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hhighkey · 13 days ago

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All Mine｡°✩ Bakugou Katsuki

Masterlist ୨ৎ

is it normal for a tinder hookup to invite you to his birthday party? only one way to find out.

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒

Glitter 𐔌 𐦯 : happy birthday Katsuki!! you guys voted for this on the poll (Sorry if you were expecting smut... but I cringe at myself attempting to write it so suggestive is all you get), enjoy!

Warnings : VERY SUGGESTIVNESS so minors beware (nothing explict but still), Female!Reader, modernAU, aged-up, drinking, mention of drugs, classic Bakugou warnings

W/C : 3k

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

[10:37 PM] B: you got plans tmrw

B is Bakugou Katsuki. The guy you've been enjoying lately. To say the least.

You met in the classic way—late-night Tinder, you feeling lonely and a little reckless. He had only one picture—a sharp jawline, messy blond hair, and not much else to go off. But he looked good. Really good. So, feeling lucky, you swiped right.

Match. Instantly.

He messaged first. You messaged back. Five minutes later, you were making plans to meet at a bar downtown. All you could hope for was that he wasn’t a catfish, and that getting dressed up wouldn’t be for nothing.

It definitely wasn’t.

You barely spent time at the bar. Most of the night was spent tangled up at your place. And that’s kind of how it went from there—he’d text, you’d text back. He’d come over, he’d leave. That was the thing. Sometimes you’d text first—on the nights you were feeling extra needy, craving hot hands and hungry lips.

You didn’t even know much about him. Just his name, his major, and the sounds he makes when he’s close. You didn’t think of him as much else. Didn’t let your mind drift into soft little daydreams about who he might be outside of your bedroom. What he was like with friends, what music he listened to, what kind of kid he was in high school.

Because Bakugou Katsuki didn’t seem like that kinda guy. There was nothing lovey-dovey about him. Just low curses and hard thrusts.

So this message? Felt different.

For one—you never made plans. That wasn’t how this thing worked.Just heat-of-the-moment, spur-of-the-night kind of energy.

And two—it wasn’t even his usual type of text. He didn’t ask. He told. Normally, it was a blunt little “im comin over”—not a question, but something close to a courtesy. A way of saying: I’m giving you the out, if you want it.

You scroll back at your texts these past few months and see the same pattern over and over, this one sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest.

[10:40 PM] You : idk.

[10:40 PM] You : why

Does he notice the difference, too? The pause in your rhythm. The hesitation. Why does it matter if he does?

[10:42 PM] B : im having a party tmrw

[10:42 PM] B : or my flatmate is

[10:42 PM] B : u should come

You stare at the screen for a second, not sure if you’re more confused or just… surprised. Not that it matters.

The read receipt doesn’t faze him. He doesn’t even wait for a response. Just sends the address, followed by a quick “starts at 7. let me know if ur coming and il order an uber.”

You don’t reply.

