such as jade bracelets and pendants, and combs and hairpins if you have longer hair to wear or use them.*

He’ll treasure anything you gift to him. If you make an accessory for him, he wears it at all times. If your gift is small enough, he’ll stow it safely in his pockets and take it everywhere with him.

If family is important to you, he’ll send funds their way and ensure that they’re taken care of.

As someone who’s often dead and then undead, his body can get stiff. He’ll enjoy it immensely if you massage him, and accompany him for his daily stretches and calisthenics. Even if you just hold him for a while, he finds that his muscles will relax from the warmth emitting from your body. Therefore, he quite appreciates having you physically near him.

* Combs, hairpins, Jade bracelets, and pendants were given as tokens of love and affection in Ancient China. These gifts have a deeper meaning/symbolism, but for the sake of post length, I did not write them all out.

#exuvia works #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #dr.ratio x reader #hsr headcanons #blade x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #hsr blade #hsr aventurine #hsr dr.ratio #ratio x reader #veritas x reader #veritas ratio x reader

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fanaticsnail · 4 months ago

Text

Pet Play: Bartolomeo

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 3,500

Themes: Bartolomeo x f!reader, Straw-Hat reader, mdni, 18+, smut, nsfw, Dom!reader, pet!Barto, praise kink, oral, gendered terms and endearments used.

Notes: first time writing for Barto, and I adore him. Day 5 of my birthday event!

It had been eight agonizing days of traveling with your crew alongside the Barto fanclub. Whichever way you turned, there was another picture of your face thrust into your body, with teary eyes and pens offered for you to sign the image held within by your fans. You appreciated their assistance, and did enjoy the fact that your captain gathered himself a following of devoted individuals, but it had began to overwhelm you.

As a Straw-Hat, you were a deity to be worshiped upon the pedestal held by the crew and captain of the Going Luffy. It was initially quite confronting, which then dove into overwhelming, and now simply infuriating. Their blatant disregard for your personal space had managed to make your skin crawl, and your lack of privacy had you so pent up you could burst in a rage at any moment.

The Thousand Sunny had little to no privacy as it was. Even living with a small crew of a few individuals made it difficult to find time to yourself to rejuvenate your energy - let alone now sharing the same air as those who couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone for more than was required to allow for your sleep.

What made it worse was the green-haired captain’s eyes. Those dark eyes upon his war-painted face would always find yours and beam up at you as if you were the most important thing in the world to him.

Captain Bartolomeo the Cannibal's were the eyes you would see each time you lay down to rest. Those eyes that looked up with child-like wonder as he expressed how much he adored you and his beloved Luffy. Those eyes you felt singe your back with their intensity each time you faced away, only to snap hastily anywhere else as soon as you caught him out.

It was too much.

A small call of your name broke you out of your seething, prompting you to turn to your two companions either side of you.

“Something the matter, dear?” Robin asked softly, checking you over with her knowing expression, “Have they been giving you a hard time?” She leaned back on her lounge chair to reach for her drink Sanji dutifully prepared for her.

“To be honest with you,” you confessed, piquing the interest of your copper-haired companion beside you, “This is the first moment I've had with just you guys since they came aboard.”

“Oh, I know,” Nami hummed thoughtfully as you spoke, darting her eyes towards the crowd and back to you once more, “Everywhere I go, it's just ‘Beautiful Miss Nami,’ or ‘Most Honorable Nami,’ or I think I got ‘Powerful Nami,’ at one stage - which I actually quite liked.”

Both you and Robin chuckled at her admission, garnering the attention of Bartolomeo as soon as he heard it.

To him, hearing the Straw-Hat women smile and laugh alongside him was the greatest symphony he'd ever witnessed. He felt compelled to tell you all as such, which prompted him to immediately rise to his feet and head up to the top deck towards the three of you.

“See, those names are beautiful, Nami,” you complimented her, which earned you a smile from her in response, “All I got was ‘Miss’. But yes, it's been really hard getting a moment's peace-.”

“-All of the beautiful Straw-Hat women in one spot, all lounging together like goddesses amongst us mere mortals,” Bartolomeo exclaimed with a wonder to his tone.

You groaned, hanging your head on your shoulder and pouting towards Robin. She chuckled and pursed her lips, giving a polite acknowledgement to Bartolomeo as he continued to sing praises of her ferocity and beauty.

He then focussed on Nami and spoke on her weather techniques and how much joy seeing her lightning gave him. His knack for storytelling and overemphasis on the words had you rolling your eyes and attempting to ignore him, but it was no use.

Each time you opened your mouth to speak to Robin, Bartolomeo’s growling voice barked out a whimsical wonderment towards Nami. Just as he began another tirade of how truly in awe he was to her polearm fighting techniques, you couldn't take it anymore and snapped at him.

“Down boy! Sit! Fuck, do I need to leash this guy?” you growled at him, causing him to immediately slink away from the three of you with his jaw slack. Before you had an opportunity to rephrase your wording, he plonked himself down on the floor, crossing one leg over the other and nodding at you in a frantic bob.

“You can leash me,” he whispered breathily, nodding once more with his eyes wide and wanting. “If it would make an angel more beautiful than anything my mind could conjure up in my dreams happy, I would do it-.”

“-Oh, stop with the praise, damn it,” you dismiss him, “Or I'll be forced to muzzle you too.” Nami sucked her bottom lip into her mouth to stifle her laugh while Robin drew her straw up to her lips and drank a small mouthful of the liquid.

Bartolomeo’s eyes rolled in his skull, his whine caught in his throat at the picture you gave him.

Of all of the Straw Hats, aside from Luffy, you were his favorite. He was always too nervous to approach you while either you or he was alone, simply because he felt as if he couldn't control what he would say to you. What was he to do, admit he had been in love with you the moment he captured your news clipping in his hands? Surely not.

“You don't need to muzzle me,” Bartolomeo confirmed with you softly, “I know how to behave. I can be a good boy for you.”

“Oh yeah?” you taunt him, leaning forward and challenging him with your glare, “You gonna be my good boy?”

Nami turned her head, her eyes wide while containing a squeal at the interaction between yourself and Bartolomeo. Robin’s smile grew in a large grin, her teeth now exposed and giving her an unhinged aura about her.

“I'll be anything you want me to. I can be your good boy,” Bartolomeo confessed breathily, your glare shooting sparks straight down to his cock and causing it to twitch against the seam in his pants. You reached forward, collecting his smooth chin in your fingers and smiling suggestively at him.

“Anything I want you to be?” you nod, looking down your nose at him and nodding suggestively. He mirrored your nod with his brows peaking at the center of his forehead. “Do you think you could start with being quiet? Then followed by you and your crew leaving us alone for at least two hours more than our sleep schedule every damn day?”

Nami burst out laughing, no longer able to contain her teeters. Robin’s soft chuckle joined hers, but your challenge never moved from your face.

Bartolomeo felt all of the air swell in his lungs at once, his breath snatched from him while being held beneath your stare. He let out a soft whimper, causing you to almost feel bad for him before he collected your right hand within both of his and tugged it tenderly away from his chin.

“If that's what you want, mistress,” he whispered, softly leaning down and pressing his forehead to your knuckles, “Then I'll keep myself and my crew away from you all when you need your space. I can be quiet. I promise.” He raised his head up and once again and beamed emotionally up at you, “I didn't mean to offend you with how much I like you all. I'll be quiet. I can do it, mistress.”

Your lips parted as he stood, releasing your hand from his grip and bowing low to you once reaching full stature.

“I'm sorry, ladies,” he nodded, raising his head to meet your eyes and depict his honesty, “I'll be whatever you need me to be. If you need me to be quiet, then I'll be quiet. I'll keep them all quiet. Again, I'm sorry.”

He backed away, causing your eyes to maintain their contact against his as he did so. Robin slowly held her eyes on yours and smirked as she noticed the slight hitch in your breath and fluster on your cheeks.

“Well, that was certainly something,” she chuckled contemplatively. “How did it make you feel?”

“A big ol', green-haired, sharp-toothed puppy dog following your orders,” Nami cooed beside you, causing heat to continue rising in your face and tips of your ears, “Did you see the way he looked at you? So devoted and needy.” Both women teased you with a soft coo, causing you to growl and hide your face in your hands.

“Fuck…” you whispered softly, raising your fingers to pinch at the bridge of your nose, “Something about the visual of him in a collar, leash, and muzzle did something. Damn it.”

“Hey, we don't Kink-Shame on the Thousand Sunny,” Nami pointed out, Robin nodding with a soft hum beside you in confirmation, “You wanna leash him, I'm pretty sure Sanji or Zoro might have something you can use. Or maybe Franky could make something for you-.”

“-You’re making it worse,” you growl at her. Her laugh once again rang melodiously through the top deck and down to the joint crew now being reprimanded by Bartolomeo.

“Don't you want him to be your ‘good boy’?” Robin probed you, “Have him sit by your heals and do little tricks to earn a reward?”

“Robin, damn it-!” you again groaned at her, “Not. Helping.”

“Would it help if we watched the door for you?” she shrugged nonchalantly, “Have you and Bartolomeo in a room together for you to invoke some discipline on the needy pup?” You turn and glare at her, causing her to place down her drink to raise her hands in submission.

“This was not meant with disrespect, love. I mean it,” she nodded at you, turning to Nami and nodding at her too, “We've all been pent up for a while, and you and the captain have chemistry together. Your auras align, and I'm sure he would want to continue exploring that with you.”

“Oh yeah? And what am I going to do?” you flail dramatically. Gesturing down to the bottom deck where Bartolomeo was gazing at you like a devotee up at his idol, you continued, “Go and say: ‘Alright pup, come and show me what a good boy you can be and follow some orders in my quarters’? Be real, Robin.”

“That's precisely what I'm saying,” she nodded at you, gesturing down to the base of the Thousand Sunny and shooing you with a soft flail of her hands, “Now off you go. Get your good boy.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, immediately feeling compelled to rise to your feet and leaving their company, “You're both so mean to me. I hope you're happy.”

“Not as happy as you're about to be-,” Nami snickered, only to be silenced by a scowl you sent towards her.

“I’m going to my quarters,” you growl at them both before taking a few steps towards the deck and peering down, “Let me have my fun.” Pursing your lips, you exhale a soft whistle to gather the attention of the cannibal on the surface below you. Clicking your tongue at him, you caught his eye and bobbed your head towards the hallway beneath the ship.

“That was always the plan, love,” Robin smiled at you. “We’ll make sure nobody bothers you until you're needed, which won't be for a while, will it, Nami?”

“Nope. Weather is perfect, and land isn't in sight for about four hours or so,” she nodded at you, “Go get that big puppy to learn some tricks. He looks like he'd be an animal in bed, and with a title like ‘cannibal’, you just know he eats well.”

With another exasperated sigh, you fled to the bottom deck towards the corridor where Bartolomeo was waiting for you. He was antsy, rocking on the balls and heels of his feet while avoiding your eye contact. Gently reaching towards the larger man, you flick at his chin to raise his eye line to your face.

“Does the offer still stand about being a good boy for me?” you tilt your head and dart your eyes between his. You hoped the tension you felt earlier was not unrequited, your pussy already beginning to gather a wave of arousal at your slit.

“Anything you want me to be,” he confirmed in a repetition of his earlier sentiment, biting his lip and gazing innocently up through his eyelashes at you. “Let me be your little pet. Collar me, leash me. I'm yours.”

A soft whine caught itself in your nasal, guts clenching in thick knots at his admission. Reaching forward, you take him by the hand and begin leading him towards your room.

Opening the door, he has a moment to take in the most hidden and intimate look at his second favorite Straw-Hat after Luffy.

The scent, the colors, the presence: the you. Everything was you, and he needed to commit each crevasse to memory in case you asked him to leave. While he was distracted, you reached below your bed and found your hidden lingerie collection and chose the items you thought he might enjoy.

