Thinking...... Pondering...... Meat...... Contemplating......

Falling (Zoro x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Zoro x Female Reader Summary: You tend to be clumsy, and because of your boyfriend's past, you give him a mini heart attack every time you fall. Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Injuries, Worried Zoro, SPOILERS for Zoro's past?? [One Piece Masterlist] _____

Zoro knows you're strong.

He's seen you defeat opponents three times your size, seen you throw yourself in danger for the safety of your crew, had seen you win gruesome battles, and what's more, when you spar with him, he actually breaks a sweat. The two of you often train together, and Zoro bears witness to how you mould your strength, bettering yourself for the next battle and the next.

He knows.

But god dammit, why did you have to be so clumsy?

Zoro knows that, technically, it is no one's fault: the way you trip over your own two feet, the scattered bruises you bear, the odd yelp after the hundredth time dropping glassware in the kitchen. But he can't help but fall victim to the spike of his heart, the sweat that seems to rise instinctually, and his limbs that carry him quickly to the wake of your curses or the crash of your miseries.

And, most of the time, the new injury you hold is small and insignificant; rarely would you require medical attention afterwards. But Zoro finds himself still hating it. Hating the fact that he has no one to fight or to blame, has no one to curse or berate, no one to protect you from. Because your injuries are the cause of your own, and it wasn't like you particularly loved the misfortune of wounds from everyday activities either.

You had to admit, though, and to Zoro's muted gladness, that the number of injuries you bore had significantly decreased after meeting the stoic swordsman. Even before the two of you started dating, Zoro had noticed your affinity to the most unseeming dangers and had unknowingly taken it upon himself to prevent purple and blue from tainting your skin.

His curses as hands guide you away from walls and obstructing objects you somehow do not notice.

The twitching of his brows as he quickly catches you before you fall face-first to the ground, panic clouded beneath his irritation.

Every movement, every moment you take a step towards another hazard, carefully judged by his sharp eyes and willing instincts.

You were grateful beyond measure that your now-boyfriend, though oftentimes bearing an annoyed facade, cared and was patient enough to save you from the minor disasters you thought were an everyday norm. His efforts had increased tenfold, especially when the two of you became official, as he had an excuse to linger by your side as often as he pleased.

Though embarrassed sometimes that such a capable fighter as yourself found defeat in the lack of coordination of your own limbs, you could not deny that Zoro's protectiveness was an attractive and oftentimes welcome response. However, you did not realise the brunt of his actual panic, his actual aversion to the sight of you injured, until the time you accidently fell down a flight of stairs on the Sunny.

.....

You had been standing at the front of the ship, your Captain on the figurehead as you both tried to spot the pod of dolphins that had been swimming in front of you. Your boyfriend was half-sleeping against the mast of the ship, though his senses still lingered on the voices of you and Luffy, laughing and talking and challenging yourselves to see how many of the sea creatures graced the forefront of the Sunny.

"There's nine!"

"What are you talking about? I counted at least twelve!"

Your voices were caught by the gentle breeze and the timid sun as it fell slowly to the horizon. Everything was peaceful, everything was calm, and Zoro was on the brink of actually sleeping, knowing all was well and that you were safe. Your conversation with your captain had dwindled into more casual talk of adventures and plans of endeavours on future islands.

Your bright discussion lasted many sparing moments but, of course, was interrupted by the familiar grumble and groan of your Captain as he fell on the sunny's figurehead exaggeratively.

"[y/n]~ I'm hungryyy."

You roll your eyes at his whining words after only a moment's silence in conversation.

Luffy never seems to find satisfaction with the amount of food he eats.

"What do you want me to do about it? Sanji's got the whole kitchen on lockdown after the incident you pulled this morning."

You faintly remember your Captain and the crew's cook, causing a ruckus in the kitchen that no doubt stemmed from Luffy's devouration of food.

"He'll listen to you pleaaaseee"

You continue looking to the horizon, unfazed.

"No."

"Pleaseee"

"No"

"Pleaseeee"

"No."

"Pleaaaaseeee-"

You grit your teeth in irritation, sighing heavily as you push yourself off the railing of the ship. Luffy, however, meets your frown with a grin in anticipated satisfaction.

You always did give in too easily.

"Fine, something small, though. It's almost time for dinner."

Luffy lets out a laugh and nods enthusiastically, upright once again on the figurehead. You step away from the blatant joy on his face, making your way to the stairs that lead to the green of the deck below.