You don’t reply, because this isn’t part of the unspoken deal that you are familiar with. And maybe he just wants a pretty girl to stand near the drinks, someone to make the party pictures look good. Because Bakugou Katsuki is probably nothing more than an asshole. Probably.

~~~

Maybe curiosity really does kill the cat. Because somehow, you decide to go.

You never reply to him, leave him to conclude that the silence means no, you idiot, I only want you for one thing. But against your better judgement, you pull something skimpy on and brace yourself for what's to come, because you are curious.

You want to see where he lives. Who he likes. What he looks like when he’s out of his element. You want to see if it all matches the version you've been playing in your head. The version you’ve carefully constructed while you’ve kept things simple, kept it just about the physical.

But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking you’re actually going to show up. So, you leave him hanging, go radio silent, and step out at 10 PM. Plus a glass of wine or two before you leave—just enough to make the shyness a little easier to ignore.

The alcohol burns nice in your veins… for a bit, until you’re standing outside the apartment door and the cold air cuts right through you, sobering you up fast.

At least you know it’s the right address, because you can hear the light thumping of bass and loud voices from out here (Not Bakugou’s though, but what would he even sound like loud, all you know is the low rough murmurs as he-). No turning back now. Not because you feel good about this decision, but because it’s freezing and your dress is doing absolutely nothing. So, you knock. Lightly.

And no one answers. Obviously. It’s a party, and half the people inside are probably too drunk or too distracted to notice. And none of them know who the hell you are anyway, so it’s not like anyone’s waiting at the door.

You check the handle. It turns. It’s open.

So, you step inside.

And it hits—hard. Like sensory overload dialed to ten. The place is decked out top to bottom, barely recognizable as a regular apartment. Streamers, lights, drinks in every corner. And before you can even take it all in, your eyes land on the handmade banner slapped across the wall: Happy Birthday Katsuki!

You don’t even need to ask. A quick glance around says it all—loud and clear.

There are old photos strung up along the walls, clipped to fairy lights that flicker unevenly. Most of the pictures are clearly from childhood—blond hair, scowling even as a toddler, surrounded by messy frosting and crooked party hats. One’s shows him mid-scream, cake all over his face. It’s kind of cute. Kind of surreal. Because this is his party.

It’s Bakugou’s birthday.

And he invited you to his birthday party?

You scan the room again, sharper this time. The place is crowded, but not enough to lose someone like him. And he’s not here. That heavy, sinking feeling creeps into your chest.

Maybe he invited someone else.

Maybe when you didn’t text back, he moved on, picked another warm body to fill the space. It wouldn’t be crazy. It wouldn’t be wrong. You don’t owe each other anything, and that’s the whole point of this thing—or at least it was. But still, the thought lands heavy, makes something sour churn low in your gut. Makes your throat go tight in that way you hate.

You swallow it down, hard.

You’re already halfway through turning around, ready to slip back out before you embarrass yourself any further, when a voice cuts through the noise. One you don’t recognize, but it says your name like it knows you.

It’s coming from a big, beefy redhead, cheeks flushed pink from alcohol, smile wide and boyish like he’s genuinely thrilled to see you. There’s this urgent sparkle in his eyes, and for a second you’re stuck wondering how the hell does he know your name.

“You’re here! Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he laughs, loud and booming and way too happy.

Before you can say anything, he’s placing a warm, heavy hand on your shoulder, “Hey, let me take your jacket. I’m Kirishima, by the way! Don’t think we’ve met yet.”

And you just… let him. Because honestly, you can’t think of anything else to do. You shrug your jacket off, hand it over, and he somehow manages to wedge it onto an already overflowing coat rack like it’s no big deal.

“Katsuki is…” he glances around, squinting into the crowd, “—well, I think he already snuck off somewhere. Classic. Gets sick of his own birthday halfway through every year.”

He laughs again, easy and fond, like that’s something everyone should know. Like you’re part of the group that gets Bakugou Katsuki.

And when it’s clear you’re not going to laugh with him—that you’re not in on the joke—he shifts, scratching the back of his neck, the flush on his cheeks deepening.

“Let’s get you a drink, yeah? Before Katsuki finds out you’re here and steals you away.”

Then he’s already turning, guiding you through the tangle of bodies toward the kitchen. You follow, trying not to overthink that last part. Steals you away. Like you’re some prize Bakugou might casually claim.