While you would prefer to collar and leash him properly, give him a pretty name tag with your name on the inside of the material, you made do with an intricate slipknot to lovingly place over his neck made from a garter and a small length of rope used for bondage as a makeshift leash. Stripping yourself hastily from your clothes, exposed and completely bare, you finally turned and sat down at your desk and hooked one knee over the other.

He took another look at your bed before he finally turned away to view what you were doing with the rope. Turning towards you, his eyes grew so wide he felt they might flee from their sockets and roll onto the wooden floorboards.

“Well, don't just stand there gawking,” you rolled your eyes and revealed the little collar and leash, “Come here and let me put this on you.”

“Hhhgnm-...” Bartolomeo whined for you, dropping to his knees and wriggling along the floor while humbling himself before you. Once at your ankles, you leaned forward, giving him an eyeful of your exposed breasts and pebbled nipples as you drew the garter over his neck. Tugging on the leash, he played along to your motion and fell into your shin.

“Gonna be a good puppy and get a treat?” you tilted your head, gently parting your thighs and removing your knee from its place laced with your other, “Show me how much of a good listener you are?”

Bartolomeo felt as if he had ascended to another plane. A Straw Hat was giving him a behind the scenes tour of their quarters, and inviting him to be blessed with the opportunity of making them cum. He felt like his heart could explode, his panting breath picking up in intensity as he almost hyperventilated in glee.

“Barto…?” you softly checked in with him, “Is this too much? Would you like me to tone it do- OH FUCK-!!”

Barely giving you a moment to expel the words of concern, Bartolomeo surged forward and began nuzzling and whining against your cunt. His lips were pursed as he kissed every inch of skin greedily, tongue darting out to flicker at your crotch and taste your skin.

“Barto, w-wait-!” you attempted to reign him in, tugging the stretchy collar and trying to pry him away from your exposed area. In lieu of pulling him back, your grip on the collar only made him want to try harder to lick and suck your skin. Just as you pulled once more to pry him away, Bartolomeo managed to flick his tongue over your clit which had you cry out for him.

“Oh, fuck-!” you hissed down at him, “Barto, please make me cum?” You hooked your thighs over his shoulders, trapping his head between your thighs and angling his larger head to get a better angle on your entire pussy.

With one hand on the leash, you drew down your other and gripped his green hair while bucking up into his face.

“More on my clit please, pup,” you directed him, grinding your pussy against his eager smile. He immediately drew his lips up and circled your clit with a soft purse. Messily sucking on your clit, he parted his lips and kept the top lip rubbing the small bud while his tongue flicked and slithered against your slit.

“Mmm-! Fuck, good pup,” you whined, contorting your face in a pleasured scrunch and grinding into his lips. “Good listening. K-Keep going.”

Bartolomeo’s eyes never left your face, mapping and committing each motion to memory and whining into your pussy. His cock felt painfully hard beneath his pants. Already dampening the crotch of his patterned material, precum leaked from his small slit at the top of his cock at each small utterance of praise.

“There you go, good pup,” you keened for him. Your pussy was so wet, and with the additional combination of Bartolomeo's enthusiasm, you felt your ecstasy building rather quickly. It had been so long since you had a moment alone to think for yourself, let alone touch yourself, and it was beginning to show with how needily you groaned and whined for Bartolomeo.

“Mm, keep going. S-So close, puppy,” you praised him. Your grip grew firmer on the leash, fistfuls of green hair now burning at each follicle in a way that had Barto rocking and humping his pants while consuming you vigorously. He loved each moment, and he knew he was going to cum untouched as soon as you exploded over his face.

“Oh, baby, you're gonna make me cum,” you whine, feeling neediness continuing to take over your motions. He hummed desperately into your pussy, hoping you like the vibration he adds to your experience. He lulled his tongue out lazily, and bobbed his head messily up and down, while paying attention to your clit and slit.

You could ask Bartolomeo to do anything, and he would do it no questions asked. He would fuck your asshole with his tongue if that's what you wanted, have you sit on his face and ride him if you preferred it. All that mattered to him was making you cum. He needed to make you cum like the way his body needed water.

“Mmmfphmmm-!!” Barto babbled enthusiastically into your pussy, swiping his tongue against you with a ‘plap, plap, plap’. While the language was incoherent, the message was the same.

‘Cum for me.’

The pit in your stomach tightened to a point you felt it could snap, prompting your pitch and praise to get both higher in frequency and pitch.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck-! Barto, you're gonna make me c-cum-!! Oh, fuck. I'm cumming-!” You messily rode his face, holding onto the leash of your green-haired puppy while screaming for him. The world shattered like glass, your ecstasy cresting from your chest and swelling your bloodstream with pure bliss. Clear cum drooled out from your slit, Bartolomeo eagerly lapping it up while you chased your high.

As soon as you cried his name and warned him, he couldn't help it. Hot bursts of untouched release painted the insides of his pants and briefs as he muffled what sounded like your name into your pussy. Bucking wildly while sucking on your clit, he rode through his untouched high with his tip squished against his tight pants.

Coming back down from the crashing waves of bliss, you released the leash and his hair, peering down at him with a lazy glow illuminated in your skin.

“Good puppy,” you giggled at him, causing him to groan lovingly at the praise, “Lap it up, baby. Gotta get all cleaned up before I take that pretty cock you're hiding from me beneath those pants.”

Where Bartolomeo would usually say: “I don't think I can cum so soon, I just creamed my pants at the thought of you cumming in my face,” these were not usual circumstances. He was with his second favorite Straw-Hat, and he was not going to disappoint you.

However long you were willing to spend with him was a blessing from the gods, and he would be held at your mercy until you were ready to tell him to stop. You were a goddess to him, and he was a zealot to your altar.

“Good puppy,” you praised him, scrunching up your nose and cooing down at him. “Now get on the bed. Behave for me.”

“Yes mistress,” he whined at you, giving you needy kisses to the thighs and aiding you into his arms to bring you to the bed, “I'll keep being your good puppy for you. I can listen.”

You couldn't help the small whine that fled your throat, truly relishing in his complete and total submission to you. You then caught yourself wondering how much you could get away with by calling him your good boy. Would he let you peg him? Would he let you tie him down? Would he let you ride his face? Would he let you bite him? Would he let himself bite you with his sharp teeth if you asked him to?

All of those questions would find their answer over the next three hours of senseless and animalistic ravaging taking place on your mattress, followed by such sweet tenderness you had never known prior.

He was so sweet to you, and you praised your good puppy until you both fell asleep in the arms of one another.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel

🎶"Happy Birthday to Me"🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

#one piece #x reader #2024 birthday event #bartolomeo #bartolomeo x reader #x f!reader #barto x reader #one piece smut #op barto #op bartolomeo #one piece x reader #bartolomeo smut

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vrystalius · 3 months ago

Text

Cuddle bug? Cuddle bear.

Gyomei thought he’d prefer holding you in his arms, but it seems like it’s the opposite.

Pairing: Gyomei x gn!reader

Gyomei always leaves right before you go to bed. You invite him to stay and offer to let him sleep together with you in bed, but he always declines. You two have been dating for almost 3 years and the stone hashira continued to visit you almost every day now, it wouldn’t be weird to ask him to cuddle with you through the night, right? At first you thought that was the reason he didn’t want to stay the night. The second reason you thought he might not want to stay is that Gyomei fears that you want to sleep with him. You’re not 100% sure how he feels about that topic, but since he’s a religious monk, you’d think he’d rather not do it with you. You decided to ask him himself on why he didn’t want to stay the night…

“I’m afraid I might be too large for your bed. Too tall and heavy, beloved.”

Oh. Oh! You almost wanted to giggle a little. You thought it might’ve been because of you or whatever else reason, but that should’t be a problem. Tears were running down his face while you explained to him that your bed frame is incredibly sturdy and your bed itself large enough to host both of you. It didn’t take much to convince him to finally share the bed with you for the first time. Gyomei removed his yukata and unbuttoned his uniform, but keeping his pants on for comfort purposes. He was hesitant putting all his weight down onto your bed at first, but carefully came closer and closer to your body. A smile started spreading on your face as his muscular arms slowly wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer carefully.

“May I…?”

His voice was hushed and even deeper. You could feel the rumbles in his chest while he was talking. You hummed in approval to his question. That cue made Gyomei pull you right up against his warm body, making you nuzzle your face against his chest. You sighed contently and wrapped your arms around his chest, your hand lazily traced his back muscles. He sighed deeply and buried his head in your neck. You slowly shifted positions, your collarbone and chest against him while your legs wrap around his waist. Your hand moved from his muscles up to the back of his head, running your fingers through his short hair. Gyomei closed his eyes. You felt his whole body relax against you, him now being nothing but an oversized teddy bear. You grinned and leaned down, softly pressing your lips against his forehead. Silent tears ran down his face, but not in sorrow. A soft smile grazed his face as his arms wrapped around you tighter.

“I regret not accepting your offer before. I apologise, my beloved.”

“I’m glad you did now, ‘mei.”

You cupped his cheek and tilted his face, your lips finally meeting his. Gyomei hummed approvingly, his palms kneading your soft skin beneath them. The smile on his face grew after pulling away from you. He nuzzled his face back into your neck and placed featherlight kisses there before closing his eyes. Your fingers continued to work their way through his hair while he let himself get pampered by you.

Gyomei is only completely at peace when in your arms, he notes.

🎃

Fictober prompt: “Let’s try this”

I’m sorry if this was too short, but I hoped you enjoyed it anyway! @los-huesitos asked me to tag them in future Gyomei works I post but for some reason the tag isn’t working. I hope you see this anyway!! I noticed how… sad.. my masterlist for Gyomei is, so I wanted to write a little something for him today.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough <3

Take care of yourselves!

Here’s my event masterlist 🎃

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sheyfu · 8 months ago

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"𝐦𝐢 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐚, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞"

》 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗁𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝖾 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (all characters featured are aged up!!)

》 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗒, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍?

》 𝖼𝗐: 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀; 𝗌𝖺𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖺 𝗐𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇 (𝖾𝗋𝗆); 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖽-𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎; 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗆; 𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗂𝗄𝗎; 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌; 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗉𝗁𝗋𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗌; 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗎𝗂𝗅𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂-𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀; 𝗈𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺 𝖾𝗂𝗍𝖺; 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂’𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 :(; 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽; 𝗌𝖺𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗈𝖼 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗍𝗏; 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽; 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 (𝗌𝖺𝖽) 😓😓

》 𝗐𝖼: 1064 (longest piece of dookie i've written)

you were currently with itoshi sae attending, in his words, “a stupid clout chasing event for influencers to leech on footballers”, listening to shidou ryusei ramble about how he and otoya eita randomly bumped into beyoncé in the shibuya train station, when you suddenly felt the need to go to the lavatory. just when he was getting to the good part. silently excusing yourself, you let go of sae’s hand as you made a beeline towards the venue’s bathroom.

meanwhile outside, while shidou was telling the group about how beyoncé called him a sweetheart after getting his shirt signed, a young woman approaches the football stars’ table and sits down beside sae, interrupting whatever the loudmouth was going to say next. the whole group looks at her with question marks above their heads as she makes herself comfortable beside the prodigy.

excuse me but, who are you? isagi yoichi was the first to speak up, eyeing the woman with a raised eyebrow. “oh! my bad! forgot to introduce myself, whoopsies!” she said with a laugh so annoying, sae almost physically winced. “i’m kento mirai! but you can call me mai for short!! i’m currently modeling for abibas!! oh also! i’ve worked with sae before, you could say we have a lot of chemistry together, right sae darling?” her high-pitched voice rings in sae’s ears as he tries not to roll his eyes at the woman.

it’s not a lie though. but it’s not exactly true. yes, they’ve worked together for the brand but the chemistry she was talking about was simply a tale—they had no chemistry at all. everyday at the scene, she was always either beside sae or looking for sae, and even forcing herself into his personal space. it had gotten so bad to the point that sae was very tempted to call the project manager and drop it. but of course, his manager talked his ear off saying if he did decide to call mister PM, he’d reduce the player’s consumption of his beloved ichibo steak to only once a month—what a jerk.

anyways.

his trance is cut off by the thing beside him, talking her ear off. my head hurts. sae grimaces as he looks around the venue to look for you, spotting you by the bar ordering some drinks from him and you. perfect. just at the right time, mi amor.

he stands up but just as he was about to go to you, a harsh grip on his wrist is enough to tear his eyes away from you. he looks down to his captor’s hand with a raised eyebrow. “what do you want, woman?” he jerks his arm away from her yet she doesn’t let go. he looks again at your direction and he sees that you’re gone. he panics. yet for some reason, he can’t get away from this woman’s grip. “saeeee.” she whines. “don’t leave yet! I’m not yet done talking to you!”

now. sae isn’t a fan of hurting women—he’s a fan of women! they’re really amazing, yeah. but at this moment, he suddenly wants to abandon all his feminism and push her off a cliff. tch.