Sometimes, you don't know if Luffy is the Captain of this ship or a child the crew look after.

You move, still lost in your thoughts and quite, honestly, simply not thinking. Because, well, you feel a normal human would not have to think too hard about going down a flight of stairs to get food. But you forget that you are not the average person.

In fact, you probably should've grabbed the railing and counted down the steps back to solid ground because one minute your foot was on wooden steps, and the next you were walking on air.

You let out a yelp of surprise as you slip on the rigidity of the stairs that were supposedly beneath you, and you feel your world turning in your head. The spike of your heart comes with a fraction of a second of weightlessness and a single thought in your head.

Shit, not again.

You stumble, and you fall, limbs hurdling and gracing the rigid edges of the stairs. In a flurry of movements, you are suddenly on the grass of the deck, but in a way that would surely leave remnants of your clumsiness. You groan as you finally come to a halt, back against the ground as you look to the sky, exasperated. You can hear the light laughter of your Captain.

"You alright [y/n]?"

But you do not reply, hearing the amusement in Luffy's tone. You did not blame him, however, as the crew had become accustomed to the way things, such as walking, were not so much a given but a privilege to you. You roll your eyes, still on your back as you lie in defeat for a moment. Sure, you were not too badly hurt - you were a member of the straw hat crew after all - but you'd be damned to try moving again for a few seconds.

To your boyfriend, however, your sudden shout, fall and lack of response had sent him into a spiral.

Zoro was shot awake the instant he heard the yelp you let out as you lost your balance and succumbed to your fall on the stairs. But he was too late to move, and in all honestly, though half-awake, he felt something die within him when he saw your limbs tumble and hit the edges of the wooden planks.

"[y-]"

His voice is caught in his throat, as his heart rate spikes abnormally high. Higher than the instances when he saw you fall before. His mind unwillingly travels far into his past, to the dojo where he found the dream he still clings onto today, to his childhood friend and rival, Kuina.

She had been strong, too.

Hell, she had bested him in all battles he called for.

He thought that she would be a constant in his life, a source of rivalry and challenge and growth. She had seemed invincible in his young age. But then, the news had travelled.

The news of her death.

And the cause of it, was the very stairs he watches you fall on now. The unnerving atmosphere, her haunting funeral, and the will he holds onto through battles alongside her swords.

But you.

You were strong, capable, grown...

You were the love of his life...

You were falling...

He can't save you.

Your limbs stumbled to a halt as you hit the soft grass, a stark contrast to the stairs that would be the root of bruises on your body later. And you were okay.

But your boyfriend didn't know that.

Zoro's heart rate continues to rise, and he thinks that he is on the brink of hyperventilating. One sharp breath in, and his limbs are pulled into forced movement as he travels to you, cursing himself for looking blankly at the scene so uselessly. He stumbles forward, and he hears his Captain, words filled with teasing amusement.

"You alright, [y/n]?"

But you don't move, you are facing the sky, face shadowed by the falling sun, and he doesn't know if you are conscious or okay. You stay silent, not replying to the words of Luffy, and Zoro hates how long it has taken him to travel mere meters to your side. But when he enters your vision, you are met with a sight you have never seen before.

Zoro... scared.

"[y/n]!!"

The green-haired swordsman looks down at you frantically, hands giving way to light tremors you feel quickly cradling skin and causing you to look up in concern. Zoro sees your eyes, awake, and lets dull relief relieve his heart, but he is not yet satisfied.

"Zoro, I'm okay, I just-"

"What were you thinking, woman?"

There is a pause as you register his rushed words and the way his eyes seem to travel to every crevice of your face and body, searching for an indication that you were not okay. He measures your gaze, and he pulls you closer, willing you to anchor his nerves.

"Zoro-"

"You could've been seriously injured-"

"Zoro-"

He meets your gaze once more, but hesitantly, eyes wavering at your worry, only now realising the vice grip he has around you. His breaths are uneven, and even his Captain grows silent and confused at the sight of his second-in-command in rare loss of composure.

You start to sit up from within his embrace. You reach out and cradle his face in one hand, watching as more relief starts to fill his system and replace the panicked look on his face, replace his uneven breaths with more steady ones. Just what had gotten into him?

"You could've died."

His voice is low, and it causes a jolt of your heart. This was your always stoic, serious, calm swordsman... He now looks haunted, and his gaze is only half with you, as though reliving a moment only he could see.

