Orphic Series Masterlist

orphic series masterlist

Na’vi!Colonel Quaritch x Fem Na’vi!Reader

lil summary: idk you’re a lone Na’vi out and about when boom! suddenly a blue dilf is on your ass (except minus him actually being a dad because sp*der makes me cringe)

“I told you this would work.”

“Please stop kicking me.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying.”

“It’s gotta be the food.”

“Like music to my ears.”

“He just had to touch it.”

…

A Hipótese do Amor - Ali Hazelwood

Descrição do livro

Quando um namoro de mentira entre cientistas encontra a irresistível força da atração, todas as teorias cuidadosamente calculadas sobre o amor são postas à prova.

Com personagens cativantes e diálogos afiados, este livro engraçado, sexy e inteligente se tornou uma das grandes sensações do TikTok.

Olive Smith, aluna do doutorado em Biologia da Universidade Stanford, acredita na ciência – não em algo incontrolável como o amor. Depois de sair algumas vezes com Jeremy, ela percebe que sua melhor amiga gosta dele e decide juntá-los. Para mostrar que está feliz com essa escolha, Olive precisa ser convincente: afinal, cientistas exigem provas.

Sem muitas opções, ela resolve inventar um namoro de mentira e, num momento de pânico, beija o primeiro homem que vê pela frente. O problema é que esse homem é Adam Carlsen, um jovem professor de prestígio – conhecido por levar os alunos às lágrimas. Por isso, Olive fica chocada quando o tirano dos laboratórios concorda em levar adiante a farsa e fingir ser seu namorado.

De repente, seu pequeno experimento parece perigosamente próximo da combustão e aquela pequena possibilidade científica, que era apenas uma hipótese sobre o amor, transforma-se em algo totalmente inesperado.

|✦| +18

l📚l pdf

l📚l epub

Bad Ideas

Simon 'Ghost' Riley X GN!Reader Word count: 2000± Warning: Profanity, ankle injury Summary: Now, you're the one taking him out on a date.

A/N: So, I don't think I would ever write smut and that seems to be what people were expecting by the end of the last one (which is open to your own interpretation), but what I can provide is hopefully some cute shits happening some time after that.

“No,” you sighed. “Now that I’m here, I realise that this is a bad idea, Simon.”

“You took me here, Y/N,” Simon recalled.

“I know, but our opponents are likely teenagers or some weird, gamer guys with noodle arms and you’re a one man army who’s trained to shoot,” you reasoned.

“They have their practice in PUBG, we’re very much even,” Simon said.

It was a good idea at first. Maybe instead of him taking you on another date, you suggested that you should be the one taking him on the date.

For some reason, indoor paintball sounded like another good idea at that time. Which was why you both were here. For paintball.

It had been another few months since your latest, very lovely encounter with Simon. Last time, he spent a night in your flat and you delivered him back to his the next morning. Well, noon. There was a lot of delay.

Later that same day, Simon knocked on your door again and informed you that he was leaving for work, again. That was when you told him that you wanted to be the one taking him on a date instead of him taking you on another date in spite of him insisting that he was the one owing you a date.

Of course, upon his arrival home last night, Simon knocked on your door and you woke up on the same bed by the morning like last time. 

Today, being another Saturday, a few days after his arrival home, you finally executed your plan. It was a good idea after all. At the time. Up until this point. Until you changed your mind a few seconds ago.

“When we’re in the field, you do everything I say, alright? As long as you do that, I’ll keep you alive and I have your back,” Simon said.

“You can literally obliterate them in five seconds,” you pointed out.

“No,” Simon denied. “I’ll only need three seconds.”

Simon made sure that your goggles were secured whilst you looked at him in disbelief.

“This is a bad idea,” you said again.

“This is your idea,” Simon said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I don’t know, like… everything goes awry and you’ll hate me to a point that you’d rather move out of your flat and we’ll never see each other again,” you said.

Simon let out a light chuckle, something you did not remember ever hearing before. There was something serene and satisfying about his laugh and who knew someone’s breathy, hitched, somewhat low voice could be like that.

“No,” Simon said, putting a hand on the side of your face. “The worst that could happen is you spraining your ankle or face planting on the ground. Maybe getting a few bruises. Of course, there are cases where—”

“Okay,” you cut off. “I get it.”

“Good,” Simon nodded.

Fast forward approximately twenty minutes later, you were in the field full of people screaming and yelling and a referee who was laughing their ass off.

Earlier, when Simon heard the other team—that happened to be a team of three and you were stuck going two against three for some reason—being very tactical, he decided that he should do the same though not as loud. He did that on purpose, saying everything in military terms and watched you struggle to understand half the things he was saying.

Simon, being very capable of obliterating your opponent in three seconds, decided that he wanted you to celebrate this… not so bad of an idea for a date. Most of the time, he was fishing the enemies out and had you take the killing shot. Well, until they took you out and Simon literally took out the remaining opponents in three seconds.

As you were about to get out of the field when it happened. The worst. Somehow, in a brief second, you tripped. Simon was ready to catch you, but alas he was too far behind you by inches.

As a result, you fell face forward on the ground.

In any instance, should any fall happen in any place where there was at least another person around, the damage would be more on the mental side than the physical. However, in spite of the embarrassment, the pain you felt on your ankle was felt impeccably.

“You alright, love?” Simon casually asked once he was kneeling next to you, helping you get up to sit at least.

Looking at him, though, you could see his eyes lighting up.

“I—my… Simon, the fucking worst just happened to me,” you replied. “And you think it's funny.”

“I don't," Simon said, but not really convincing you of his denial. "Where does it hurt?”

“My ankle,” you answered.

Simon scooted over to your feet level. Carefully, he put his hand on your ankle, but accidentally pressed too hard on it and triggered a yelp from you.

By then, a few people had passed along and you tried to serve them an awkward smile.

“Alright, you’re not walking on that,” Simon stated.

“What am I—”

“I’ll find something to wrap it up with, you wait here,” Simon proceeded before walking off.

Simon returned fairly soon after that with a roll of bandage. He sat on the level of your foot and looked at you in a questioning manner.

“What am I supposed to do?” you asked.

“Let me take your shoe and sock off and patch you up,” Simon said.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Are you sure?”

“I got my training, love,” Simon said as he started getting to work.

Even in a dire time, the way he addressed you like that still got your stomach churning.

As Simon wrapped your ankle with a bandage, you removed your gear and collected your shoe. Once he was done, Simon looked at you and you could feel his smile teasing you from behind that mask.

“It’ll get better,” Simon said. “Let’s get you home and get lazy."

“Sure,” you sighed, "Nurse Ghost."