“hey man, d’ya think we should ya know, ask her to leave?” sae hears chigiri hyoma’s worried voice whisper to oliver aiku. please do. sae inwardly pleads to the gods above as he side eyes the pair. “nah, ‘s getting ‘ntresting.” aiku slurs, clearly under the influence. damn fuckin' traitor. sae feels a harsh tug on his arm, almost dragging him down to the couch. what a strong woman. she whines again. fine. if you want to do it the hard way, then i’ll give you hell. sae thinks.

“let me go, please.” he cringes at his use of words. “i have a wife to look for and if you don’t let go of me now i’ll have to call the security.” he says, hoping for her to get the hint.

she does.

but just not in the way sae hoped.

“your wife? oh! that y/n l/n? oh please! i don’t even know what you see in her! i mean, she’s nothing but a lowlife! clearly using you for money! i’d be so much better for you, my sae.” erm. okay. what the hell. sae’s hella conflicted now. he doesn’t know if he wants to take the risk and run away from her or beat the living shit out of her.

he feels her body hug him from the back and before sae knew it, he pushed her away and let out everything he wanted to say to her.

“listen here, woman. my wife is the kindest and purest soul there is on earth. she brings heaven to me and lights up whatever emo shit is inside me. everything she says and everything does makes me all giddy and shit. and unlike you, her and i actually have chemistry. so i suggest you get the fuck out of my sight before i call security to feed you to the tigers or something. also, she's the only one who can make me giggle and kick my feet up in the air. fuck you.”

okay, maybe that was too much. but at least he defended your honor. common sae w. he thinks as he turns around to search for you, only to find you in front of him with the dopey smile he’s loved for eternity. he hears the cheers and snickers of the table, and even someone saying “oooh he popped off” (probably bachira meguru), yet the only thing he really cares about is you.

“so, my dear husband.” you say with a smirk on your face. “i light up the emo shit inside you”, huh? how romantic.” sae flushes and grabs his drink from your hand, chugging it and putting the glass on the table.

shut up. it's cuz you took too long in the washroom. did 'ya take a shit or somethin'? he says as he drags you to the exit of the venue. you hurriedly chug your drink and say your goodbyes to the rambunctious group of boys.

and as you enter the car, sae’s next words surprise you,

“i won’t lie though, i kinda ate that shit up a while ago. maybe we should attend more of these events. what d’ya say, mi vida?”

what a goofball of a husband you have.

HELLOOOO i hope this was enjoyable for everyone ahu ahu 😓😓 unfortunately this is NOT a banger and my experiment of adding my goof into a piece failed erm 😓😓 still, thank you for reading!! hopefully, i'll post more bangers once i get out of my silly sad mood ahu ahu 😓😓 as always, reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated!!

#🐈‍⬛️.scorebook #⚽️.blue lock #🥅.itoshi sae #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bllk fluff #bllk angst #blue lock fluff #blue lock angst #blue lock sae

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ryescapades · 3 days ago

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→ EVENT OVERVIEW

prompt: 1 - “are you asking me out?” characters: hoshina soshiro (kn8) x gn!reader contents: fluff, established rs, officer!reader (not specified which dep.), dunno if i should tag this too but reader drinks coffee lol wc ~ 1k (no beta !!)

a/n: @purpleqilinwrites hewwoo kaija my beloved tysm for participating !! my apologies for taking so long to get to your orders but i hope they are to your liking (lmk if there's anything you'd like me to change!) <3 andd here’s your slice two !

piles of rubble and cracked buildings surround him, the kaiju corpses littered around now huddled by a throng of workers from the monster sweeper inc. hoshina barely spares a glance over the dead monsters as he flicks both of his swords in a quick swipe in the air, splashes of blood splattering onto the concrete below as he cleans his blades as efficiently as he could.

grabbing his coat from the vehicle he’d taken to get to his post, he takes a peek over his shoulder when a series of faint footsteps approaches from behind. “vice-captain hoshina! i’m here to report–” kafka starts, but hoshina brushes him off with a wave of his hand. “direct all reports to any of your platoon leaders. i have somewhere else to be.”

with no further clarification, hoshina immediately sets off, leaving behind a jaw-slacked kafka and a confused reno tottering behind him. they throw a simultaneous glance at each other, wordlessly questioning each other about their superior’s behavior.

“and there he goes,” nakanoshima’s voice catches their attention. when she’s asked for the reason, all kafka and reno received is a shrug of her shoulders and a muse of “he’s a man in love. what else do you expect?” as if it’s an explanation enough.

and hoshina is, indeed, a man in love and a man on a mission. one that doesn’t include taking out dangerous beasts, but instead facing all his exhaustion head on just so he could go to you. combat suit still in operation, he makes good use of its power to hop over the buildings to the next, heading straight to that quaint little place he knew where you’d be.

the corner of his lips quirk up when he remembers the text you’d sent him prior to the mission. ‘heard your mission is in xx city. if things go haywire, i’ll be nearby to clock in asap just lmk :)’. always ready to help even when you’re off duty; one of the many things hoshina loved about you. he amusedly shakes his head at the thought.

as the mission retains minimal damage, the surrounding towns are thankfully unaffected by the destruction. the smooth cobblestone path thuds softly underneath his feet when hoshina lands in the alley, glad that your location isn’t that far from his. he pulls on the coat over his form, shoulders flexing from the movement as he rounds the corner.

even from the outside of the shop, he could already smell the roasted beans and sweet pastries. hoshina inhales deep, taking in the delightful scent before he cranes his head here and there, eyes roving over the bustling crowd until his amaranthine hues finally settle on what he’d been searching for.

and much like a heartfelt homecoming, a wholesome reunion, or like how the sand meets the shore, how the sun touches the horizon, how the morning light kisses the sheer curtains, how the coffee swirls in warm frothy milk; the familiarity of it all overwhelms him.

you stand there, all beauty and wonder, stealing hoshina’s breath and rendering him speechless as he stops in his tracks for a moment. before you can draw in a puff of breath, he is already marching towards you, closing the distance with purposeful steps.

“hi,” eyes widening slightly in surprise, you breathe out a small chuckle as you look up at him. hoshina mirrors your smile, soft and affectionate as he digs his hands into the pockets of his uniform. “hi.”

you absently lick your bottom lip, though you do notice the way his gaze flickers down to the action for a split second. taking a few glances around, you wonder if any of his officers might somehow emerge from thin air. “aren’t you supposed to be…” forehead creasing, you shrug lightheartedly, “i don’t know. slaying kaiju or something?”

“the operation just ended, sweetheart.” he beams, and his adorable little fangs make their appearance. your eyebrows raise high at his answer. “... but you’re here.” you state, trying to decipher why he’s standing in front of your very eyes, still in his combat uniform (which has people glancing ever so often) rather than reporting to his captain back at base, or freshening up at home.

“but i’m here,” he parrots, watching in interest at the way your expression unfolds. hoshina’s grin grows at your confusion, so wide and cheery that your hands itch to reach up and pinch his cheeks from endearment. instead, you wring your hands behind your back to fidget on them secretly.

the swordsman notices the lack of a plastic cup in your grasp. he takes a quick look at the coffee shop the two of you had been standing in front of before turning back to you, “ya had lunch yet?”

“nope.” you simply reply.

he shifts on the balls of his feet, directing a thumb towards the shop, “... wanna grab somethin’ together?”

a second of silence goes by. and then a laugh breaks out, bubbling from the very back of your throat as you let the mirth freely flow out of you. “soshiro, are you really asking me out right now?”

hoshina bites down on his own smile and lifts a shoulder, “well, is it working on ya?” you shake your head in response, still coming down from your giggles, “i can’t believe you.”

“you love me anyway,” he tilts his head, violet strands softly swaying from the movement. you let out a contented hum, a hand stretching out to brush his hair away from his eyes.

the afternoon sun gleams down on the two of you, but the heat from your little touch burns brighter than anything hoshina has ever felt. he thrives on it, craves it. his skin tingles where it made contact with yours, and his heart races when the sunlight catches on the metal band surrounding your ring finger.

“i do love you,” you agree with a dreamy sigh. “in fact, i’ll love you even more if you make good on your words and buy me a coffee right now, husband.”

oh don’t he love the sound of that label coming out of your lips. perhaps he should call you his wife more often now…

taglist open. and yes they’re married your honour !!! feels like i’m writing about spiderman!hoshina for a sec there (ᵕ—v—)

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

#hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro x you #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina x you #hoshina soushirou #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro fluff #kn8 #kn8 x reader #kn8 x you #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no.8 x reader #kaiju no 8 fluff #kn8 fluff #1kakes event 🎂#🥣 rye works

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ashessonfire · 2 years ago

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Hello, i have a potential kaz x reader request for you!! I, for some reason, love the idea of a very soft/domestic kaz moment with reader who isn’t involved in the crime life. So what about y/n being married to kaz and for some reason she makes her way down to the crow club (maybe someone broke into the house or something) and kaz is extreamly confused and concerned and the rest if the crows are like "andddd who are you?"

if you don't feel it, feel free to ignore!

'Intruder' - Kaz Brekker x reader

Prompt - Kaz is a highly secretive man, even to his closest friends, but what happens when a panicked citizen rushes into the Crow Club demanding his presence? It could even suggest that he had the ability to love. - Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Civilian!Reader (Gender neautral)(married for at least a few years but not specified) - Warnings: Thief enters readers house, brief mention of fighting and injury, a knife?? Kaz just being super soft for you! <333 PART TWO NOW POSTED! (click here) - A/N: Thank you for ALL the love on the last post, and my first fic ever! I hope this does just as well and its enjoyed too. I know its not as fluffy as maybe expected but i really like how it turned out. PLEASE KEEP REQUESTING!!(some moonknight coming soon) <3333

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

The chilling wind of Ketterdam rushed past your face, adding to your already watering eyes that couldn’t stop frantically searching around for further threats.

You had been enjoying a quiet morning, browsing the market, drinking tea with friends, and even finding a new hat for Kaz. All was serene, until you turned the lock in the front door, only to be confronted by a menacing figure, knife gripped in one hand, Kaz’s favourite (and most expensive) tea set in the other.

A small gasp escaped you, before your mind took control, rushing forward to land a harsh blow directly on the figure’s nose, just at the right angle like Kaz had demonstrated.

He let out a murderous scream whilst dropping the tea set onto the ground, the shattering of the pieces echoing in your heart and mind. However, this granted you enough time to grab the edge of his jacket and pull him through the doorframe, using every ounce of your strength.