"Zoro," you murmer, there remains a crease in your brow as you are still confused but also concerned about his unusual behaviour and haste. You gently run your thumb on the skin of his cheek, hoping to soothe him the way he so often does whenever you are lost to the confines of your mind.

"I'm okay, stairs aren't going to kill-"

"You don't know that."

His words are sharper this time, and your eyes widen, slightly startled. You watch guilt envade your boyfriend's eyes, then his grip lightning further on your skin, as sharpness fades in a heavy sigh. His gaze is more sullen now, though his nerves are calmed, and he allows you to sit up fully.

"Okay, I'm sorry."

Your words are soft and anchoring, and Zoro stands reluctantly, gently guiding you to your feet as though one wrong movement would tear him away from the reality of you, alive and well before him.

"Don't apologise just- tch, let's go see Chopper."

Your boyfriend refuses to meet your gaze then, but you nod silently. Luffy decides to look away from the sight of Zoro, his arms wrapped securely around you, in a mix of not understanding but knowing there must be some sort of invisible battle Zoro faces. You, on the other hand, allow his limbs to wrap securely around your shoulders, holding more of your weight than necessary, but you remain in silence, allowing him to look after you.

In the infirmary, Zoro remains uncharacteristically worried and rigid. Before entering, his only words to you were those that indicated he wanted to be with you as Chopper checked up on you. Only when the small doctor gives you the all-clear does Zoro let the tension fall from him fully. You thank Chopper, and the two of you make your way out of the infirmary, quiet though the air is still murkey with apprehension.

"Zoro, what's wrong?"

In the hallway, you stop him abruptly with the pull of his arm, still unsure as to why a stumble on stairs - unlucky but not necessarily unforeseen - has him in a state you have rarely seen. Your boyfriend turns to you hesitantly, eyes far away.

"I just know what a fall is capable of."

His low voice catches an edge of emotion. His hand lingers absentmindedly on a sword by his side. The white one he always holds close to him. You remember him saying faintly about how it was given to him long before you met him. Zoro was a private man, and even you had barely formed the cracks on the enclosures of his past, but you saw clearly now that there must've been a connection.

His incessant protection over every minor fall.

The way he would always treat your injuries so carefully afterwards or make sure Chopper saw to it that you were okay.

Every careful caress and action is rooted to a past you do not know, but you also now find understanding.

Zoro moves close to you so you can feel the heat radiating off his body and so that he can feel the warmth your skin emits. He seems to search your eyes and analyse their lustre and spark. A single caress as he moves away lingering hair, and his lips were suddenly on yours.

You are taken aback, not used him so spontaneously kissing you in an open space, but you return the favour quickly, pressing against him and feeling the way he cradles you so delicately, so carefully. There is a moment of him and a moment of bliss. When you pull away, there is a warmth to his eyes and a softness enveloped just for you.

A vulnerable love that lingers.

You, the root of his worry.

You might not know the depths of his past, but you sure as hell take a lot more care walking down a flight of stairs after that.

computer crashed so have this platter of old toshinori cringe

Some sketches of my favorite Bounty Hunter!

Loving this series. Pedro Pascal is a gem 

Artist: kystktstura

roronoa zoro; 21,051 words (not including epilogue), fluff and angst, ENEMIES!!! to lovers, the slowest of slow burns, canon-normal violence, on-page description of injury, excessive use of flashbacks, some banter, healing from trauma, baroque works!reader to strawhat!reader, no "y/n", emotionally constipated!zoro, hurt and comfort, angst with a happy ending; (epilogue tags will be posted separately)

summary: in which neither you nor zoro are the children you remember each other to be.

update: new chapters will be posted on @shouyuus!!!

a/n: IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! i honestly cannot believe i actually finished writing this lmfao. but anyway, this post will act as a table of contents/masterlist of sorts, and i will update links to the separate chapters as they go up. chapters will be posted every few days (but they are all done! except for the epilogue LOL). i've tagged everyone who has req-ed to be tagged in this series so far on this prologue post, but if you wish to be tagged for the upcoming chapters and you're not already on this fics specific taglist, please comment below to be added! and without further ado -- here we go!