Simon helped you to your feet. However, as soon as that happened, he swept you off your feet and carried you up.

“This is unnecessary,” you chuckled. “This is a bad idea.”

“This is you getting nursed,” Simon insisted.

Initially, you planned to take him somewhere else after this, but now that disaster happened, the two of you ended up getting on a cab to get back to your flat.

In the middle of the way, Simon put an arm around your shoulders. There was something about the way he held you that made you feel somewhat secured.

“I’m sorry this turned out disastrous,” you said, still somewhat embarrassed, but also felt quite alright now that Simon was still here.

“You did pretty well, actually,” Simon said. “If you pursue it, you could participate in a sniper competition with Soap in a few years.”

“Soap’s a sniper?” you questioned.

“He didn’t say?” Simon replied.

You shook your head. Simon only looked at you and patted you on the shoulder.

“I was gonna take you for ice cream,” you continued.

“You see the sky’s cloudy, right?” Simon replied.

“Even if it’s raining, I would’ve taken you there. They have hot chocolate,” you smiled. “With marshmallows.”

Simon said nothing, but you felt his smile again. Who knew if he was actually smiling, but it felt like he was. Maybe it was simply the tenderness in his eyes.

“We could have those at home,” Simon said. “Maybe watch something with ice on your ankle.”

“Am I reading this wrong or are you inviting me to cuddle?” you asked.

Not saying anything, Simon looked out the window.

When you both arrived, Simon helped you get out of the car and walked you both into the building. It took sometime, but soon enough you reached your floor.

Once you got off the lift, Simon picked you up and put you on his back like a backpack.

“What are you doing? I walked fine earlier,” you chuckled.

“Putting too much pressure on your injury is not a good idea,” Simon put out an open palm. “Key.”

“No,” you said.

Simon proceeded to walk towards his flat.

“Wow,” you said in disbelief.

Once inside, Simon sat you down on the sofa. He stretched your injured leg and made sure it was comfortable with a stack of cushions underneath it. After that, he hunched down on the backrest to level with your face, sort of peeping on it. He put his chin on his knuckles.

“What flavour ice cream do you want?” Simon asked.

“No,” you chuckled. “It should’ve been me asking you that.”

“I’ll guess, then,” Simon stood up.

Simon only looked at you. It seemed that there were a few thoughts going in his mind.

“What do you need?” Simon asked.

“I mean, you said ice for my ankle,” you answered. “But, I can get that myself, just a few doors away.”

“No,” Simon said. “I’ll get it. What else do you need?”

“The rest of the weekend with you?” you answered.

“Copy,” Simon said. “Give me ten minutes.”

Before he left your flat, he kissed you on the forehead through his mask.

If you were allowed to scream without getting any consequences, it would be really nice. It was probably either screaming or squealing. Maybe both.

He was so lovely and cute. Maybe Simon was too tough to actually admit that he was inviting you to cuddle, but the way he went around it was as admirable.

When Simon returned, he had a bag of ice and quite a number of snacks that he laid on the coffee table. He took the ice and moved next to your leg.

“You might want to get the ice cream first before they melt,” Simon said as he unwrapped the bandage from your foot.

“Simon—”

Simon cut you off by shushing you. He was not even looking at you.

So, you reached to get the ice cream. It was surprising that he got two tubs of your favourite ice cream flavour. 

“You might want to put one of these in your freezer,” you suggested.

“That’s where I put my heart,” Simon said as he was putting the ice on your foot, but before you could comment on his latest statement he said, “It’s not swelling too bad. Should be improving in a few days. Don’t walk on it.”

You handed him one of the two ice cream tubs.

“Thank you,” you said.

“I've done nothing yet,” Simon sighed before walking off for a moment.

Simon returned with two spoons and a mug. He joined you on the sofa, setting up his telly. You scooped half of the ice cream into the mug before presenting the two options to Simon. He took the mug.

By then, you were snuggled against him and whatever film Simon put on was starting.

“Nice way to end the day, don’t you think?” Simon asked.

“It’s 2 pm, Simon,” you said.

Simon lifted his mask to his nose. You looked at him and he delivered a kiss to your lips right away.

“What are we watching?” you asked, resting your temple on his chest.

“Something Soap recommended. He said it’s from a book,” Simon said. “Said something about Nicholas Sparks.”

“Oh, Simon,” you hummed, lightly chuckling. “Do I need to get worried that I might be ruining your relationship with him?”

“Let’s see how this goes and I’ll answer that by the end of this film,” Simon sighed.

Your light chuckle made Simon look at you.

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” Simon stated.

“The paintball was a bad idea, but this is not,” you stated.

“Just so you know, it was not a bad idea,” Simon said. “If the worst didn’t happen, I would’ve proposed for another game.”

A smile bloomed on your face.

Before actually investing in the film while eating ice cream, Simon kissed you on the temple.

Would it be a good idea to spend the rest of the weekend like this? Simon definitely did think so. Besides, it was his birthday weekend, he should treat himself a little.

However, of course, you had no idea that today was his birthday. Simon was tempted on telling you, but he did not care if you knew or not. He felt celebrated and that was enough for him.

@pasta-m1lk @cutiecusp

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Another One

Simon 'Ghost' Riley X GN!Reader Word count: 3100± Warning: Profanity, loud neighbour Summary: Simon feels like surprising his friends, so he asked you to be his date to a military ball.

There was just something about Simon bothering you in the middle of the night that seemed conveniently suiting. It was a pleasant surprise. Especially whilst you could not sleep because your newly moved in neighbour was being loud.

After the last time when you kissed him—by kissing your fingers and pressing them on his mask—he had not been making any contact with you. You had not seen him.

Simon texted you just now, the middle of the night, a couple of months after his last appearance. He texted you three words; Fancy a walk?

Getting up from your bed, you started replying to his message; Sleepwalking, yes.

Less than a minute later, you were by your door and looked through the peephole. Simon was there. Opening your door, you stood face to face with Simon immediately.

The two of you only looked at each other for a moment. In the background, your neighbour’s voice could be heard.

“You’re sleeping with eyes open?” Simon asked.

You put a finger on your lips, shushing him as you closed your door.

“Don’t wake me up,” you warned.

Simon let out an amused hum, making you smile at him as you both started walking towards the lift.

Instead of down, Simon brought the lift up. Once getting to the highest floor the lift could get you, the two of you walked up the stairs and out to the roof.

The cold night’s wind brushed through your skin right away. The sky was not exactly blank, but not much to see either.

Simon leaned his forearms by the railings when you two got there. You leaned your back against it next to him.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked.

“I’m surprised you can even try with that oldman living next to you,” Simon answered.