He stumbled down the steps of the small apartment, loosing his footing and falling rapidly, landing brutally on the cobblestone street below and roaring in pain as a jolting crack resounded from where he landed.

Without thinking, you scrambled inside, bolted the door, and ran as fast as you possibly could out of the side entrance, internally crying as your boots struggled through the remains of your husband's most beloved item.

As you struggled through the tight alleyway, you prayed that the Stadwatch had noticed the commotion and apprehended the man. As you bolted down the poorly lit streets of the barrel, thoughts of terror began plaguing your mind.

What if Kaz hadn’t taught you to defend yourself? What if you had reacted too slowly? Would Kaz be angry with you for not finishing the job? How would ‘Dirtyhands’ react to your utter horror at one intruder?

You were abruptly ripped from your thoughts by the unmistakable image of a crow, hanging magnificently above the crowded street. Pushing your way through the crowd, you suppressed the nerves rising in your chest, threatening to choke you, as you entered the crow club for the first time.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

The unmistakable smell of alcohol and smoke clouded your senses immediately, as crowds of ‘pigeons,’ as Kaz may call them, wandered around the floor without a care for others around them.

As frightening as the previous events had been, you didn’t allow yourself to be overwhelmed by this too, shoving your violently shaking hands into your pockets to stop the visible nerves from showing.

Jesper and Wylan sat in close proximity at the bar edge, as far from the yelling and cheering of the customers as they possibly could. Your gazed locked onto the face of the tall Zemeni man, thinking back to the hundreds of times Kaz’s mask had slipped, and he had spoken fondly of his best friend.

Despite Kaz’s firm objection to verbal communication, he often fell victim to your warmth and comfort, his affections for his crew spilling into casual conversation, almost subconsciously. Of course, the Bastard of the Barrel couldn’t hold onto something as weak as friendship. However, this meant that you were very familiar with each of his ‘crows,’ despite never officially meeting any of them.

Mustering all the courage you could, you sucked in a sharp breath, preparing yourself for the challenging journey to your last hope at finding him.

You weaved your way cautiously between the rowdy groups, dodging drunken gestures and swinging arms, until you reached the pair sat at the bar, panic spreading through your body like wildfire. You made note to keep your hands firmly tucked within the safety of your jacket, in a feeble attempt to keep up a façade of confidence.

As their gazes turned towards you, you gently cleared your throat in the hopes of removing any indication of fright, and in turn, weakness from your voice.

“I’m looking for Kaz? Kaz Brekker?” you stuttered out, eyes darting around to avoid the quizzical gazes of the two men in front of you. Under different circumstances you wished to have met them when your usual air of joy blanketed not only you, but all of those who encountered you too. Yet it seemed like the Saints weren't on your side for that wish today.

You were snapped back from your thoughts, as they glanced at each other, sharing an unspoken but clear sense of bewilderment between them at your odd request. Often drunken pigeons, or rough street urchins would request to see the boss, but it wasn’t a common sight to see a regularly dressed citizen in such a state demanding an audience with Mr Brekker himself.

“I’m afraid it’s pretty difficult to get a meeting with the boss, always busy you know?” spoke the man you assumed to be Jesper, in a kind but skeptical tone, swirling the drink in his hand as he failed to decipher the reason for your visit.

Panic began to claw its way deeper into your chest, as you quickly blurted out “Please, its important, I need to see Kaz. Please bring me to see him.” The sudden outburst once again surprised the men, however Wylan’s gaze softened at the clear desperation on your features, and Jesper’s confusion morphed into something that resembled pity.

Wylan subtly leaned into Jesper, whispering “I think you should take her, she seems pretty desperate?” causing Jesper to let out a sigh before meeting your gaze yet again.

Reluctantly, Jesper stood up, stretching his limbs well, before letting out a dramatic sigh, followed by a feigned annoyance at the request, analyzing you for a moment before stating, “Let’s go see the boss then.”

He quickly turned back to you, flashing a lopsided, yet winning grin, which put to rest some of the bubbling anxiety that was becoming inescapable. As you ascended the stairs to his office, a skeptical looking woman glanced curiously up at the three of you, hopping out of her chair to trail behind you, whilst stuffing the remains of what looked like a waffle into her mouth.

Before you could inquire about the third individual following your small group, you were suddenly met with the dark oak door of Kaz Brekker’s office. Jesper shot another reassuring grin back at you, as he rapidly knocked on the office door and let himself in before an answer called out.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

The instant you saw your husband, the tears glossed over your eyes, shining with a dangerous threat of escaping. However, to your surprise, you were able to win the valiant battle for a little longer.

You knew how vital it was for your husband to keep his personal life separated from his work life; one wrong move, and you could end up in the hands of another gang, tortured in exchange for information on the Dregs. This knowledge was what kept you from barreling towards his desk without a second thought, with even the smallest slip from Jesper potentially ruining every bit of yours and Kaz’s struggle to break down his walls.

Kaz sat at his desk at the centre of the bleak room, a faint patch of light hitting his face from a glowing street lantern, casting deep shadows across his sharp features. His shoulders tensed as he remained solely focused on the blueprint in front of him, his harsh glare at the sheet almost seemed as if he was planning to murder it. Perhaps if you weren’t so shaken you may have let out a soft laugh at his pure concentration.

“What is it? I have no time for irrelevant interruption, this marksheet needs to be completed before twelve bells tonight,” A sharp voice suddenly cut through the thick silence. Jesper cleared his throat before confronting his boss, shifting his weight between each foot at the temper that Kaz was evidently displaying.

“Well, you see, I was sitting downstairs with Wylan at the bar, when all of a sudden…” Jesper started, but was cut off by a deadly look from Kaz to get to the point. As his gaze shot upwards towards the sharpshooter, he finally noticed the second figure in the room and his heart plummeted.

Why were you here?

Kaz’s mind began spinning, grasping for any logical reason as to why you were in the one of the most dangerous staves of the Barrel, requiring his assistance.

An identical panic to yours seized his chest as he inspected your state, your hair was windswept, eyes glossed over and glinting with a touch of fear, a visible shake to your arms and legs, which he had been fortunate enough to never experience until now.

You looked utterly terrified.

A single murderous look was enough for Jesper to throw his hands up in defense, and saunter quietly out of the room, glancing curiously back at the two of you as he shut the door. Jesper thought to himself that his life in the long run would be far more valuable than the price of his curiosity now.

Although Kaz is a man of few words, he seemed truly speechless, barely managing to register his own steps as he moved slowly towards you, each limp bringing his comfort closer and closer to you. Once he had reached your figure, he noticed you had curled in on yourself, hands clasped firmly together in front of you, and eyes darting rapidly around his face, searching for something, as it appeared to him.

He slowly reached towards you, and with a gloved hand, tenderly unwound your fingers from their iron grip, instead intertwining them with his own to bring you comfort and slow your light but swift breathing. Kaz remained tight-lipped, words rushing through his head, yet not formulating into any combination which he thought would be appropriate to calm you down.

He gazed intensely into your eyes, softening with each moment as he took in your shaken state, something that was rare due to his exceptional ability to keep you away from his violent life.

Until now.

Yet you had taught him not to run anymore when he encounters challenges, leading him to battle his mind later, and care for you in the present. Plus, you had the courage to make your way through the barrel in this condition, the least he could do was give you his everything.

You released a long, shaky sigh, staring only at Kaz’s chest now in order to match your breaths, imagining that your hearts were beating together too. You knew Kaz was struggling to find a grip within his thoughts, fingers twitching against your own as his body worked overtime, in a way it only did for you.

Several minutes passed in a strange silence, as the pair of you basked in each other's presence, the close distance allowing both of you to be assured the other is safe and within reach, yet the tension and anxiety still buzzed through the air.

“Someone broke in, I’m not sure who or from where. Tried to steal your favorite tea set, you know the one you brought back from Ravka once? I hit him square like you said. But it, but it boke. Shattered actually. It gave me enough time to run, but I don’t know. He may have followed or…” you suddenly burst out, the emotions flowing out of you through your words, and soon to follow were the tears.

You were cut off in your rambling however, as a feather-light kiss graced your temple, drawing you into a pool of warmth, suddenly able to feel the heat of the fire and the glow of the candles that surrounded Kaz’s office, likely gifts of yours.

Although Kaz’s voice was hardened, you knew he was holding back significantly to soothe you, building up wrath to unleash on the unfortunate man who entered your house earlier. The claws of the anxiety released their hold on you, allowing you to breathe deeply for the first time in hours.

“I’m here, darling, and you don’t need to think about that anymore,” he eventually breathed out, “I'll take care of it. I promise. I promise you,” he whispered against your forehead, again leaving the faintest outline of a kiss on the soft skin.

Whilst he was nowhere near healed, over the years you had opened up his deepest wounds and started to stitch them up, with each moment the pain easing ever so slightly. Direct touches were now common, with light pecks, or hand holding being Kaz's most favored actions.

Sometimes if you were lucky, you could get a short kiss on the lips, or a long hug through the safety of many layers; each being evident signs of his love for you, and how you were truly the only one to crack the code to the Bastard of the Barrel's heart.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Kaz didn’t leave your side for the remainder of the night, bringing you anything you asked for, sitting the armchair closer to his desk to keep him company, hands held tightly until he deemed it safe enough to escort you home.

Wrapping you warmly with his largest coat, he gently placed his best hat atop your head, offering a small smile and breathy laugh as it tilted at an angle. Looking up to meet his gaze, you returned the grin, smile spreading to your eyes and cheeks. Kaz carefully adjusted the edges of the coat to obscure your face, being thorough in the process to avoid any identification of who was accompanying him.

As the door clicked open, and the pair stepped into the hallway, pinkies interlinked, a group of three snooping crows barreled backwards, hitting into each other and the walls. Kaz sent a deathly glare at each of them, as they stood in shock at the sight before them, Jesper gasping, Wylan gaping with fright, and Nina's smirk widening by the second.

After a series of extreme threats hurled at the group outside his office, Kaz pushed past them and dragged you with him, turning his coat collar upwards to hide the growing embarrassment colouring his face.

He crushed the feeling down, instead turning to his internal plotting to enact revenge on your behalf, inwardly smirking at the image of the man begging him for mercy as he pays for his offence in blood.

Meanwhile, Nina stood grinning to herself, proud of her newfound knowledge which she was certain she could use against Kaz at some point soon. Because from that office, she not only heard the hammering heart of the poor citizen girl, but also the one of a love-struck gang leader too.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

#kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader fluff #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n

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chadleys · 1 year ago

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›› pairing: astarion x reader

›› wordcount: 1.9k

›› genre: established relationship, smut, fluff.

›› rating: 18+, mdni

›› synopsis: got a request for pregnant tav and astarion taking place after the events of the game. this is that.

›› warnings: pregnant!reader, impreg, biting, mentions of blood drinking.

the grounds of the manse are still, quiet, as you examine yourself in the full-length mirror by the window. cloud cover has been rolling in all day; a storm is brewing. you wish it would just arrive already — you’ve always loved the rain. and any excuse to spend the afternoon in bed with your beloved while rainfall pounds at the windows is a good one to you.

you turn this way and that, examining the subtle swell of your belly. that’s not the only change you’ve noticed, of course; your hips and thighs are a shade larger, your breasts more plump, arms slightly too thick to fit into most of your tunics anymore.

at the moment a sheer, lacy negligee drapes from your shoulders, the bottom hem barely brushing the backs of your thighs.

just as you start to grimace and turn from the mirror, a knock at the door distracts you.

❝ is my love decent? ❞ astarion’s dulcet tones make your legs quake and a tenuous bout of gooseflesh prick your arms.