Does everyone think you’re just a body to him? And would that really be so bad… if it meant he’d picked you?

Fuck you need that drink. You toss the first one back the second it’s in your hand—barely tastes like anything, just cold and sharp. Kirishima lets out a loud laugh, already reaching to pour you another like it’s a challenge. As he talks, he’s all bright chatter—rambling about how annoying the setup was, how they almost didn’t get enough booze. He asks when your birthday is like it’s just part of the conversation, like none of this is weird.

He’s mid-sentence when someone interrupts—a blond, all pretty eyes and glazed-over smile, leaning in over Kirishima’s shoulder like he’s got zero sense of personal space. Drunk, maybe high. Definitely nosy, not that Kirishima seems to mind anyway.

“Who’s the pretty girl, Ei?” he slurs, trying for a smirk that doesn’t quite land.

Kirishima just laughs, easily wrapping an arm around the guy to steady him. “This is Bakugou’s girl, bro. Back off.”

The blond seems as thrown by that as you are. Bakugou’s girl? Since when?

“Wait… I thought she wasn’t coming,” he frowns, looking a little too disappointed. “That’s why Bakubro was being extra mean to me today…”

You expect Kirishima to jump in with something. But instead, he just gives you this look—his brows raised slightly, an expectant glint in his eyes, like he's silently nudging you to explain yourself too.

“Oh, um…” You twist uncomfortably under their gazes, feeling the weight of the attention. “I didn’t think I’d be able to, but… I am here now, so…” You shrug, the words feeling clumsy even to you.

Kirishima just watches you, his expression blank, and you get the sense that he’s not exactly thrilled with your answer—or with your whole last-minute appearance. Blondie, on the other hand, pouts deeper, his voice laced with a hint of teasing frustration. “Well, I would’ve preferred if you came before the beer pong… He was so aggressive with it…”. Kirishima gives the guy a playful pat on the head in response, a silent gesture that seems to acknowledge the comment without words.

This whole interaction has you itching to find Bakugou, to see why everyone’s been expecting you, why his flatmate seems annoyed by your absence. And, of course, to catch a glimpse of his handsome face too. “Where’s the birthday boy? I haven’t been here before, so…”

At the mention of Bakugou, Kirishima’s energy shifts, his enthusiasm returning like flipping a switch. “Let me show you,” he says, peeling Denki off his shoulder with a gentle but firm hand. “Denks, drink some water, okay?” Kirishima adds, his tone casual but with a hint of concern, before turning back to you to lead you back through the crowd.

Eventually, Kirishima stops in front of a hallway door, turning back to give you a quick grin. “He’s probably hiding out in there,” he says, giving the door a casual knock. “Don’t be too shocked, though. He’s a little… cranky tonight.” He flashes you one last smile before turning and walking away, leaving you standing there at the door.

You push the door open, silently wishing you will either find him inside alone, or not at all.

The room is dimly lit, the faint glow of string lights hanging lazily in the corners, old posters covering the walls. The scent of cigarette smoke lingers in the air, mixing with the faint buzz of the party from down the hall. Your eyes scan the room, searching for him, and that's when you see him: Bakugou, slouched in a chair by the window, arms crossed over his chest.

He doesn’t seem to notice you at first, too caught up in his own world. You can’t help but watch him for a moment, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens slightly as he breathes in. You hesitate for a moment, but before you can second-guess yourself, his voice breaks the silence.

"Didn't think you'd actually show," he mutters, his gaze still locked on the window, his tone rougher than usual.

"You didn’t tell me it was your birthday," you say, unmoving from your place at the door.

He doesn’t respond right away, his silence thick in the air between you. The seconds stretch on, but then, slowly, he turns to face you. His brow furrows, lips curling into something between a frown and a smirk, but it’s his eyes that catch you off guard. They’re wide, not shy, but hungry, tracing your frame with an intensity that makes the space between you feel smaller than it is.

"Come closer," he demands, voice low, almost challenging. "I want a better look at you."

You hate how easily you obey, the words pulling you forward like a magnet. Until finally, you’re close enough that the air between you feels thick, charged. His legs caging your own as you stand between them.

He doesn't move, not yet, but you feel the weight of his gaze, steady and intense. And when his hands finally find your waist, it’s almost a relief. Almost. They tug you forward, pulling you down onto his lap with a quiet but unmistakable force.