“Oh, he’s dead when you’re away and someone else is living there. It’s his grandson. I think he’s living with a couple of roommates,” you informed.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon sighed.

“Yeah. Horrible,” you nodded. “Hope you’re not here if one day he’s throwing a frat party or something.”

“This building is getting ridiculous,” Simon commented.

“To be fair, the landlord let you, a constantly mask wearing man, live here,” you replied.

“Our landlord was my drill sergeant,” Simon informed.

“Really? I don’t even know he’s a veteran,” you said.

“You think any other person would let me live like this?” Simon questioned.

“I don’t know. You can threaten him or something. Or have your superior get you this place,” you shrugged.

“No,” Simon said.

There came a pause.

“I have another favour to ask, Y/N,” Simon stated.

Looking down, you held back a smile, hoping he would owe you another date after this one.

“Okay,” you said. “What is it?”

“I have a work event. A formal work event. My friends are… thinking that I won’t be going, but I thought it’d be funny if I do and bring another person with me,” Simon said.

You looked at him. Simon was slowly turning towards you.

“What is this… formal work event?” you asked.

“Just a social event. You’ll need a formal dress or a suit, whichever you prefer,” Simon answered.

You could not hold back your smile.

“It’s a ball,” Simon added.

“Sounds not like a thing you would go to,” you brought up.

Simon said nothing, but kept his eyes on you.

“Okay,” you said. “Tell me when.”

“This Saturday,” Simon instantly stated.

“You sound excited,” you teased.

“Let’s get back in, shall we?” Simon sighed.

“You brought me up here just for that?” you asked.

“What else would I bring you up here for?” Simon questioned.

“To freeze to death, maybe,” you shrugged.

“You cold?” Simon asked.

“A bit, yeah,” you answered.

“Let’s get back in, then,” Simon said.

You raised an eyebrow at him, hoping he would wrap an arm around you or something. He only looked at you in return. After some time, you turned around and leaned your forearms on the railings to match his position.

“See, you don’t even wanna get back in,” you pointed out.

“I’m not looking forward to a sleepless night with that fucking college student loudly playing video games,” Simon stated.

“Oh, you’re lucky he’s just playing video games tonight. Sometimes he would bring a guy over and they would—”

“I think I get the idea,” Simon cut off.

You chuckled.

“On second thought. Maybe we should deliver him another noise complaint,” Simon continued.

“I already did. He doesn’t care,” you said.

“Well, he hasn’t seen me, has he?” Simon questioned.

Thinking it was a good idea, the two of you started making your way back down. As you descended in the lift, you planned your act.

If this person did not care about you complaining about him being loud, maybe adding Simon would change his mind. If not, then, only God could help him from Ghost.

Once you arrived in front of said neighbour’s door—whose loud laughing with his roommates could be heard all across the hallway—you knocked on it. It seemed that no one heard your knock at first, which was what happened last time, too, so you knocked again.

This time, you had a response from the person living in the flat, cracking the door open and looking at you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted.

“I’m just delivering our neighbour,” you stepped aside and revealed Simon.

The young man widened his eyes as he tilted his head up to look at Simon.

“Get out of there, mate,” Simon said. “I’m just here for a friendly chat.”

“Um… okay,” the shorter man opened his door and stepped forwards hesitantly, he looked much paler once he heard Simon’s voice. “You alright, mate?”

“Not exactly,” Simon stepped forwards, making you step aside from the two. “I live across from you and I’m planning to sleep soundly, but you seem to interfere with said plan. Lucky for you, Y/N talked me out of kicking your door down and ripping your throat, so you better turn your fucking noise down or I will do so and make it look like an accident.”

At first, the young man looked out of words. He was gapping.

“We’ll keep it down,” the younger man spelled.

“Good,” Simon nodded. “You do that.”

“I will,” the other one said.

Simon patted him on the shoulder, making him wince. 

“What’s your name?” Simon asked.

“Peter.”

“Peter,” Simon repeated. “I’m Ghost.”

Peter looked at you, genuinely intimidated. You only shrugged at him.

“I promise, you won’t hear a thing,” Peter insisted.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be this late in the night,” Simon nodded. “Now, go tell your friends that.”

“Alri—alright. I’m sorry,” Peter stammered before he went in and locked his door.

You and Simon looked at each other immediately. You chuckled lightly, seeing his eyes shifting slightly, showing his amusement.

“Thank you, Simon,” you said.

“It’s alright, love,” Simon said.

There was warmth blooming in your stomach when he said that. It could be the words or the way he said it.

“Well, go have your sound sleep, then,” you replied.

“You, too,” Simon said.

“I’ll see you around?” you said.

“Saturday,” Simon reminded.

“Saturday,” you repeated. “Goodnight, Simon.”

Simon responded with a nod. He waited until you got into your flat before leaving the area.

Eventually, another Saturday came that you would spend with him.

If you tried dressing up last time, you tried even harder this time. It was quite a leap from going on a date with your neighbour because you helped him fix his mask to going to a military ball with your neighbour because he felt like surprising his friends.

Simon himself was making sure that the uniform he would be wearing was flawless. He paid to get his uniform cleaned, he cleaned his pins and badges, he made sure his shoes were not covered in dust. Or blood. He tried not to wonder too much on how he managed to get blood onto his formal shoes.

When the time came, what surprised him was that Simon was more nervous about what you would look like than about how he would look like himself. He was nervous about what you would look like and what that might do to him.

When you opened the door, seeing Simon in full uniform—though still with his mask and skeleton gloves—was oddly the most dashing thing you had ever laid eyes on. You thought it would do nothing to you seeing that it would just be a skull man in a uniform, but he carried himself differently in this uniform.

The way Simon stood was different, the way he walked. Maybe in his field uniform he would carry himself differently, too. With a gun. Maybe a knife.

Even the way he looked at you was different. Simon looked more… relaxed somehow.

“Something on my face?” Simon asked.

“No, it’s… I’ve never seen you like this before,” you answered. “You look… great.”

“You should say that to yourself,” Simon said.

A moment passed that was contained with just you and Simon looking at each other before looking away, flustered.

“Shall we?” Simon proceeded, offering a hand to you.

Hesitantly at first, you took his hand and let him lead you both outside.

You both took a cab to the venue. Neither of you said anything on the way, really, but the way Simon hardly let go of your hand said enough. Whatever that meant.

Upon your arrival, immediately you noticed that people were looking in your direction. You looked down at your outfit, hoping that there was nothing wrong with it. Maybe there was something in your face?

No, they were definitely looking at Simon, right? He said it himself, he never really had gone into this sort of event.

When ignoring the looks got unbearable, you clutched into his arm a little tighter and leaned towards Simon a little.

“Do people stare at you this much?” you asked.