❝ as though you’d care either way, ❞ you purr. a moment ago, you were desperate to get away from the reflection in the mirror. now, you stand your ground, waiting for him to enter.

which he does, beautiful body sliding between door and frame as his crimson gaze finds you. he sighs, wistfully, and his bare feet make quiet shuffling noises along the hard wood floor as he approaches. ❝ what can i say other than that you’re right? you are utterly indecent and i have to be honest. i prefer you this way … ❞ those last words spoken right into your ear send a shiver down your spine, your lashes fluttering before flying open again.

this. this is why you so suddenly changed your mind about abandoning your post in front of the mirror. it’s been enchanted. ever since your return to baldur’s gate, both your and astarion’s fortunes have vastly improved. not only monetarily, though it’s certainly been fun to watch your coffers steadily rise and eventually overflow. but also your general quality of life; not only do you have a special midwife who’s been helping to check on the babe from time to time, making the periodic blood meals it requires more palatable for you, but every mirror in the house has been magicked to be able to show a vampire’s reflection.

❝ admiring yourself? ❞ astarion’s voice is unbearably low and intoxicating in your ear. you nearly fall into his arms, as one wraps itself around your waist, hand cupping your belly. ❝ … i know i am. ❞

your hands come to brace themselves on astarion’s forearms, running back and forth, though you’re comforting yourself more than you are him. ❝ just the opposite, ❞ you all but spit. ❝ i don’t look like myself anymore. these changes, they … they disgust me. ❞

suddenly, you’re being whirled, losing your footing. but astarion is there, hands on your biceps, drawing you close and pressing his mouth fiercely to yours.

you melt, fingers clutching at the collar of his tunic, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

just when you think he’s sucked all the air from your lungs, he presses you back and allows you to breathe again.

❝ i don’t ever want to hear you talking about yourself like that again. and i do mean ever. ❞ gentle fingers swipe a lock of hair back from your forehead. ❝ you’re carrying my child; how could you possibly be disgusting? ❞

at a loss for words, you let him wheel you slowly back around to face the mirror. chin hooked over your shoulder, his scorching carmine gaze roves over you. slow hands part the lapels of your negligee, traipsing over all of your newest curves. ❝ look at this beautiful body ... ❞ his voice is low and hot, splashing molten waves over your entire body. ❝ and it's all mine. ❞

in one swift move, he sinks his teeth into your neck, making you moan and squirm against him. he doesn't drink from you anymore, not when you need all the energy you have to keep up with the life growing inside of you. but it's enough for him to continue to mark you, never letting your bites heal fully before he leaves more.

❝ astarion ... ❞ his name is a plea on your lips as you lean back into him, a solid pressure against your back.

❝ i can smell you, ❞ is his response, one hand traveling steadily downward, ❝ getting so wet for me. it happens more often now that you're pregnant, have you noticed? i certainly have. ❞

you want to tell him that it's not like the two of you weren't having sex every single night before. but now you're having sex every morning, too. and afternoon. and evening …

instead, you swallow thickly and swerve onto your other path of thinking. the path that focuses on the heat between your legs, thighs already sticking together as astarion slips a hand between them and cups your sex.

❝ please tell me you were wearing this — ❞ he plucks a piece of flimsy fabric from the negligee between his teeth. ❝ — for easy access? ❞

❝ of course. ❞ it hadn’t even crossed your mind.

astarion releases a shaky breath and steps away from you. you miss him immediately. ❝ get on the bed. ❞ normally he would throw you onto it, bthe two of you are taking every precaution for the baby.

climbing onto the soft bedspread of your giant four-poster bed, you allow astarion to come after you, crawling, hunting you as if you were his prey. the softest, sweetest prey he’d ever encounter.

legs spread, you welcome him between them, where his hardness presses — warm and insistent — against your wetness. but he still has his breeches on.

you hook a finger into the waist and tug, letting the fabric snap back against his alabaster skin. ❝ these, i think, need to come off. ❞

❝ why, i do believe you’re right. ❞ using his roguelike reflexes, the trousers are gone before you know it and his erection is jutting up, thick and hard, against his stomach. the sight is enough to make you salivate.

normally you’d put it in your mouth straight away, but pregnancy has made you overly sensitive to nausea and you really don’t want to chance ruining this lovely afternoon. so you pull him down by his tunic and kiss him again, your tongues slipping, dancing, enjoying themselves.

one of astarion’s hands has found itself down between your legs again, and he parts from you to whisper, ❝ you’re so wet … i think i could just … ❞

he trails off, and the head of his cock finds your entrance. gentle fingers splay your lips apart and he guides himself right into you, gliding easily along your slick walls. this is not the first time you’ve gotten wet so easily for him and certainly won’t be the last.

you pull your legs back, hooking your arms around your knees to hold yourself open for him. you’ve made this exact shape with your body many times before, and not always in a bed as comfortable as this one. but the extra weight you’ve put on makes holding the position a touch more difficult this time, and one of your legs slips from your grasp, knocking astarion hard in the side.

❝ gods, sorry! ❞ you reach for him, to make sure he’s okay, but the vampire catches your hand easily and pins it to the bedclothes, fingers twined with yours.

❝ never apologize to me, my love. you have no need to. you could ravish me, and still i would thank you. ❞

the thought makes your toes curl; being with astarion hasn’t always been easy, especially when you first met. but now … especially now that you’re pregnant, his desire to dote upon you has grown immeasurably. you want nothing more than to bask in the intensity of his gaze forevermore … and to give birth to his child, of course, but that is still months off.

❝ i still c-can’t believe, ❞ you stutter as he begins to thrust, ❝ you actually managed to get me pregnant. ❞

astarion covers your swollen belly with one of his perfect hands, and both of you watch your breasts sway as he fucks you. ❝ my dear, i was so full of your blood that night i’d be surprised if you don’t give birth to twins. ❞

the thought makes your head swim, your legs clench around his waist, drawing him in, wanting him so much deeper.

neither of you had strictly known that was how it worked; that the more blood a vampire had drunk, the more virile they’d become. not until conducting some research and investigation after you’d mysteriously missed your cycle that month.

needless to say, however, both of you were beyond thrilled.

❝ careful, ❞ you jest, with your legs still tight around him, urging him on. ❝ don’t want to poke the baby’s eye out. ❞

astarion chuckles, leaning down to lay a chiding bite to your chest, fully on display now that the opposites sides of your negligee had fallen completely open. ❝ i don’t claim to be an expert, but i don’t think that’s how it works, love. ❞

as if to prove his point, his hips start to piston in and out of you. harder, faster, astarion holds your gaze as he all but begins to plow you.

pregnancy has made you sensitive in ways you couldn’t believe were possible. the ridges of his fat cock dragging against your tight walls make the room go fuzzy, the bed canopy above you shifting and twinkling like a sky full of stars.

your hands are in his hair, tugging, drawing a hiss from him as he tosses his head back against your ministrations.

he growls, tight and low, that he wants to see you cum, wants to see you lose yourself for him. and you can’t help but obey.

your entire body seizes, toes curling in the sheets, and astarion fucks you through it with harsh, demanding thrusts. you’re so wet that his cock makes sticky sweet noises every time he enters you.

it takes him no time at all, after that, to finish for you. this time you pull your legs back as far as possible and tell him to cum as deep inside of you as he can, wishing to every god you believe in that he could get you pregnant again now, fuck another baby into you.

the one already inside of you is demanding enough, but you can’t help but marinate on astarion’s earlier words: what if you’re having twins? the thought fills you with inexplicable joy, heart pounding big and broad in your chest.

astarion sighs and slips to the side of you, sliding down to place his cheek against your belly. ❝ see? i don’t think he minds at all … ❞

❝ oh? and how do you know it’s a he? ❞ you can barely catch your breath to ask, fingers brushing hair back from astarion’s sweaty forehead.

❝ i don’t. but if you have a boy, you can be guaranteed i’ll be getting you pregnant again as fast as i can, so that he’ll have a sister to keep him in line. ❞

#so basically you and astarion live in a gigantic mansion in the city #watching your gold pile up #fucking all day #sounds just like what they deserve after the shit they went through #my writing #astarion hc #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion smut #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 smut #f!reader

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messrmoonyy · 1 month ago

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- Amor vincit omnia

Marcus Acacius x Fem!reader

Summary: Marcus returns from another military campaign and finds you tense with the unrest building in Rome, thanks to your brothers blood thirsty ways. And so he helps take your mind off it.

A/N- this purely self indulgent. Marcus has me by the throat. He has done since trailer 1. Tough men who melt for their woman!!! I am so here for that. Watching the movie and seeing how he was with Lucilla? I was a goner. So. Here’s this.

Warnings- 18+ | likely inaccurate/ooc Marcus as this is my first time writing for him. And writing for this time period. Not mentioned but kind of implied age gap. Smut: unprotected p in v, slight fingering( wc-4.5k )

Being born into royalty guaranteed you a life of luxury. Stability. No need to worry or want for anything. But that didn’t mean you were happy.

Your brothers had all the power the empire had to offer. And you? Very little.

They kept you hidden away for the most part. Even your quarters in the palace were on the complete opposite side to your brothers. Like a prisoner in your own home. Kept away. Out of sight. You couldn’t leave unless they allowed it, and even in that rare occurrence you were not to be let out of sight.

They brought you out for appearances sakes. Let the people of Rome see you at the colosseum from time to time. Let your face been seen to greet people at their frequent feasts, eat with them but remain silent. And then be sent away before they indulged in their hedonistic pleasures for the evening.

But your appearances being at only prestigious events, meant you mingled with the nobility at times. And along with that, had come to know Romes beloved General.

You’d been enamoured from day one. The first time you’d gotten to actually talk to him, the way he had looked at you like you were one the goddesses before him. The way he wanted to know about you. Listen. Had sat with you for what felt like hours as you gushed over how much you adored Virgil and Catullus. And though your brothers desire to hide you away kept you lonely for the most part, it also meant they rarely had their eye on you when you were inside palace walls. Which allowed for many a secret rendezvous.

Like the one you were presently waiting on.

Stood in the large arched window of your chambers, looking at the gardens below, the only place you could really roam freely. The flora bright and lush even in the twilight. Flowers that you couldn’t even name, buds and seeds brought back amongst the many stolen items from the Generals travels. His conquests under command of your brothers.

One of those conquests that was being celebrated presently. Past the gardens you could see the city alight with celebrations still. The rich throwing parties in their homes and gardens, whilst Romes lesser subjects suffered. The fires in the streets there to keep warm, not to light up lavish parties and celebrations. Celebrations like the ones presently in the palace. Which you cared very little for, but it did allow for a much easier meeting with your lover, as he was already inside palace walls. Eating. Drinking. Dancing maybe. Making himself seen for appearances sake when really all he was really waiting for was to get to you.

All he’d have to do is slip through the crowds and disappear from sight. Take the well practiced walk to your chambers. And hide away with you for the night.

And so. Eventually you heard a knock on your door. Firm and short. Then the sound of someone entering without being given vocal permission.

You didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. No one else entered your room without asking first. Your staff wouldn’t dare, even though you were always kind to them. Considerate. Far gentler than most nobles would deem necessary. They still knew their place. And they knew to obey you.

But Marcus knew he could enter without permission. He had done it often enough. Though he would always wait by the door once inside for you to speak. Acknowledge him. Wait to be fully welcomed into your space.

You were silent for a few short moments. Eyes still transfixed on the lights in the distance past the palace gates.

“ Rome is alight with joy at your return “ you finally spoke up, eyes still watching the glow of the lights in the city. Listening to the sounds of the happy crowds as they danced and cheered. Chanted and sang in drunken joy. Mingling with the cry’s of those that begged for food.

Events like this could distract them from the utter misery most of them were suffering each day. But not completely.

The tensions in Rome were rising. And it made you uneasy.

“ unnecessary celebrations “ Marcus murmured. He never had liked the fanfare. The attention. He was a soldier to his bones, not a fancy nobleman who liked to flash his privilege around and indulge in such festivities.