You try to steady yourself, to regain control, but his grip tightens just enough to remind you who’s in charge here. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening at the feel of his body so close to yours.

"Is this how you like it?" His voice is rougher now, darker, a question more than anything else.

“You know how I like it.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, the sound rough. "Damn right," he mutters, his hands sliding through your hair, fingers pulling roughly at your scalp, forcing your eyes to meet his. You hold in the quiet noise already threatening to come out from the treatment.

"I was pissed when you didn’t reply," he says, his gaze burning into yours. “Told everyone my girl was coming, even helped Shitty hair with putting the decks up, got the good drinks too. But you didn’t show.”

His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you in just a little closer, the light scent of alcohol on his breath. "Do you always keep people waiting?" he asks, his voice rougher now, low and almost a growl. "Or was this just for me?"

You hate how his words vibrate through you, how you have to resist the temptation to press your legs together while spread out on his lap, refusing to let him feel the impact of his own words. “But what is it you want from me, Katsuki?” You breathe out, close enough now to see his eyes flash at the name change. “I thought this was just sex, and now you’re inviting me to your birthday party and getting pissy when I don’t show... Is meeting your friends part of the deal now, too?”

“You think this is just sex?” he says, voice rougher now, like he’s testing the words himself. “You think I don’t hate walking away every time? That I haven’t thought about just… staying? Not leaving for once. Keeping you.” A beat. “Keeping you as mine?”

Your breath catches.

“Katsuki… then why didn’t you just ask?” you whisper. “Instead of always running off.”

“Never the right fuckin’ time,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the side of your face, his touch unexpectedly gentle. “You were always either sleeping or too fucked out to hold a conversation. And you... you sure know how to make a guy nervous Angel.”

You blink. “I make you nervous?”

His hand moves to the back of your neck, his grip tightening just enough to pull you closer, “You think I do this often?” His laugh is low, a little dry, but there’s a sincerity to it that catches you off guard. “I downloaded Tinder as a fuckin’ joke. But when I saw your face... couldn’t resist. And the second I had you? Casual was never gonna work for me.”

The weight of his words settles in your chest. You can’t look away, not when he’s watching you like that, like he’s been starving for this moment.

“But hey,” he says, voice dipping low, almost a murmur now. “If you don’t want more, that’s fine. I’ll still give you what you need.” His thumb traces your lower lip, a delicate contrast to everything else about him. “But I want all of it, Angel. I want everything you’ll give me.”

You stare at him, your voice steady despite the heat flooding your veins. “You think I’d be here if you hadn’t caught me too?” you say quietly. “I don’t get this pretty for just anyone.”

His expression shifts. The hunger softens into something warmer, heavier. Something like possession. “You better not,” he says, almost reverently. “You’re mine now.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

Your lips crash together, like they have a million times before, and then he’s picking you up and caging you on the bed underneath you. He dives into your neck, his lips trailing fire across your skin, a low, satisfied groan vibrating from his chest as he kisses you like a man starved. You gasp, trying to hold onto the moment, but you can barely keep your thoughts straight.

You laugh, a little tipsy on him more than the alcohol now. “Katsuki, wait—” You reach up to gently tug at his hair, trying to pull him back. “There’s like a million people in your apartment.”

He barely registers the comment, his hands already at your waist, pulling you closer. “Don’t care,” he mutters, ripping off his shirt with frustration, exposing his toned chest as he leans down to kiss you again.

“I care,” you protest weakly, though the excitement burning in you is undeniable. “I just met them… I want to leave a good impression.”

His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at his lips as he stares down at you. “Fuck that,” he growls, his hands tracing the curves of your body possessively. “The only person you need to be good for is me.”

You roll your eyes, trying to bite back a grin. “Yeah, sure, but I’d prefer not to be that girl at your party—”

“Angel,” he interrupts, voice full of mischief, “I’m the birthday boy.”

His breath ghosts over your ear, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

“Now…” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin, “let me open my present.”

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