“They’re staring at you,” Simon answered. “No one wants to make eye contact with me.”

“No, they’re staring at you,” you insisted.

“Every time I look at these people, they’re still looking in my direction. That means they’re looking at you. If they were looking at me, they would’ve looked away immediately,” Simon explained.

“Ridiculous,” you chuckled.

Not far from there, Simon brought you towards a corner of the venue where there was a group of people making a messy circle. One of them happened to be a man with a mohawk.

At the moment, none of them were looking in your direction. So, when Simon joined the circle with you, they were shocked. Then, one of them let out a chuckle, an older man.

“LT!” the man with the mohawk greeted excitedly. “You’re here!”

“Johnny,” Simon replied.

You looked at Simon who gave you a little confirming nod.

“Are you the neighbour?” Soap asked.

“I supposed I am. Y/N should be enough,” you replied.

“Y/N… call me Soap,” he said.

“Simon constantly talked about you,” you stated.

“That’s not true,” Simon stated, turning you a little to the side. “This is my captain, John Price.”

“Glad to see there’s someone who gets to make Simon take a little bit of a risk,” the older man said.

“I’m sure he’s taking a lot of risk in this line of work,” you chuckled.

“He’s the smart one of the group,” the captain nodded.

“Yeah, he ghost to school,” Soap nodded.

Faintly, behind your chuckle, you heard Simon sighing, “Fuckin’ hell.”

“We didn’t have much hope that he’s going to be here at all and here he is with a date,” Soap said. “Speaking of dates—”

“Soap,” Simon cut off with a warning tone.

“Alright,” Soap opened his hands in surrender.Despite that, Soap and you exchanged a knowing smile with a hint of amusement.

The evening went on. In the beginning, you spent some time with Simon and his friends. It was an eye opening experience to see how these people treated Simon. 

Afterwards, you were moved to a table with said people with an addition of another sergeant called Gaz.

There was a ceremony. Dinner was right after.

Eventually, the event continued to a point that everyone moved on to the floor with their partners as the music started playing. The captain had stealthily moved away from everyone by then.

“Pretty sure I saw that sergeant with a pretty face. I’ll go that way,” Soap announced. “Big smile, LT.”

Soap’s laugh delivered his leave.

Now, only Simon and yourself were left where you stood. Smiling, you looked at Simon and found him already looking at you.

“He’s very nice,” you commented.

“I wish he wasn’t,” Simon sighed.

“I’m learning so much about you from him,” you said.

Simon only let out a hum.

A few songs later, the music turned into something slow and calm rather than the festive and loud ones. A lot of people were getting tipsy already.

It was both surprising and not surprising at the same time how much military personnels drink alcohol. Especially ones in active duty.

Simon decided that it was time that he stood up, hearing the shift of the music.

“Well, may I have this dance, then, Y/N?” Simon finally asked.

Simon had offered a hand to you.

“Please,” you smiled, taking his hand.

Once he held your hand, Simon pulled you to the dance floor. Blending in the dance floor, he gently positioned his hand on your waist whilst the other held your hand. You put your hands accordingly.

It could be how close you stood to Simon, but you felt the nerves again, the same one you felt when you noticed that people were looking at you. You kept reminding yourself that they were looking at Simon because they definitely were.

It was just now after spending some time with Simon’s friends that you noticed that these people were not looking at him in ways that you thought they were. They were curious, indeed, but there was a lot of respect in their gaze. It might even be the first time some of these people had ever seen Simon in person.

“Did I tell you you look nice?” Simon asked.

“It’s implied,” you answered, avoiding his gaze somewhat.

“You look gorgeous,” Simon said.

“You even more,” you said.

When you looked back at him, Simon brought your hand up to his face and gently pressed it against the mouth area of his mask. An oddly satisfying feeling came through as you felt his lips smooching the back of your hand through his mask.

The smile on your face grew out of control.

“You’re even more gorgeous when you smile,” Simon added.

“You need to stop,” you said, smiling even wider out of control.

“Or what?” Simon challenged.

Not giving him an answer, you only looked down.

“I’m sorry this is not as nice as you might’ve thought,” Simon said.

“No, it’s nice,” you said. “It’s an honour that you invite me to such an event.”

“I’ll take you somewhere nice next time,” Simon stated.

“Next time?” you repeated.

“I owe you another one for this,” Simon replied.

“What if I don’t want you to owe me anything for this one?” you replied.

“It’s not your call,” Simon said.

“If you insist, lieutenant, then, I’ll look forward to it,” you said.

Simon said nothing, but again he brought your hand to his lips and pressed his masked lips to the back of your hand. You felt yourself getting closer to him, keeping quite an eye contact.

You and Simon were there, gently rocking side to side as if there was no one around you and clearly as if no one was looking at you. Simon knew the consequences would be that people were going to talk about him more and in ways that they had never talked of him before.

Johnny, especially. He already had one thing to blackmail him and he hoped that by this he could counter that blackmail.

At the end of the night, Simon took you to leave quite early. His captain, Captain Price, kindly hitched you both a ride. He drove very carefully as the three of you filled your time with friendly conversations.

Once you arrived by your building, after thanking the captain, you and Simon made your way inside. Then, you got into the lift, out your floor.

One step into your floor and you both could hear that noisy neighbour again. Exchanging an exhausted look with Simon, you both rushed towards said neighbour’s door.

Simon looked like he was ready to kick the door down, but you put your hand on his chest, stopping him from doing so. For some time, he only looked at you as if he was planning to do a lot of things. One thing in particular.

Getting the better part of himself to take over, Simon pounded his fist against the door a couple of times. The flat went silent out of a sudden. Seconds passed before the door opened.

“I swear to fucking God, Peter,” Simon said. “Don’t make me kick you out of your fucking flat through the window.”

“I—I’m sorry. I saw you leave earlier so—”

“Not a fucking excuse, you fucking twat!” Simon cut off, stepping towards the younger man.

“Simon,” you gently called in a warning tone.

Simon looked back at you.

“Even if I’m not around, you better keep your noise down, Peter, or I will gun your fucking head down,” Simon pointed.

Peter opened his hands in surrender.

“Won’t happen again,” he said, eyeing you and Simon back to back. “Are you two together?”

“Keep your fucking noise down,” Simon said, shoving Peter back into his flat and shut the door.

Simon and you looked at each other immediately. You gave him a smile.

“Goodnight, Simon. Thank you for the invite. It was fun,” you said.

“You, too,” Simon nodded.

Again, you kissed the tips of your finger and pressed it on the mouth area of his mask.

“No, I don’t want that,” Simon said.

You raised an eyebrow at him, slightly tilting your head, and ignoring the hastening of your heartbeat.