“ my brothers don’t seem to agree “ you responded. If you focussed enough you could hear the music somewhere in the palace “ through they will take any possibility to throw a party “

You heard Marcus stepping a little closer but he didn’t say anything for a few moments.

“ I was expecting them to bring you out “

“ I told them I was unwell and not up to it “ it had been a lie. But you didn’t want to go down there and force a smile onto your face. Sit still and pretty, when your mind was elsewhere. And had been for weeks “ I sense unrest in the near future “ you said quietly. Eyes still fixed on the celebrations “ it makes me uneasy “

“ you say that as if there is not always a lingering unrest in the empire. Men will always want to be gods. Emperors will always want more. More. More my darling “ Marcus said. His voice low and collected. It made you turn your head a little to the side to glance his way.

“ maybe so. But it is different this time Marcus “ you spoke, voice a little firmer as if to make him listen. Understand your lingering fears for what was beginning to boil under the surface of Romes imperial strength.

He stood there in a state of silence for a moment, a hand twisting one of the rings on his fingers as he seemed to take in what you said. Then, he let out another short exhale before speaking once more.

“ I am not sure of what’s about to transpire.” He admitted a little bluntly “ But I’m starting to sense it too. Like a storm, just waiting to happen. The people are starving. They sleep with empty bellies whilst emperors gorge themselves.”

He looked over at you, a concerned look apparent in his expression. He stepped in closer once again. He was within touching distance now. And he spoke again, his voice becoming more hushed like there was someone else there with you. Always scared someone may be listening in. The walls would always have ears “ It worries me. Greatly ”

“ me too “ you admitted quietly. If it came down to it and the people revolted. Or the senate conspired… you would be defenceless. Not only were you a woman. But the sister of the emperors. The emperors that more and more people in Rome were starting to despise. Would you be used as an example? Sent to the colosseum? Beheaded and your head staked outside the palace doors? There was a never ending list of how it would end for you. And none of the outcomes were particularly pretty.

Rome enjoyed punishing those it felt deserved it. Whether they truly did or not.

“ but it does no good to dwell on such thoughts “ you said after another few moments of silence. Fidgeting slightly with the fine material of your stola.

Marcus was behind you now. If you thought hard enough you could swear you could feel his body heat through the gold of his ceremonial armour.

“ so you do not think of the possibilities?”

“ no “ you said maybe a little too fast. It made a soft chuckle escape his lips and his hands landed on your shoulders. His touch was like magic. Like it has shattered the tense feeling not only in the air around you but in your limbs.

“ I know you too well my lady “ that made you smile. Just a little. A small twitch in your lips

“ that you do “ you smiled softly, turning your head to brush your cheek softly to his fingers. He squeezed your shoulders softly, a silent request for you to turn around. And you did, tilting your head slightly to the side as you looked up at him. Your hand coming up to scratch softly at his beard.

“ and you must know if things should collapse in the city… if I should- “ he sighed and cut himself off for a moment. You got the idea he was planning something. Something he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, tell you. But you trusted him implicitly. And you knew that if he wasn’t telling you it was for good reason. That when the time came he would tell you what you needed to know “ just know my lady, my loyalty does not lie with your brothers “ he said after a few beats of silence “ my loyalty, as it always has, lies with you “

You would’ve known that without him having to say it. But it was always nice to hear. Especially in a time where you felt so utterly and completely helpless. Alone.

But it also made you realise how much your time may be precious. Your time with Marcus specifically. If he was planning something, something big. It would be risky. Worse than any barbarian filled, untamed part of the empire. If he were to try conspire-

“ I do not wish to discuss it anymore “ you said and ran your fingertips over the cool gold of the laurels on his head “ war and death. What is morally right and wrong… it makes my head ache so deeply “

Marcus was a good distraction. He always was. He kept you sane.

“ and such a pretty head. What a crime for it to come to any pain “ his fingers skimmed some of your hair behind your ear, that gorgeous smile of his on his face that only you really got to see. It made you so weak in the knees. The way his eyes crinkled, those beautiful little lines that formed in the corners. You laughed softly at his words, always so appreciative. Complimentary.

You didn’t know what was going on with the tensions building in rome. You didn’t know how much longer Geta and Caracalla could keep their tentative grasp on things. But one thing you did know. Was that Marcus Acacius was devoted to you entirely.

And you to him.

“ I did miss you greatly “ you whispered after a few moments, realising you hadn’t mentioned it “ each time you are away… I… I am sure I spend the majority of my day on my knees praying to the gods “

Marcus’ large hands moved then to gently cup your face, his calloused palms rough against your perfectly smooth skin in a way that shouldn’t have felt as nice as it did.

“ you know I will always come back to you my lady. Always “ he murmured, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks “ never, and I mean never think I would leave you willingly. The gods themselves would have to rip me from your side, and even then I wouldn't stop fighting to come back to you."

You smiled softly and let your eyes close for a moment, your hands sliding up his arms to gently wrap your fingers around his wrists. Like he may vanish any second

“ oh how I missed you “ you whispered.

Marcus looked down at you with a mix of fondness and sorrow in his eyes. His sweet, lonely, girl.

As his head dipped down you instantly tipped your head up to meet him, his angular nose brushing against yours for a moment like he was waiting for permission to kiss you. He didn’t need it. But he always wanted it

“ kiss me my darling “ you whispered, lips so close to his they brushed as you spoke. And in a beat he granted your request. His lips capturing yours. It was like every drop of tension immediately vanished from your body, stepping closer to him so that your chest pressed to the solid force that was his.

He always kissed you like you were delicate. And he’d confessed such thoughts too. Like he was too brutish and strong. That he didn’t have a place kissing someone as gentle as you.

But it never took much convincing to urge him on.

You let yourself melt into it, let him hold your face so tenderly as he kissed away your fears and your stress. Even if just for tonight.

You had missed him. Missed this. The familiar tickly, scratchy feel of his moustache and beard against your soft skin. The way his large hands that were so stained in blood, used to such violence and anger, being soft. Gentle. Tender as they slipped into your hair. Twisting the strands around his fingers to anchor himself to you.

“ take me to bed “ you whispered against his lips when you both had no choice but to pull back slightly, breaths mingling in short soft pants “ give me the tender affections i so deeply crave “

“ you know I could never deny you my lady “ he murmured with a smile that made a small, soft laugh bubble past your lips. It was true. He never would. You were the only woman, only person period, who could make this man weak in the knees. He’d drop to the floor and kiss your feet in utter submission if you asked it of him.

He scooped you up into his arms with a smile, carrying you across the room to gently deposit you on your bed. You looked up at him with a coy smile as you lay amongst the plush linens.

From your spot you watched as he made swift work of removing the outer layers of his ceremonial armour. Watching a man who was conditioned to need to be protected at all times, need to be strong and prepared, remove the precious clothes… it always felt like a privilege.

You giggled softly when he climbed onto the bed with you, moving over your body in just his tunic now, propping himself above you on his elbows.

“ my beautiful one, like a goddess laying in wait for me here “ he murmured, brushing the backs of his fingers to your cheek “ as tempting as Venus herself “

“ I am no goddess my darling “ you whispered, leaning slightly into his touch as your eyes locked onto his.

He kissed you again. Like you were a source of air. And his large hands wandered, the fine fabric of your stola being pushed up your body, then over your head. His hands and lips everywhere. Mapping out every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it committed to memory.

“ always so soft “ he murmured as his lips descended between the valley of your breasts, your back arching up as if to chase the feeling even more.

“ let me feel your skin on mine “ you whispered. Hands weakly tugging on his tunic. He didn’t need to be told twice. And it soon had joined your stola on the floor, a blissful sigh leaving your lips as he pressed his body to yours. It felt like being reawakened. Like the shackles keeping your mind so locked in a sense of fear and unrest… shattered. The feel of his war ravaged body against yours. So soft and pristine. Never having done a days hardship in your life. It felt… right. So unbearably right.

“ my little dove. So perfect and all mine “ he whispered as he kissed at your neck, his hand sliding down your body. Following the curves and the lines, the soft feminine dip of your waist and curve of your hip. Tracing a gentle path down until it settled between your thighs, fingers brushing through the soft thatch of curls and then along your slit.

“ your body is already preparing itself for me “ he murmured next to your ear, his thick fingers gliding through the slippery slickness between your thighs. It was a little embarrassing. All you’d done was kiss, feel his hands running over your body. And yet you were soaked.

“ you see how much I have missed you?” You whispered, your eyes locked onto his as he lifted his face from your neck.

“ I missed you too my darling “ he whispered, and you whined softly as one of his fingers gently pushed into your welcoming warmth “ every night I lay sleeping on that ship I dreamt of being inside you once again “ his words made your cheeks flush, the thought of him on his way to a brutal battle. But thinking of you. Wanting to be home with you.

His fingers that were usually covered in blood or dust or sweat. Now dripping with the essence of you. The metallic scent of ichor nowhere to be found, just the heady scent of your arousal clinging to his fingers instead.

“ Marcus “ you whimpered softly as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, the soft wet sounds mingling with your breathy pants. So weak from something as simple as his hand.

“ shh I know little dove “ he murmured and kissed your forehead. Your cheek “ your body always welcomes me so warmly. So readily. How I dreamed of being in this moment again with you “ his words were like honey, your body melting into the bed with their combination of his touch. He pleasured you as naturally as he held his sword. A man able to kill and give pleasure as if they were one and the same. A rigid dichotomy you didn’t wish to think too much about in that moment.

“ I dreamed of you too “ you whimpered “ every night I wished you were laying beside me “ he smiled and curled his fingers up, making a gasp escape your lips and your hips buck.

“ such filthy thoughts for a princess “

When he deemed you prepared enough, he withdrew his fingers. Sucking your essence from them in a way that never failed to make your cheeks burn.

“ the filthy one here is you my love “ you whispered, making him chuckle as he settled between your legs, using his knee to nudge your thighs apart, you let out a steady exhale. You could feel the heavy weight of his hard length against your leg and it made you chew on your bottom lip.

“ are you ready for me little dove?” He whispered, gently brushing some hair back from your face. He always gazed upon you like you were the most beautiful creature.

“ yes. Yes I am ready “ you replied and turned your head to kiss the palm of his hand that had settled against your cheek “ please Marcus. I have waited so long. So patiently. Do not make me wait a moment longer “

His eyes lingered a little longer. Just to be sure. Always wanting to be sure. Before wrapping his hand around his throbbing length and notching it at your weeping entrance.

You whined and arched your back when he pushed forward. Your body had missed him, missed the stretch. The weight. The fullness. And it welcomed him home with a practiced familiarity. Like the space inside of you was carved out specifically for him and him alone.

You watched his face intently, a hand on his cheek to take in every single emotion. The way his brow furrowed as soon as he felt your body envelope him, slowly sliding into you and stretching your walls so perfectly around him. A deep moan falling past his lips.

“ you feel so good. Always so good my flower " He whispered, his tone deep and husky. He knew you took no other lovers. Unlike your brothers that seemed to be making their way through every single concubine in Rome. Your body was his. For him. His eyes his hands. And so it had been a while since you’d last taken him. Since before he’d left for Numidia. And he knew this. So he was even more gentle than usual "Just a bit more. You can take all of me, I know you can." He gently encouraged you, his hand moving to gently push at your thigh. Opening you up just that little bit more to him, his eyes drifting down briefly to watch the way your body eagerly accepted him in.

“ I’m okay “ you whispered, a shaky exhale leaving your lips “ I can take it “ you agreed, urging him to pepper your face in soft gentle kisses. He never wanted your discomfort.