general taglist 🏷️ : @cristy-101 @cielito--lindo @waterfal-ling

#i love him 😭😭😭#was not expecting this notif hehehe got so excited #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader

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hhighkey · 2 months ago

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Decode // Chapter Fourteen, Sunday Morning

Dracule Mihawk (opla) x OC (female)

Rating: mature

Story Contains: live action characters, related and non-related one piece plots, unspecified religion, OC is a nun on sabbatical, trauma, violence, age gap (40 v 23), insecurities and self doubts, possessive / protective behavior, kidnapping, true loves, eventual smut

Note: second to last chapter I've decided! pretty sure yall been waitin for this one hehehe que smut (feel like sorta got awkward tho at the end? sorta off my writing grind lately) ***ALSO yall i’ve now started to post this fic on my AO3 xxxx

Masterlist

It was a Sunday morning when Sabine trekked her way up to the Monastery. The Holy Day, it felt ironic in a sense when she realized it after leaving behind the Going Merry. Nostalgia, familiarity, sorrow laced with minor bouts of happiness hit her as she passed by the familiar sights, the sounds, the scents that had been a piece of her for so long. The small stores they frequented for candles and fabrics, sometimes sweets. The lilac field and how its wisps engulfed her, tears pricked at her eyes.

But it was the sight of the front gates. Then of the cemetery she had to pass. Of all the statues she’d come to memorize, each tile along the pathways and their dozens of cracks. The thorny rose bushes. The lines of laundry out to dry.

It felt as if she were coming off this great high, seemingly never ending until the doubt crept in. Mixtures of good and bad memories, the emotions raw within her as she approached. Seeing the very same windows and balconies she used to stare out from, imagining a life beyond the walls. The very same walls she allowed herself to walk back within. A tightening, coiling in her chest made it feel like the air was taken right from her lungs at the realization.

Her heart was set. For she knew it had been long ago. Yet it was her brain that reeled, trying to make excuses to go back to the Sisterhood. It was safe, she knew it well, and she could give up her autonomy over her body and mind for good. Let herself only think of her duty, it would be easy. Right?

“My child.” The matriarch stood just inside the main doors.

The musk of the ancient hall, the emptiness of it and all its dust, hit her full force. A heavy fog of remembrance, that the floral smell of an old dying woman that could never be masked, would be her fate. Her stomach lurched, a sinking sensation settling in. Sabine’s voice was stuck in her throat as she approached.

“Sister,” Sabine smiled warmly, “It’s good to see you.”

“You look well.” The elderly woman replied, “I’m not surprised, perhaps disappointed.”

“What do you mean?”

Sabine then noticed the bag at the matriarch of the Monastery’s feet. The very same bag Sabine had on her when she was brought to these doors all those years ago.

She sucked in a sharp breath as her heart hammered in her chest, suddenly beating out of tune. “Why do you have that?”

“You don’t belong here Miss Oakes. But you are dutiful, loyal, I’m worried you’d stay even if it sucked the life from you.”

“I…” She faltered. Nothing came out as she reopened her mouth, a stuttering within her brain on how to continue.

Sabine had rehearsed great speeches during the walk. During her sleepless night on the boat, thinking what to do, what to say. Every outcome on repeat, her imagining the worse possible outcomes. Imagining trying to leave the Monastery and being trapped, being forced into a religious manic state to keep her pliant. How convincing sermons and prayers of everyone acting as one could be. It became her nightmare.

Did it mean she wanted to leave?

“Do not bend over backwards to convince yourself of reasons to stay.”

Sabine teared up as a cacophony of emotion bore down on her, churned its way up through her belly and up her throat. She choked back a whimper, turning her head so to hide her glistening eyes.

“I can’t just– I can’t walk away, not after all…” Her voice broke off, “You’re right. I hated every second here, while I loved my sabbatical, as crazy as it was.”

A moment of pure joy blossomed in her chest. Like a rose in bloom, its red petals bright and full. Lovely. As if her consciousness was released of yet another worry. First the demon of her nightmares being vanquished. And now her decision. Having to push away the thoughts of letting down those she cared for within the Sisterhood. What would the loss of one nun be in the grand scheme of things?

“Good.” The matriarch smiled warmly, “While you will no longer be an active nun, I urge you to keep your habits, keep your love for your Sisters here. It was a strange world as you know. Stranger that I had Cardinal Joseph reaching out to me, granting you a title within the church permanently for all you have done. And if you want back in well? Aren’t we supposed to be for the lost and wary?”