Moving quickly, Simon untucked his mask from the collar of his uniform with his thumb as his other hand reached for your face. He led your face closer to him as he lifted his mask to his nose and latched your lips together.

It was brief and it was almost too quick, but it happened. When you looked at him again, Simon had already dropped his mask back down.

“Goodnight, love,” Simon said.

Only when Simon stepped away did you finally find your words back.

“Simon,” you called.

Simon looked back towards you.

“You wanna stay the night over?” you offered.

“I literally live here,” Simon said.

“Do you want to?” you continued.

Simon slowly walked his way back to you and your smile slowly grew as he got closer.

“Alright,” Simon decided before leaning into your ear. “Mask stays on, no matter what.”

Smiling, you pecked him on the mask before bringing him into your flat.

Part 1 Part 2

SEVENTH HEAVEN

♱ ‧₊˚ ࿓ pro-hero!shouto todoroki x f!reader. nsfw — mdni. service dom!shouto / pre-established relationship / dubcon [ reader under effects of lust quirk ] / pillow humping / lotsa spit + drool >u< / oral [ m -> f ] + snowballing / quirk play [ temp. play + branding ] / cervix fucking / creampie ♡ cum stuffing ♡ / overstim / squirting / rework + repost from old blog. 5.1k wc ⊹ masterlist

shouto todoroki is driving the worst he thinks he has in his entire life. it's reckless— the way he's running red lights and stop signs, abusing the horn of his car, going nearly 25 mph over the posted speed limit while muttering profanities under his breath. it’s a bad look for a pro-hero of his calibre, but frankly, he doesn’t have it within himself to care— especially after the phone call you had given him not ten minutes prior.

your voice plays in his head as he thinks back to the shakiness of it, desperation obvious in its breathlessness, ‘shou, can you come home— please come home? r-really need you here...’

you had hung up before he could even open his mouth to ask you what the matter was, and it wasn’t much longer after that when he’d abandoned the lunch you packed for him this morning, leaving it sitting on the desk in his office while he rushed to his car— which is where is now— avoiding crashing and causing collisions as he tries to make it back home to you as fast as he can.

worry settles in his chest as he flits through all the possible worst-case scenarios he can think of. had someone broken in? perhaps it was a villain with a personal vendetta against him— or just a regular thief… no, it couldn’t have been; the house’s security system was far too strong for a low-life criminal to be able to break through.

whatever it may be, shouto mentally prepares himself to face what’s on the other side of the front door when he arrives in record time— 15 minutes from the heart of the city to the gated neighbourhood in the suburbs where the two of you reside in a house you always complained was too large for just the two of you.

the harsh friction of rubber on pavement screeches loudly as he pulls into the driveway, disregarding his poor parking job before making a beeline for the front door. he inhales deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves and the frenzied voice in his head before shakily punching the four-digit code into the padlock. throwing the door open, shouto rushes in, eyes darting around the space of your home to look for you and any signs of disturbance.

everything seems to be in place in the living room— the photos of you and him and your mutual friends on the fireplace mantel, the empty sake bottles and deck of cards on the coffee table from saturday night’s drinking escapade, the bouquet of burgundy roses he had placed on the closed lid of the grand piano for you to find— nothing had moved an inch from where it was this morning when you sent him off to work with his lunch and a goodbye kiss to the collar of his hero costume, the lip stain is still easily visible against the dark fabric.

he continues his inspection of the first floor, making thorough work of the kitchen and powder room before skipping every other step as he hurries up the spiral staircase. stopping at the top, he looks both ways— snapping his head towards your shared bedroom from where he hears muffled whimpers.

“honey?” no response. he feels his heartbeat audibly in his head and fear settle in his bones when your sounds only increase in volume as he nears, his right hand covered in frost in preparation to confront the situation behind the closed door, “honey, are you alright?”

“shou…”

his eyes widen at the break in your voice, all sense of precaution flying out the window when he runs towards your room and flings the door open.

shouto doesn't know exactly what he's expecting to be welcomed with when he barges in— perhaps it's dark red painting mulberry silk sheets, his lover bloodied and beaten and on the brink of death, perhaps you're tied up in the chair with a gag in your mouth being held at gunpoint. his blood boils with a mix of rage and fear at the thought.

whatever it may be, it's the last thing shouto expects— something that doesn't even cross his mind— that greets him.

you're curled up and writhing on the bed, sheets ruffled from your incessant tossing and turning, and there's nothing adorning your frame except his white dress shirt bunching up at the curve of your hips.

your boyfriend stands breathless and dumbfounded at the doorway as he tries to make sense of your current state, but is quickly knocked out of his thoughts when another whimper of his name pushes past you, “baby, what happened?” shouto rushes over to your side and raises his hand to cup your cheek soothingly, only to slightly retract it from how abnormally warm you are to his touch, “you’re heating up…”

“i, hah— lust quirk… someone accidentally hit me with it…” you whine out through little gasps for air, and suddenly his attention is averted to the pillow you have in between your legs— his pillow, and shouto feels a blush start to cover his face when he catches sight of your bare cunt grinding along it.

he finds himself in a trance— cool palm stuck to your heated cheek as his gaze travels up and down your body: from your parted lips to the labored rise and fall of your chest and all the way down to the wet patch on the pillow in between your plush thighs that only seems to be getting larger with each passing second.

he’s heard of lust quirks before— heard of their side effects: increased stamina, more intense orgasms— he’s also heard cheeky remarks from his friends about how they wished their lovers had them. shouto would be lying if he said he hadn't given any thought to how either you or he would be affected by it; sex with you is always amazing, always has him feeling like he's in seventh heaven, but he can't help but dream about how it'd feel even better under the effect of a lust quirk.

with your whiny panting, glazed-over eyes and arched back as you try to get off on his pillow— shouto doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this needy when he hasn’t laid a finger over your most sensitive parts yet. it has the initial worry dissipating from his blood to be quickly replaced with a burning desire as he toes off his boots and leaves them at the foot of the bed before climbing onto it to hover over you.

he has a hard time staving off the growing ache of his cock and the lust evident in his gaze as he stares down at you squirming against the cool sheets, hips rutting against the pillow and sweet, needy cries falling onto his ears.

blue flames rip through your limbs, head clouded with a carnality that has you short of breath and searching desperately for release— you’ve never felt this way before; you can feel your heart pounding against your skull and the throbbing of your clit in your fingertips. it’s overwhelming, and it has you impatient as your hands reach up to entangle in his two-toned hair and tug him closer, “please, please, shou— need you so bad— please—”

it shakes him out of his thoughts, the drawn-out whine of his name sending blood flooding down to his cock, “it’s okay, baby, ‘m right here. you have me…” shouto shushes you and removes the palm from your cheek to replace the pillow in between your legs with his clothed thigh, huffing out a breathless laugh when he sees your cream begin to coat the fabric, “so wet… ‘nd i haven’t even touched you yet.”