“ that’s my sweet girl “ he murmured and kept pushing on until his pelvis was flush to yours, the soft curls at his base tickling your skin in the most delicious way “ there we go. That’s it”

He remained still for a few moments, your eyes locked on his as you took deep and slow breaths. Adjusting. Your body reacquainting itself with his.

“ ready my flower?” He whispered and kissed your cheek. You simply gave him a nod, your hand sliding over his strong bicep and squeezing softly.

He remained still a moment longer, then gently began to move within you. Every thrust was slow and deep, almost teasing in nature. Slow, long, drags. Pulling out almost completely before sliding back in at an agonisingly slow speed "Good, little dove... That's my girl..." he whispered, his voice still reassuring and gentle. One large hand shifting to gently knead at your chest, trying to relax you as much as humanly possible " you take me so well “

Soft, sweet moans escaped your lips as he settled into a steady but oh so deep pace. Your hips already beginning to ache at having to stretch so wide to accommodate his broad body, but it was a welcomed ache. It made you feel alive in a way you only felt with him.

“ oh Marcus “ you gasped your hand slipping to grasp the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls there that were already damp with with a sheen of sweat that was glowing on his skin.

"Oh gods..." He groaned, closing his eyes at the blissful sensations you offered him . The tight heat, the sound of your breathy little moans. He knew and you knew that they didn't always have time for slow, passionate lovemaking, but he was enjoying every single moment of it. He didn't want it to end. The general wanted it to last forever. As did you.

But there was also an underlying desperation lingering between the two of you. Of how much you had missed each other. How desperately you needed each other.

And his hand moved away from your chest to grasp your free hand, interlocking his fingers with yours and pinning it down against your bed sheets.

“ Marcus “ you whimpered in some pathetic kind of way. A plea. For more. More. Always more. More of him. More of the two of you. Just. More.

“ I know my darling. I know. I’ve got you sweet one “ he whispered and readjusted his position, thrusting into you with a little more urgency. Harder. Deeper.

He began groaning louder, letting himself go in a way he had once confessed he never had with previous lovers. Always wanting it done quick. Emotionless. But not with you, never like that with you. He let his walls down. It was more than just a means to an end with you. It was special. Passionate. It was love.

His hips continued to push hard against yours, your body jostling with each deep thrust he granted you "There you go, my love. Look at you taking all of me." He praised, holding onto your hand tightly like he was scared you’d vanish "You don't know how divine you look right now..." he murmured into her ear, dropping his head to pepper your neck with kisses. Careful not to mark you, gods forbid your brothers should pay attention long enough to see “ the most ethereal creature “

“ I missed you so “ you whimpered, your arms tight around his neck to hold him close “ I missed you “

“ and I you my love… you feel so perfect… so tight. So wet. Perfect for me my flower “ he murmured against your ear, his teeth playfully nipping at your soft skin " I missed you my dove..." he breathed your familiar pet name like a prayer as he made love to you, every movement of his hips bringing you both closer to ecstasy. And ecstasy you knew would be more earth shattering than ever after so long without his touch.

He whispered softly in your ear , his lips grazing your skin. Praising you. Loving you. Over and over "I've missed this, my love. I've missed being inside you, feeling your body against mine. I promise to never to leave you again" you knew it was a empty promise. That he would leave again. That the emperors would call him away.

But you didn’t call him out on the fact. Too lost in him. The feelings he gave you.

“ I love you my darling “ you whimpered as the familiar tension started to grow deep in your body, with every thrust hitting the most incredible spot inside you. It made tears spring in your eyes. But not out of sadness or pain. Out of utter joy and happiness at having him back in your arms even for a short period.

“ and I… you little dove “ he panted softly, his head lifting as his eyes locked on yours. He knew your body well. Knew the signs of your impending climax and he kissed your lips before speaking again “ you’re close sweet one “

You nodded and grasped at his face to keep his eyes locked with yours “ finish with me?” You pleaded “ please “ he nodded and kissed you again, picking up his pace ever so slightly, one hand pushing your thigh up as if to let him get impossibly deeper.

And a few more deep strokes had you stumbling head first over the edge. Your orgasm so blinding you were certain it made your vision blur. Every nerve in your body sparking like hot coals. And the way your walls spasmed and clenched down around Marcus was clearly his undoing too. Delivering one final, deep thrust before he groaned loudly, spilling his seed into you in a way that you would never tire of. No matter how risky the situation was.

Your body trembled as your climax finally dissipated. Going weak and boneless as you sunk into the linens below you, panting softly as you still clung to Marcus. Who was fighting the urge to just drop down against you too.

But he carefully rolled off you, pulling you against his side immediately. A soft kiss to your forehead and a large hand stroking down your spine. You were certain this was what pure bliss felt like. Maybe you’d died and fallen into the elysian fields. Peace and bliss and love.

“ I love you “ he whispered and kissed your head again as you lay composing yourself against his chest “ and I meant what I said little dove…. My loyalties lie with you. And if- “

“ shh “ you said softly and lifted your head, placing a finger to his lips “ not now. Let us just enjoy this moment together “ you didn’t know how many of these moments you would get now. They had always been special and each moment was to be cherished. But even more so now.

You didn’t know what the future held for Rome. Or for you. But you knew Marcus would be at your side. And that was enough for now.

#first Marcus fic let’s go!#marcus acacius #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #Marcus Acacius x reader #Marcus Acacius smut #gladiator 2 smut #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #x you #Geta #Caracalla #lucius verus

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lay-z · 2 months ago

Text

🕊 Day 10 – Santa Soap and his most dangerous mission

A continuation to 🌨 Day 2 – Quaint, which means it’s set in the same universe!

Synopsis: At the annual Christmas party on base, you’re torn between making a quick escape and holding out to get a glimpse of someone special.

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: No smut. | military!Reader; cussing; nicotine addiction; friendship; mutual pining; medical inaccuracies; humour; fluff; friends/teammates to lovers

Word count: 2.5k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

You’ve made the internal decision that you’ll clock the next bloody bastard who dares to approach you only to comment on your appearance tonight. The fact that you’re wearing a dress and heels and some makeup for a rare change, has definitely gained too much attention from the wrong crowd.

Standing in a corner of the adapted and decorated event location, close to the ceiling-to-floor windows that lead to the equally decorated large balcony, you pick at the sleeve of your dress with one hand while holding an empty wine glass in the other, feeling yourself getting terribly antsy as the night progresses.

Hell, it has already slipped your mind at this point in the evening, why you even decided to get all dolled up. You hate the attention from male soldiers here on base, especially superiors who might take it the wrong way, though you could care less about the rookies. You stand above their opinions and the rumours about you.

You’re at a point where you’d kill for a ciggy right about now, but you’re trying to quit the dirty habit to start the New Year a better person than last. So, cold turkey, because you’re that determined and petty to quit after both Gaz and Soap taunted you about never being able to do it. On top of that, more alcohol is also not an option, because it would only worsen the need for a beloved cancer stick.

Glancing at the watch on the wall, you see that it’s been barely an hour since you showed up here, and you’re already mentally debating if it’s appropriate to make an early escape back to your quarters. Perhaps you can dodge Captain Price on your way out, the man who’d secretly ordered you to socialize and mingle.

However, in the back of your mind, there’s also that nagging voice that keeps making your stomach twist and knot with questionable words and thoughts, and desires, about your Lieutenant.

You haven’t seen him yet… and most importantly, he hasn’t seen you!

No, you didn’t dress up for Ghost, of course not. That would be so silly and frankly, also pathetic.

“Oh, look at ye!”

Once Soap’s voice reaches your ears over the noise of the surrounding crowd, you fear your eyes might roll back so far into your skull that they might get stuck this time.

You cross your arms over your chest awkwardly, still holding the empty wine glass, “Will you leave me alone already? No, I don’t wanna kiss under your fucking mistletoe and I’m not gonna call you ‘Santa Soap’, either.”

Gaz practically spawns next to Soap, wearing a matching Santa hat like the goofy Scotsman, a drink in his hand, pearly whites gleaming in the dim light as he grins mischievously, “Now, why would you be such a grump on this fine evening, Sergeant? Our Santa here’s simply trying his best to spread the Christmas spirit.”

Meanwhile, Soap nods enthusiastically while fetching another mistletoe from the inside pocket of his dark grey lumber jacket, just like the one you’d previously thrown away when he tried to make you kiss him earlier.

“Did you seriously bring more than one?”

Soap nods innocently, bright blue eyes shining with mirth and liquor, “Aye, ‘course. Cannae show up unprepared, my wee she-elf.”

Gaz snorts, “Always pack enough ammo.” He nods approvingly and takes a sip of his drink.

You roll your eyes again, “Ugh, shut up you two.”

“Aw, are we a bit narky, eh? Need a ciggy that bad already, lassie?” Soap coos tauntingly, grinning boyishly when you scoff and turn your back to them dismissively, a clear pout on your red-painted lips.

“I think she’s just vexed, because our Lt. didn’t show up yet.” Gaz mumbles into his glass, peeking over the rim as he gauges your reaction.

That makes your breath falter momentarily, because have you been that obvious lately?

After you spent that night on guard duty with Ghost a few weeks ago, you felt like you’d made progress with him. He’d opened up a bit about his childhood and past, though he always kept things sort of vague, and in return, you were soaking up each tiny bit of intel you could gather about him, eager to solve the puzzle – or get a glance of the display picture of the puzzles' carton, at least.

The mystery about him didn’t stop your rapidly cementing crush on him, either. And it’s an odd feeling, falling in love, after so many years of successfully throwing yourself into your career instead of focusing on a possible romantic relationship.

Who knew you’d find the latter at your bloody job of all places.

You look down into your wine glass, swirling the last ruby droplet around as you bite your tongue, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Here you are, thinking you were being sneaky with your growing – and much forbidden – infatuation with your superior.

Soap nudges Gaz’ side while you’re not looking, shaking his head at his friend and teammate with his thick brows furrowed chidingly, making Gaz shrug in return, his expression apologetic before he lifts his drink up to his lips again.

“Think I saw him head out on the balcony, lassie,” Soap remarks, his voice surprisingly serious and soft for a change, “If ye’re stealthy enough ye might catch him.”

“We both know that’d be impossible, Johnny,” you retort languidly as you lift up the wine glass to slurp up the tiny droplet, “No one can sneak up on Simon. Plus, he’s not here, so stop lying.”

“Simon?!” The men bark in unison, eyebrows shooting up as if you’d just insulted their mothers.

“Oooh, since when are you two on first name basis?” Gaz inquires curiously, his warm brown eyes getting that familiar spark whenever he smells potential new gossip – gossip you won’t provide this time.

“We’re not,” you lie, smacking your lips as you crave another drink – and a cigarette along with it, “– and if we were, I wouldn’t tell you, Garrick.”

Soap snickers, stepping around you and giving your shoulders a few squeezes. He rubs them obnoxiously until you shrug him off with an annoyed click of your tongue and a glare over your shoulder.

“Could you stop? You’re so annoying.”

Gaz laughs as he watches you and Soap act like cat and dog, his eyebrow quirking with a knowing smile when Soap pries the wine glass out of your hand next, giving your back a soft shove towards the balcony doors.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’ll keep bein’ annoyin’, so ye better take a breather now, sweetheart.”

“Muppets,” you mutter under your breath, getting more agitated by their behaviour, “Both of you!”

Gaz lifts his hands in surrender, chuckling as he takes a side step to let you walk past while you keep mumbling to yourself under your breath.

“Risky,” Gaz remarks, flashing a grin at Soap once you’re out of ear shot, “This might be your best work so far… or a guaranteed arse kicking, MacTavish. You don’t think she’ll notice?”

“Nah,” Soap sighs dreamily, looking in the direction you left in before he perks up again, “Let’s get another drink, eh?”

As you step outside onto the balcony, you take a swift glance around before you immediately regret not bringing your jacket as the icy winds swirl about.