TABLE OF CONTENTS ━

prologue: someone, somewhere

chapter one: a shadow of the past

chapter two: tell no tales

chapter three: sleep of the living, dreams of the dead

chapter four: another life

chapter five: true love's kiss

epilogue: la petite mort (nsfw)

prologue: someone, somewhere

He remembers you most as a child, in halcyon images and gold-limned flashes of his own childhood memories, the edges blurring watercolor soft, but the center (always you) carved in knife-sharp relief.

You were one of the few children that lived in Shimotsuki Village who hadn’t come from the doujou — one of the few children he knew that (at least to the best of his knowledge) had a thing called family. A mother to braid your hair, a father to chase the darkness away, a warm bed and a kitchen that always smelled of freshly made rice. And perhaps it was jealousy, or some other more complicated emotion that had been then too big to name with one single word, but he’d never gone out of his way to befriend you like the other kids from the doujou did — fascinated as they were by your soft hands and round cheeks and the bright, glittering array of homemade sweets you’d bring with you once every couple of weeks.

He’d learn later on that it was because Shimotsuki-sensei had saved your father’s life at some point in time; the story now lost to the annals of legend and withering memory, but back then, he’d only assumed it was the natural way of things. Of waking up for kata practice and then settling in for lunch, and then maybe, if it was to be a good day, you, with your basket of sweets and your blue-bell laughter.

And perhaps this is why, years later, when he meets you again in a dark, nameless village tavern, he doesn’t recognize you — not at first. Because you’d looked so different. Gone was the roundness in your cheeks, or the natural star-bright light in your eyes. Gone, too, were the bright braids that your hair had always been set in — he remembers so clearly, watching the other boys from the doujou jab their fingers into the rings of your pinned up braids, pulling down just to hear you squeak. He hadn’t said anything then, stupidly thinking him above it all, watching as you tried to jerk away, but laughing when the boys finally relented with half-hearted apologies.

You always threatened to take their sweets away; you never did, in the end.

But there, then, in that tiny tavern, you’d been thin, your hair dark as an oil spill, loose and inky as it cascades over your shoulders, your eyes lightless as the windows to an abandoned house — the hollowness made all the more visceral by the light he knew once inhabited them. The way loneliness is always more potent when coming back to it, the second time around.

He wanders up to the bar, slates you a glance before rapping his knuckles on the worn wood to catch the bartender’s attention.

“I’ll have beer and a refill of whatever the lady’s having.”

You shift slightly, shoulders hunching towards your ears.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you say, shifting to shield your face from his gaze.

Zoro cocks his head, tossing a few Berry towards the bartender as they set down a stein of beer and a champagne flute to replace the one in front of you.

“Can’t a guy buy a girl a drink?” Zoro asks, rolling his shoulders as he reaches out for his beer. You eye him warily.

“Not for a guy that’s been tracking me for three weeks straight.”

Zoro hums, thumb poised on the hilt of his swords.

“We just happened to be going in the same direction.”

You reach out to run a forefinger along the rim of the thin champagne flute before swirling it once by the base. You watch the bubbles fizzle before leaning in to take a dainty sip.

“And they say chivalry is dead…” you murmur, almost too softly for him to hear. Zoro scoffs, allowing himself a twinge of a smirk before his mouth falls flat.

“You let me track you for three whole weeks.”

There’s no question in his words, only a harsh, accusatory certainty.

You lick your lips, leaning back in your stool, tugging your glass of champagne with you.

“Maybe I wanted the company.”

“Or maybe… you wanted me to follow you here.”

Every muscle in his body is tense, drawn taut as a tightrope, coiled tight as a spring.

You sigh, twisting a single lock of your hair around a finger, examining the ends as if looking for split hairs.

Then, quick as a flash, you’re at each other’s throats — him with a sword poised at your jugular, you with a knife pressed against his stomach.

“One move —” you warn, digging the knife slightly further into his skin. Distinctly, Zoro feels the pressure slice through his thick linen shirt, the cool kiss of the blade against his abdomen. And he’s killed enough by now to know that you’ve picked a major artery — one that would hurt, and take minutes for him bleed out. Just long enough for him to suffer, but not enough to get help.

The edge of his mouth ticks upward — not bad.

It’s then, in the infinitesimal flicker of your eyes meeting his, that he realizes who you are.

He nearly topples back, jerking away slightly with the revelation. Your eyes go wide, jolted by his sudden movement. But he’s quick enough to evade the sharp jab of your knife and a second later, you’re on either ends of the tavern, drawn blades and bared teeth.