“uh huh, ‘s all for you— only you,” your thighs clench around his, a pleasured wail pushing past you at how much more friction there is with it than his pillow.

“you’re so cute when you’re this turned on…” he leans down to coo at you sweetly, brushing his nose against yours before slotting his lips in between yours.

the kiss is sloppy—lewd and filthy as spit get tossed between your mouths with little care for the way it dribbles down the corners of his lips, to his chin, to fall as fat globs onto the expanse of your chest.

a fire begins to burn in the pit of his stomach when you grind up on his thigh, and shouto can only bring himself to respond with a low moan as he sucks on your tongue. his palms travel up from your hips to cup your breasts, squeezing the soft mounds slightly before tracing his thumbs over your pebbled nipples through the fabric of the shirt you were wearing.

it belonged to him— the white dress shirt he had worn out to dinner with you last night. he wonders why you chose to reach for it, but is quick to arrive at an answer, “does this shirt smell like me?”

you shy into the large neck of the shirt, nodding meekly as your thighs rub against his upon hearing the sweet adoration lacing his voice.

“you’re— hah— so perfect,” he pulls away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting him to you as he looks down, mouth parted and eyes lidded with lust as he watches every slow roll of your hips against his thigh, muttering out an expletive when he feels your slick seep through the thick fabric of his pants to meet his bare skin. “baby, can i taste you?”

it comes out as barely a whisper— almost a plea against your lips, and the sultriness of his voice has you taking in a shaky breath and nodding your head frantically, “uh huh, wan’ you s’bad, shou…”

he leans in once more to capture your lips— softly, this time. shouto falls deeper when your grip on his hair tightens and your tongue slips into his mouth, but he pulls away just before he can drown, gently shushing your protested whines, “i know, honey, i know.”

with one final lingering kiss placed to your brow, he sits back on his haunches to roll you over onto your stomach, running his palms up the curves of your waist under his shirt you were wearing to tug it off of your frame.

you’re fully exposed to him now; he feels a lecherous heat radiating off of you and can see the thin sheen of your essence coating the insides of your plush thighs— he can smell it too— it’s smells like you, like the sugarplum sweetness he’s used to, but it’s unexpectedly strong.

unexpected, but most welcome.

it consumes his senses— has his head spinning and spit pooling at the tip of his tongue, and if anyone were to look into his eyes, they would be able to see just how dilated his pupils were, leaving little space for the grey and blue of his irises to show through. it’s almost as if your scent were casting a spell on him, and shouto can’t help but wonder whether this is an effect of the quirk you’re under.

he’s quick to remove his hero costume, leaving only his wrist guards and boxers on before clambering back on top of you to place his open mouth on the nape of your neck, evident hard-on pressing down on your ass, “jus’ let me take care of you…”

cool fingers trace down your spine, warm kisses following in their wake until they reach the dimples at the bottom of your back into which he digs his thumbs, wrapping his large hands around your hips to angle you up onto your knees. a little mumble of ‘arch your back’ followed by a quick rustle of the sheets and a subsequent ‘good girl’ has your cunt landing right in front of his face. he can see you so clearly like this, translucent slick sliding down your folds to collect on the swell of your clit.

did you always get this wet?

shouto examines your sex more closely than he thinks he ever has before, one hand leaving your hip to gently rub circles onto your nub with his thumb, slowly gliding it up and down your folds as he revels in the way your essence coats the pad of his finger in a thick glaze.

he’s teasing you— unknowingly— thumb continuing its assault on your clit while he finds himself enamoured by the way you clamp down around empty air at his ministrations. he’s shaken out of his trance by a hurried wiggle of your hips and a muffled whimper of his name reaching his ears, quickly mumbling out a chuckle of an apology before leaning in to slot his pointed nose in between your folds and suck sweetly on your nub.

the soft, warm plush of his lips on the place you needed to feel him most has you crying out, arching your chest further into the mattress and one of your arms flying back to find the grip of his hands on your hips.

you’re incredibly sweet— tooth-rottingly so, and it’s not long before tender suckles turn into harsh licks up the length of your folds as he gets drunk on your taste, his tongue finding a home within your walls to try and taste more of you.

more, more, more.

insatiable; that’s what he is, humming contently at the slick that travels across his tongue and down his throat, slurring almost incoherently against the hot, tight ring of muscle, “y’taste— fuck— so good…”

the vibrations of his baritone voice send blood rushing down to your ever-swelling clit and his words of praise do nothing to stop the tightening of the coil in the pit of your stomach.

you feel yourself floating— head in the clouds and brain fogged from how he draws hearts onto your clit and the lewd squelches of him cleaning up your drooling cunt— it all feels so good, too good, and you slide the hand you have on top of his to grasp onto his fingers in a failed attempt to keep yourself grounded.

failed, because your actions have his other hand, his right hand flying down from your hip, cool thumb flicking over your throbbing nub and slightly cooler middle and ring fingers scissoring and sheathing themselves inside you.

you kick your feet against the mattress and gasp out when he finds that one shallow, sensitive spot that lies within your gummy walls, sending the tight coil in your stomach unravelling at full tilt sooner than you had wanted it to, “shou, p-please— cumming, ‘m cumming—!”

it’s a broken, drawn-out moan, and it travels straight to shouto’s cock as he grinds his crotch down into the mattress and hums, quirking his fingers faster and replacing his thumb with his lips.

he removes himself from you when your thighs begin to shake, turning you onto your back before hovering over you to lean down and take your lips in his. you feel him smirk against you after he pushes his way into your mouth, letting your cream spill from his tongue to yours, “see how sweet you taste, baby? gonna give me a cavity…”

you can only hum and lazily smile in agreement, chest heaving as your catch your breath. looking up at his muscular frame, you reach one hand out to trace your fingers down the lines of his sinewy torso until they arrive at the elastic waistband of his boxers, gently tugging his lower half against yours as you wrap your legs around his lithe waist for leverage, “wan’ you here…” you take his hand in yours and press his palm to your abdomen, “… please?”

his chest constricts at how sweetly you beg for him, your fingers tracing shapes on the back of his hand while you look up at him with dewy, bambi eyes.