Hugging your arms around yourself, you take a few sauntering steps farther out on the spacious balcony, admiring the fairy lights wrapped around the long railing and the clear night sky as you tip your head back to look at the moon and stars.

It’s still a wonder to you, how unique the sky looks in different countries; have you spent some of your time on deployments simply stargazing whenever you found yourself on guard duty and whenever you felt safe enough to do so.

And suddenly, as the noises from inside, all the chatter and boisterous laughter and music, are simply muffled into the background, you feel utterly lonely and… strangely defeated.

“What the hell am I even doing here?” You groan quietly and sigh deeply, warm breath puffing and fogging up in the cold.

“That’s what ‘m askin’ myself.”

Nearly jumping out of your skin with a gasp, you almost turn your ankle in your pumps as you flinch away from the dark corner to your right.

You can only see the flickering flame of a lighter first, followd by the amber glow of a cigarette tip, blue smoke curling in the darkness and evaporating into nothingness, before the behemoth of a man steps out of the shadows towards you, like the grim reaper himself, living up to his name as Ghost.

“Fucking hell, Simon,” you chide, still breathing heavily as you clutch your rapidly beating heart, though now it’s beating for a whole different reason, “You need to stop scaring people like that!”

“Not my problem you’re jumpy like a little bunny.” He retorts gruffly, though you can clearly hear the smile in his voice before you can see it.

His simple, black balaclava is rucked up over his nose again as he takes another lazy drag of his cigarette while his dark eyes give you an agonizingly slow once over, one that has your heart flutter and your cheeks burn. He keeps the smoke in his lungs as he speaks, “You look nice. Different.” He exhales.

Needless to say, you don’t clock him for that.

“Different,” you repeat under your breath as you look at him; drinking in the exposed, pale skin of his neck, his cheeks, his mouth, as always. You notice that he shaved. He’s wearing a pair of jeans that clings to his muscular thighs nicely, a dark hoodie and black leather jacket along with boots.

He looks nice. Hot, actually. God... he’s so hot...

“Aye, different as in nice. Want me to tell ya that you’re beautiful?” He asks bluntly, taking another drag, “Would feel wrong to tell ya that now, lass. You were already beautiful without all –“ He makes a vague gesture to your face and dress, “– ‘o that.”

“Okay, thanks.” You squeak; your throat now terribly dry. There is nothing you would love more than snatch the cigarette from his thick fingers to take a greedy drag and calm your jangled nerves.

“Mhmm,” he hums, then and doesn’t stop staring; his onyx eyes flickering over your form as if he’s assessing you.

“Why are you out here anyway?” He makes another gesture at your outfit, “Dressed like that. It’s too cold, ya dafty.”

You could ask him the same, but you feel like you know the answer to that. He hates crowds and avoids social gatherings if he can help it, but Price has ordered him to attend just like he did you.

“I just... needed some air,” you shrug and Ghost nods as he fetches a pack of smokes from his chest pocket, flicking the lid open with his thumb before holding it out to you.

Your fingers twitch against your arms, nails clawing into the fabric of your dress while your nostrils flare as you get a whiff of sweet, sweet tobacco. But then, the nagging voices of Gaz and Soap echo in your mind, and if they would catch you smoking out here, you’d never hear the end of it – and frankly, that’s not worth your nerves.

“Can’t,” you croak out, refusing reluctantly. Your eyes flit from his offer up to his eyes while he raises an eyebrow under his mask questioningly, “I quit.”

Ghost snorts, flicking the lid closed again, “Why?” The small pack disappears back into his pocket.

“Someone told me it’s unhealthy,” you jest with a small shrug, hugging your arms tighter around yourself as the cold starts seeping into your bones.

“Hmpf,” he hums again and pauses before he takes another slow drag, “What an arsehole.” He exhales through his nose, smoke curling into the air as he smiles bemusedly.

And then, there is a tense pause as you watch how the golden glow of the surrounding fairy lights reflect in his dark brown eyes, adding a sudden soft warmth to his lingering gaze.

“Can you blow some smoke in my face?” You ask, biting your inner cheek before adding, “I read that’s what pregnant ladies do when they struggle to quit smoking at once.”

“Bollocks.” He barks out a laugh, flashing his slightly crooked teeth you’ve come to adore so much. Teeth who’ve been broken violently and been fixed too many times.

“It’s true!” You whine playfully, chuckling along with him, and then he gives you an odd look, his lips tighten into a line before he speaks, “Close yer eyes.”

Your stomach does a flip at his soft-spoken command, your heart flutters violently as he takes a step closer, taking a long drag. And then, you do as he says and close your eyes, tilting your head back expectantly.

A few seconds later, the warm caress of his breath and thick cigarette smoke brush over your cold skin, making your skin pebble underneath your dress. You inhale greedily, lips parting slightly as you try to catch the taste of it discreetly.

“More?” He rasps and you nod slowly, keeping your eyes closed, “Yes, please.” You utter softly.

Another few seconds later, you hear the crunch of boots on concrete, and then you suddenly feel the tentative press of chapped lips on yours.

Your eyes squeeze together, and you nearly pull back in shock, but his hand is already cupping the back of your head gently, his other warm mammoth hand resting on your waist; his body heat seeping through your dress as he closes the distance between your bodies. The fabric of his balaclava brushes against your face as your noses nudge together before makes you tilt your head.

He kisses you slowly, somewhat clumsily, as if he’s calculating and overthinking each move of his lips, but by God, it’s good. So good, and so much better than you always imagined, because it’s real.

Your hands slip to the front of his broad, buff chest, fingers clutching his open leather jacket and holding on for dear life as your brain starts to shut off. The tip of his tongue brushes against the seam of your mouth and your lips part wider on instinct. His tongue dives in, seeking and rolling against yours almost timidly, and you can taste the nicotine, the whiskey, and the remnant minty taste of his toothpaste.

When a soft moan is torn from your throat, his hand squeezes your hip and his fingers brush through your hair before he grips the nape of your neck, holding you in place when he pulls back, breaking the first kiss you shared.

Your breaths mingle, hot and panting, as you gaze at each other with half-lidded eyes. His heart is thudding harshly against his chest, feeling it clearly beneath your palm, though it matches your own rapid heartbeat.

“...’m sorry, bunny,” Ghost says eventually, his voice rough and husky, his lips still brushing yours as he speaks, “I just... couldn’t keep ignoring that bloody mistletoe.”

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #soap #tf 141 #john mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod:mw #reader insert #cod advent calendar 2024

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coralinnii · 10 months ago

Note

Hi! I saw that you were opening your requests for the next day or so to celebrate getting 2.7k followers! First off, I wanna say congratulations, and may you have a good day/night (almost wrote 'not' lol)!

Anyways, I read your rules, and wondered if I could get a fic with Leona, Vil, Malleus, and Lilia being in a relationship with a Venti! Reader? Essentially, Venti is a Genshin Impact character who plays the lyre, controls the wind, and has a playful personality.

‧₊˚✧ As Free as the Wind ‧₊˚✧

↳ Twst guys with a Venti!reader

feat: Leona ❋ Vil ❋ Malleus ❋ Lilia genre: humor, mild fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, Venti!reader is of legal age to drink, no spoilers regarding the Genshin Impact storyline, minor spoilers for TWST Book 7

Thank you reading my rules, always appreciate the extra effort people make! I deeply apologize for how late I am with this, but I hope you enjoy the post. Hopefully I captured Venti's personality well enough >_<'

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Ooff, did he first thought you were a pain in his tail.

Loud, cheeky, no fear of disturbing anyone for entertainment or favors… at least Ruggie has the decency to be useful.

He scoffed when you smile and act as if he can’t sense a dangerous well of power within you, the playful persona you present may fool a common man but not Leona.

He’ll play your game though. There’s no benefit to him to pry into your secrets. He finds this side of you, the one that would play a soft ballad for him for some booze money, much easier to deal with.

This is a strange relationship, but Leona can respect someone strong and most of all, doesn't tell him what to do. You believe in free will and freedom above else, which Leona appreciates.

“The concept of one king ruling over all... I can’t say I’m too interested in a land like that.”

Leona laughed at your boldness. With you, there’s no sense about stuffy responsibilities and obligations.

There are sweet days where you and Leona would spend the day in the greenhouse, Leona sleeping soundly as you play your lyre while humming your new poems, the wind carrying your melodic voice.

“Huh, do you have a song for me? Hah, what do you want from me this time? Fine, I’ll let you play.”

Vil immediately clocked something powerful about you, your nonchalant persona is good, but you cannot fool a seasoned actor like him.

No matter, though. Vil has no interest in delving into someone’s past like that. Vil assumes that if you must act so easy-going yet private about yourself, then he won’t pry into such things. One must have reasons, he supposed.

However, Vil cannot let go of your pension for the “occasional” drink or two. Vil doesn’t care that you are older than your appearance suggest, alcohol impacts your body and health as you age so he rather you limit that little habit of yours.

“Come now, Vil. Another bottle wouldn’t hurt~”

“Hmmph, you don’t have to worry much about yourself when you’re drunk but I most certainly do, especially when you come to me reeking of wine.”

But you always managed to quell his anger by singing ballads and poems about your wonderful beloved Vil. That always lifts the Housewarden’s mood and you end up with a mere reprimanding. Hehe.

Vil will not, however, forgive you so easily if you get too mischievous with him. The beautiful man can respect your talent with wind and currents, but he doesn’t appreciate the gust you would conjure up if it messes up Vil’s appearance too much.

“Don’t even think about running away from me. I know you were behind the sudden rush of wind, my mischievous one. Acting cute or sweet words is not going to work this time.”

However youthful you may appear, Malleus can sense an old soul within you which feels familiar and powerful.

Malleus is often surprised by you, for your playful and bold nature while handling the wild winds as skillfully as you hold the lyre. You bear similarities to a certain someone that he can’t help but respect you and hold you to a higher regard than any typical being.

Malleus doesn’t hate that easygoing personality of yours. On the contrary, he enjoys that spontaneous side of yours as you suggest the strangest of ideas to a powerful figure such as him.

“Let's go jumping in puddles and see who can make the biggest splash!“

You are a sociable being, making friends so easily that it baffles the young fae. A few cute words from you and it was suddenly so easy to lower one’s guard around you.

However, when you’re alone and don’t realize his presence, Malleus catches that gleam of loneliness in your eyes as you gaze from your tall resting spot. A look that Malleus feels a kinship with you in that regard.

”You would like to take a stroll with me tonight? Oh, a race in the sky, you say? Very well, but don't be conceited enough to believe I’m so easily bested.”

Dear Sevens, why would you ever let these two chaotic gremlins be in the same vicinity? Do you know no mercy for others?

The two of you would hit it off so well, it’s almost concerning. Lilia finds you a delight to be around, almost a kindred spirit even.

“So, you also took care of a dragon long ago.”

“Yeap, but he sorta became a nation-wide threat when I decided to leave and go off on my own.”

“Ah yes, those things do tend to happen.”

(if you can’t tell who’s saying what, that really speaks to how similar a coincidence that was)

Jamming sessions ALL. THE. TIME. The campus has not known a single moment of rest as you display your musical talents in the courtyard while Lilia encourages you all the way, occasionally playing along with an instrument of his own.

Lilia is fascinated by your lyrical retellings of your world and would love to visit this kingdom that values freedom among all else, and of this dandelion wine you speak so lovingly about.

As a man with his own… history, Lilia isn’t the type to ask too much about you if he sees you dodging the question. He can recognize that familiar look of longing and loss, so Lilia doesn’t press further and instead indulge with you in one more glass of bittersweet wine.

“What tales do you have to regale for tonight? I’m always captivated by these grand adventures of yours, it’s almost tempting for this old soul of mine, hehe.”

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