“Y-you!” the word rips from Zoro like an unripe scab, thick and hard and still bloody underneath.

You lick your lips, eyes narrowing to slits beneath your long, lanky hair.

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

“The hell you don’t.”

“Oi! No fighting in the bar!” the barkeep’s voice is gruff and loud, and for a second, Zoro wonders if you’ll listen. The next, the sharp clang of metal on metal stuns him backwards a few steps as you wrest your knives from between two of his katanas, snarling.

“If you’re so much of a gentleman — let’s take this outside.”

“Ladies first,” Zoro spits out as he whips both swords through the air before sheathing them. He makes a show of holding the tavern door for you as you stalk out in front of him, your hackles raised, your knives jutting out from your belt like so many pairs of sharpened claws.

“What do you want?” you ask, as soon as you’re both out of the bar and standing in the moonlit street outside, the wharf to your left, the strip of small, rundown taverns to your right.

The air twangs with the metallic smell of fish and the thick, oppressive sweetness of rotting wood.

“An explanation,” Zoro says, crossing his arms and planting his feet.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

Zoro nods, “Sure. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know.”

You lick your lips, glaring at him for a second longer before turning and marching down the rickety boardwalk. A moment later, Zoro levels himself with you as you round a corner onto a small stretch of beach, pillowed against a backdrop of sharp, unrelenting rocks, the tips bleached white by the round, silver moon.

“There was a beach just like this,” you say, stepping onto the tide-soaked sand, leaning down to pick up a fragment of a broken seashell, washed ashore by an errant wave.

It takes Zoro a second to realize you’re talking about Shimotsuki village, and the tiny little beach on the other side of the dense, cedar wood.

“Yeah. A bunch of us used to play there — see who can throw rocks out the furthest.”

“You were always the best at that,” you say, your voice softer than he’d heard all night.

“Yeah, well…” Zoro shrugs, leaning down to pick up a piece of rock, weighing it in his palm a few times before whipping his arm back to snap it into the gentle, shushing waves. You both watch as the rock skids out over the water before plunking into the sea, “Guess I’ve always been kind of a show-off.”

The sound of your laughter sends summertime sparklers racing up his spine.

The quiet pools between you like spilt blood, rank and dripping.

“So. You go by Ms. Double Nines now, I heard,” Zoro says, in a flagging attempt to be casual as he turns to glance at you, both his hands resting on the hilt of his swords.

You stand next to him, your eyes focused on a point far out on the horizon, still as statue.

“What’s it to you?”

Zoro sighs, looking down. In the pale, cool moonlight, his earrings glint like baring teeth.

“What happened?”

You suck in a breath.

"Life happened,” you say, turning back towards him with a steely glint in your eyes. Zoro stiffens, his grip tightening on his swords as he sizes you up. He does the mental calculations — you’re just far enough for him to defend against an attack, but close enough where if things were to go south entirely, he’d have a hard time getting back to safety.

You grin, seemingly noticing his rough internal calculations.

“Do yourself a favor, Roronoa — and don’t ask questions you don’t wanna know the answers to,” you say, flicking out one of your blades and tossing it up into the air, only to catch it around your finger, swinging it round and round, the sharp edge of the blade nicking the air just shy of your cheekbone.

“Who said I didn’t want to know?” Zoro presses, bracing himself for a fight.

You chuckle, the sound harsh and mirthless.

“If you’d wanted to fight me properly, you wouldn’t have waited till I got you onto this stretch of deserted beach.”

“Maybe I just wanted a quiet place to kill you.”

“Or maybe…” your voice is so low Zoro almost doesn’t catch the stomach-wrenching longing in your words, “I just wanted a quiet place to die.”

The sharp shink of blades being drawn is heart-rendingly familiar, but the bone-rattling clash of metal on metal still shakes him to the roots of his teeth. Zoro grunts as he parries a blow from either side, before crossing his swords to catch your assault down the center.

You’re fast, he’ll give you that, your body smaller and quicker. You slip through the shadows with the comfort of a person who knows nothing but and he can’t help wondering at the life you’ve led that had pushed you to this point.

To having a mark on your back, a bounty on your head.

You’re a good fighter — this much, he acknowledges. But good isn’t usually good enough to best him. This much, he also knows. Yet somehow, you’re keeping up, somehow, you’re pushing him back, forcing him to retreat one step and then another. It’s not until you duck beneath one of his pin-wheeling blades and force yourself into a knife’s-breath of his space that he realizes — it isn’t that you’re good, it’s that you’re reckless.