“yeah, you’ll have me, angel… i’m yours,” he hastily wipes your drying essence off his chin before leaning down to kiss you again— slowly and lovingly, running his thumb along your cheekbone to seal his promise.

you’re quick to spring into action, the both of you letting out a languid moan when you grind up along the outline of his cock, feeling the cool, sticky mess of his pre-cum seeping through the thin fabric of his boxers against your hot cunt.

shouto’s breath fans across your neck when he looks down, palming his cock briefly before pulling his boxers halfway down his thighs, shuddering at the cold air that sweeps from the open window over his leaking slit. you marvel at how it twitches against his stomach, beads of pre-cum oozing out when he pumps the length a few times and runs a finger along the large vein on the underside; you know it as his most sensitive area.

using one hand, he angles your leg higher on his waist while he uses the other to guide the head of his cock to tap your swollen clit a few times, proceeding to then slide it in between your warm folds. he thumbs at his slit, coaxing more pre-cum out from it to lubricate you further as he struggles to push his red, bulbous head past the tight ring of muscle lining your entrance.

“y-you’re so much tighter… fuck—" it comes out as a strained groan when he manages to get half an inch inside you, fingers digging almost painfully into your flesh.

you can only mewl out an apology in response and pull him in closer when your thighs tighten around his waist, a silent plea for him to fuck you.

“i know, honey, j-jus’ wait…” shouto takes a moment to draw his mind away from how your cunny sucks on his slit with every clamp down on it— knowing he would be sure to cum pre-maturely if he had spent any longer thinking about it.

with a low growl, he eases himself into your slick warmth— inch by agonizing inch— his girth brushing delicately against all the pleasure points that line your walls in a way that has your breath hitching in your throat and your hands flying up to grip onto his biceps. after what feels like an eternity, he finally sheathes his full length in you, head of his cock weighing down heavily on the sponge of your cervix.

it hurts— ever so slightly— the slow burn ripping through your core and down to your entrance, but shouto's kind enough to let you adjust to his size against what feels like your “virgin” walls. when he hears you let out a needy whimper, urging him to move, he begins to grind his hips down onto yours experimentally as he massages your cervix with his tip, groin simultaneously rubbing against your puffy nub in a way that ignites a fire in your stomach and has you writhing beneath him.

your noises are angelic— sweet, drawn-out moans of his name that ring in his head as his eyes roll back into his skull at the plush grip of your spongy walls— it has the muscles in his chest contracting and cock twitching inside of you almost frantically, in search of release.

after keeping his ministrations up for some time, he can tell you're almost to cum by how the sounds that leave your lips increase in volume and frequency, and he takes this as the perfect opportunity to pull back out of you almost fully and drive back into you with a harsh, erotic groan.

shouto stops for a moment to catch his breath, the grip of your gummy walls around him making him feel like he might cum with just another thrust alone. you’re incredibly tight, almost painfully so, and it has the fire in the pit of his stomach only burning brighter with each passing moment. he draws back and forth deep into you, knocking your cervix with every thrust as they progressively get faster and rougher.

"i- ahn, right there, right there- fuck!" your mind goes numb from how he abuses the most sensitive spot that lies within your walls, and you weakly claw at his back in search of purchase.

your words prompt shouto to hoist your legs up onto the tops of his broad shoulders, the new angle he's hitting you at making your jaw fall slack and back arch, chest pressed flush against his own as he leans down to swallow your cries, "t-that feel good, angel?”

"mhm— gonna cum—!” he knocks your cervix repeatedly, the velvety feel of his dick squishing up against it finally getting that coil in your stomach to snap loose. it sends you reeling, walls spasming around his length and your eyes squeezing shut while you ride out your wave of pleasure.

shouto thinks he’s going to cum too— he can tell by the way an unusual burst of pleasure courses through his veins and into his palms when he subconsciously heats one of them up and cools the other one down. before he can fully process his actions, the words spill out from his lips as a begging request, “can i brand you, baby?

“mhm, y-yeah—please…” your sweaty palms land on top of the backs of his hands, pressing them further into the fat that wraps around your hips, “make me yours, wanna be your pretty girl forever ‘nd ever…”

and that he does.

with a breathless proclamation of his love, he manipulates the temperatures radiating from either palm to leave a faint burn mark on your right hip and frostbite on your left while he spills inside your womb, thrusts faltering when you clamp down around his length— the pleasured pain from his quirk tumbling you into another orgasm as you cream around his cock yet again.

but it’s not enough— the mass of arousal from the lust quirk still weighs down heavily on your abdomen, and your hands find shouto’s to intertwine your fingers with his.

holding them to your chest, you lazily open your eyes and look up to meet his heterochromatic ones, sighing happily when he reaches down to kiss away the tears that spill onto your cheeks, “one more?”

his cock stirs awake from its place within your walls at your tender plea, and he raises your hand to plant his lips over each knuckle, “of course, angel… as many more times as you want; i’ll be right here,” with a final kiss placed to the inside of your calf, shouto leans forward, folding you nearly in half while he nestles his cock deeper within you— so deep you swear you can feel him in your womb.

he slowly draws his hips back and forth; this time around made a little easier from his milky seed smeared against your walls, and he calculates his thrusts so that the fat head of his cock prods that one spongy, sensitive spot that has you keening against him and your fingers holding a vice grip around his larger hands.

your silken walls are quick to pulse around his length, breathless pants picking up their pace and whines of, ‘please, please, please!’ getting higher in pitch— the sweet noises reminiscent of those that you made when you came around his length not five minutes ago.

shouto frees a hand from your grasp, moving it up to cup your face as he kisses you deeply, muffling your shaky cries with his low groans, “that’s it— let go, baby,” his voice is silky and saccharine on your lips, and it, along with a final nudge of his cock against the deepest pleasure point inside you, sends you toppling into a third orgasm— this time stronger than the past few as overstimulation settles in your bones.

you’re shaking profusely under him, body wracked with trembles— and the only thing you can bring yourself to do is mindlessly babble against his skin while you cum on his cock, “i love you, i love you, i love you—!”

“f-fuck, i love you too— s-so much,” shouto lets out a guttural groan at your proclamation, the words travelling straight to the fire in the pit of his stomach as he buries his face in your neck and spills inside your womb—creamy seed sloshing around your walls to paint them an opaque, milky white.

he jerks slightly on top of you, jolts of intense euphoria shooting through his limbs— but before he can catch his breath, shouto’s leaning down to swirl his tongue over your nipples after another meek whimper of, ‘once more?’ falls onto his heeding ears.

one more time turns into three more times turns into more times than shouto can count—it’s been nearly six hours since he’s arrived home and the sun’s begun to set now; it shines down on your body from the open windows of your bedroom and casts a warm orange glow over your skin. if shouto weren’t so focused on engraving the sloppy mess of his cum and your cream coating the base of his cock and groin into his brain, he’d be looking deep into your eyes, admiring the way they twinkle and glow a few shades lighter under the setting sun.

but he’s far too gone for that now, his hips slapping erratically against the backs of your thighs while your legs tremble atop his broad shoulders— cum gushing out of your worn pussy and dribbling down your skin to soak the bed sheets with every hasty thrust.

the air is thick with the smell of sex and lewd sounds of your shared moans as your lover makes you cum for the sixth time that day— an additional two times on his tongue and fingers.

this was too much, even for a man with his stamina— filling you up with his hot seed nearly enough times to count on both his hands— yet he can’t find it within himself to stop; not with your angelic mewls, not with the way your nails scratch red wings onto his back, not with how your wet walls suck him in— it all sends him spiralling as he chases high after high.

shouto’s convinced he’s shooting blanks inside you at this point, cock beat and overstimulated, veins protruding from his biceps as the sweaty hold he has on the headboard only gets tighter. he’s uncharacteristically talkative in this state, too— stuttering and hiccupping on words that spew from his lips almost nonsensically, “b-baby, oh, god— so s-sensitive— you’re so fuckin' beautiful— h-hah, fuck—"

he continues to rut uncontrollably into your sopping cunt, unable to think straight— but he can tell he’s almost done for. his arms are trembling from holding up his weight for the past few hours, two-toned hair wet against his forehead and sweat dripping down his body onto yours. you’re spent too— he can sense it in the way your high-pitched whines of his name turn to incoherent babbles and how your hands fall limp from his back to grip at the silk sheets.

with one last push, he slows down his thrusts, angling them so that the head of his cock fits in between the opening of your cervix, thumb tiredly massaging circles into your near numb clit as you fall into a final orgasm.

your heels dig into his shoulder blades, not sure whether to pull him closer or push him away when you feel an unfamiliar hot streak rip through your abdomen and down your limbs, body breaking into trembles as your back arches off the bed and your hands weakly clasp at the edges of the pillow your head lay on, “f-feels funny, shou— ‘m gonna—!”

“‘s alright, baby—oh, f-fuck— me too,” and with a quick snap of his hips forward, shouto fills you to the hilt with his length, cock twitching frantically against your pulsating walls as he empties himself inside you one last time, teeth clenched to suppress a wanton groan when he feels a thick gush of your arousal spray all over his abdomen.

his limbs give out from under him, and he lowers himself down gently onto you before rolling over onto his back and cradling your head in the nook of his neck, his other hand pressing your chest flush against his.

you feel each other’s heartbeats like this, and you share a tired laugh when shouto’s cock softens and slips out of you, the cum he’s plugged you up with slowly following suit as it leaks out onto the already soaked, taut skin of his tummy. you lay together in the remnants of your arousals, too blissed out to be bothered by the messiness of it all.

shouto speaks up first after he catches his breath, voice raspier than usual from overexerting it in the hours prior, “you had me worried, y’know… thought someone had broken in, or something.”

“‘m sorry…” you lay slow kisses over the expanse of his chest apologetically, shyly smiling when you realize he’s tracing hearts into your back with his finger, “i tried taking care of it myself, but it’s jus’ not the same without you.”

warmth floods his chest at your words, and he leans his head down to place his lips firmly on the crown of your head, “i’m glad you called— that was… amazing.”

“maybe i should accidentally get it hit with a lust quirk more often,” you smirk up at him mischievously, poking his cheek when he returns your look with fake incredulity.

“and keep me from doing hero work?”

“you would be doing hero work; rescuing me, a poor civilian, helping them tough it out…”

he only responds with a cheeky hum as he glides his tongue over his top row of teeth, to which you scoff.

“what— would you rather i call someone else instead the next time this happens? what if i called baku—”

“alright, alright, i get it,” shouto interrupts you before you have a chance to finish your statement as he wraps his arms around you tighter, almost protectively— and runs a heated finger up and down the groove of your spine.

you lay in comfortable silence a tad longer— watching the sun set and the moon rise, listening to the singing of the birds as it dwindles off into the chirps of the crickets.

shouto opens his mouth to ask about getting you cleaned up, only to shut it just as fast when he notices that you're fast asleep, little snores pushing past the part of your lips where drool dribbles onto his chest. he smiles down at you with adoration and stars dancing around in his eyes at how sweet— how innocent you look like this— his beautiful girl.

his fingers find your hips, rubbing soothing circles over your slightly burnt skin from when he had branded you in the hours prior— a symbol of your love, a silent vow to protect you and keep you out of harm's way for as long as he lives, a reminder that you belong to each other.

from coco ๑‧₊˚ ෆ here she is . . a slight rework ++ repost of my longest smutfic 2 date >u< ! i hope tis okay . . it's a littl different from my current writing style && i dunno if i vibe w it as much ^^; regardless ! i rly hope u luvd dis piece <3 comments + reblogs r supa dupa appreciated && help me a ton ! let me know wat u think (ᐡ⸝⸝ɞ̴̶̷ ﻌ -⸝⸝ᐡ)

taggiez ๑‧₊˚ ෆ @clelevanters @5ugu @intergalacticrory @twinbladesgaylia @tsumuomiiz @keiphoria @lilliangazer @thesoftestcherub @lem-hhn @itsyabitchbrooke @asaptakami @namu-lovebot @soumies @secretpastaneckapricot-blog @itachislut @cherrykamado @nekoiin

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟓 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐙𝐨𝐫𝐨 & 𝐆𝐍!𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

“If I touch here,” Zoro trails, “what happens?” His fingers softly tickling the perky nipples, grinning at the way you shudder from the sensation.

“Those are some nice tits,” he cups your soft mounds, squeezing and massaging them with a smirk stretching his lips. Straddling you, Zoro bends over you to lick a long stripe from your belly up to the middle of your chest, he sucks on the curve of your breast.

“Mm..please Zoro, touch me more,” you whine.

“Like this?” Zoro asks, grabbing a handful of your chest and cupping his mouth over your sensitive nipple, whilst his free hand teases your other nipple. He kisses and sucks like a hungry, greedy cat.

Your back arched as you gasped softly, head spinning with pleasure and lust.

Zoro moves away, his gaze settling on your tightly shut eyes, and slacked jaw, his smirk widens into a grin. His fingers twist and pull your nipples, chuckling with amusement when you grab at his wrists as you gaze at him with that love struck smile.

“Feels good, hm?”

“Mh-hm,” you hum, grinning back at him.

“Good,” Zoro whispers huskily, leaning to kiss around your areola as he playfully slips his tongue to delicately caress your hard nipple.

He flicks his tongue a few to get you worked up again, then he starts to massage your breasts again.

It went on for long, long enough until you were left breathless from all the attention he gave your chest on this day.