Reckless with your own body in a way that makes him stumble back at the realization. Reckless, in the way you charge forward and thrust your body into spaces where he’d easily be able to slip a blade between your ribs — and later, when he’s wiping his swords clean of your oxidizing blood, he’d wonder why he didn’t.

Still, there’s something terrifying in the way you barely flinch when he knicks your arm, drawing a dark line of blood through your clothes, or how you jerk yourself forward when the tip of his sword catches your stomach, almost as if daring him to impale you in one fell swoop.

“You — you used to be… someone else,” he says, panting as he steadies himself against a sharp jut of moonlit rocks. Behind you, the ocean churns, dark and foaming as it throws itself onto the jagged reefs.

You lick your lips, wiping a smear of blood from your cheek. Your chest heaves with the exertion, but there’s a pale, flickering ache behind your eyes that sets Zoro’s whole body on edge.

He shivers as you grin, savage and unrecognizable as the tiny girl with mochi-round cheeks who had once upon a time offered him sweets in a hand-woven basket.

“Yeah? Well — so did you.”

TAGLIST: @brairslair @msheds0519 @yunabelless @lynndt-chocolate @lostonthrillerbark @stunies @tsumu-senpai @phroggii @ssailormoonnn @breathinginyoursmoke @guridoodles @kyllium @naomihatake @itoshiexx @mythicallystupid @mars-mizuko @astroniii @crispynutella @enhastolemyheart @fanficwriter101 @jamesbparker @dira333 @weirdowithaphone @ink-perfect

No bc I’ve been so haunted lately by shanks and prone bone…….. he’s so huge and all-encompassing pressed against your back, breath hot at your ear, scruffy chin rough against the softness of your jaw. He shoves his face into your nape and licks, heavy and wet, desperate for the salty taste of your sweat beading there. His arm is a vise around your waist that only grows tighter when he drags another release from you and it all becomes too much and you try to squirm away on instinct, drawing a breathy yelp from you and an unintelligible growling protest from him in return each time.

But when you finally pry your arm free enough to fling it backwards and grip his hair, he falters just barely. Your hand tightens, nails digging into his scalp as you yank, and he melts against you with a sound entirely unbecoming for a man of his stature—his hips stutter, then press against you and grind, sending white-hot sparks of warm, seeping pleasure through your core as he finally cums.

👀 so anyways

sorry I had to take a sip of water a year and a half ahem ah yes like I was saying rough day chapter 20 will be posted on Sunday March 12 2023 at 9pm est thank you

hiiii could you write julius novachrono x reader with a praise kink?? thank you!

hehe yes! thanks for the request 🦈

julius novachrono x reader

warnings: 18+, praise kink

"I've been thinking about you all day."

Julius's voice was always intoxicating. Especially when he was so tired after a long day of work, and wanted nothing more than to scoop his love up in his arms and curl up with you on his large bed. His voice would become strained, labored. It wasn't long until articles of clothing began to go missing, and his skin pressed needily against yours.

"You're always so fun to come home to-" he whispered against your skin, one of his hands gently massaging your chest. "You're just the thing I need to help erase the day from my memory."

"I-I'm glad," you answered, closing your eyes to drink up the sensation. "Anything for you, Julius."

He let out a soft laugh, his lips pressing against your neck. You let out a needy moan, arching against him. "Ah~ You really make the prettiest sounds," he teased. "You want more?"

You nodded, gasping as he went back for your neck, his lips sucking and teeth nipping. The arm around your middle tightened, and the hand that had been gently stroking your hair suddenly gripped it, a gentle yet firm hold that kept you still. You were a shivering mess, your whole body flushed at this point.

"So beautiful..."

Julius sighed, his grip suddenly softening as the intense moment passed. A new one would come shortly, but he didn't want to rush it. There was something so nice about slowly working you up until you were begging for him; it was the only thing in his life that he could take his time with.

"You've been so good and patient for me." He shifted to roll on top of you, gazing down into your eyes for the first time since you two laid down. He smirked, and you bit your lip in anticipation. "I might be a King, but I can serve you all night long if you'd like."

You let out a breathless laugh at the corny joke, but sucked it back in when Julius lowered his head and started kissing down your stomach teasingly.

"Don't look away. I love watching your pretty face when you come~"

When a fanfic gets to the smut too fast