It meant the world. Sabine grinned, a laughter bubbling up from her throat. Even Cardinal Joseph knew she needed out! Allowed her the option of safety to have safe havens within those associated with the church, knowing she could continue to declare herself a nun with no consequences if stuck in a jam. After the betrayal of her father as a child, she supposed she would always be guarded, dealing with the trauma it wreaked on her very depths she was not aware of. She supposed things would never work out in the way they did in stories, that she wouldn’t get the joyous ending she so wanted, just one of simplistic measures. While a life at the Monastery would not have been complete misery, Sabine only saw it as a prison compared to the opportunities ahead of her.

“Would you like to hear about everything that happened on Angelica Island?” Sabine asked, unable to wipe the grin from her face. The corners of her eyes crinkled to match the matriarch’s as they headed to her office to catch up over tea.

Had the sun ever shone that brightly before?

Sabine did not think so. Not when she’d been out hours prior thinking she was going back to her jail, the place that had slowly sucked the light from her. The answer had been there in front of her the moments Luffy and then Mihawk came into her life. While she now walked away from the Monastery for herself, she could not have been more appreciative for those that helped her see it.

It was bittersweet, it probably always would be. But as she’d walked the once intimate halls of the Monastery she felt like a ghost. A spirit stuck in time waiting for its chance to move on. And she knew if she’d stay, she’d wallow, she’d descend into something darker. Because those walls felt haunted, reminders of her past and the things that were still raw. Of her mother and of her despicable father. Of the abandonment and resentment that festered she did not realize until standing in her old room, seeing the empty bed and closet. It would go to another.

Life was moving on. And it was time for her to do so as well.

The matriarch had given her a bundle of supplies, of a few maps and directions on the next steps she could take. A list with a few names, then a letter to the owner of the Bed&Breakfast of the small town she’d passed through to arrive.

It was a nervous excitement that churned in her stomach, though she couldn’t deny the fear as well. She’d be foolish not to be uneasy, this new season of her life had no end date like the sabbatical. Sabine no longer considered the Monastery her fallback plan. It couldn’t be!

She felt a shift as she drew closer to town, the perimeter’s stone walls overridden with vines and sprawling flowers. As she came to the bottom of the hill the road weaved along, coming to the entrance her brain tried to catch up with what she was seeing.

Sabine came to a halt, time at a stand still around her. A euphoric quiet, the sounds of the quaint town coming to a hold. Her heart hammered in her chest as her stomach erupted in a fluttering swarm of butterflies. A choked cry of emotion came from her lips as she broke out into a grin, the ring she kept around her neck felt like it burned beneath her dress.

Without a care in the world she flung herself into his arms, bag dropping to the grass. Because she knew he’d catch her. And he did, his familiar scent enveloping her once again after months apart.

There in Mihawk’s arms Sabine let out a relieved laugh, squeezing her arms that wrapped around his neck. His hands firm on her waist. Electric tingles shot through her nerves, her veins feeling full of an overwhelming joy that threatened to burst at the seams.

Their grips on the other loosened as they pulled back enough for their gazes to connect in a fiery bond. His golden eyes entranced her. Stomach in knots. Passion surged through Sabine as she reacted.

On the tips of her toes, cupping his face in her hands Sabine pressed her lips to his. A barrage of fireworks set off inside the two as their lips moved with fervor, in disbelief that this had finally come to fruition. As if their souls intertwined as heat erupted beneath her skin, as her insides fluttered furiously. His grip on her was like he could lose her any moment, tight and to his chest. Their hearts beating in turn, quick as their pulses hiked as emotion swirled around them.

“How?” She asked in awe as they broke apart. Her breathing heavy.

“I promised after your sabbatical I would come and find you. I imagine you’ve made a decision?” He replied warmly, clearly insinuating the kiss, how effortlessly she’d pulled him into her as she could wait no longer.

Sabine flushed pink, suddenly embarrassed of her brash actions, “Oh sorry about that, got excited.”

He placed a kiss atop of her head, cupping her jaw to force her to look up at him. How cute her bright pink cheeks were, eyes glassy and wide. “Tell me of your time whilst we’ve been apart. Tell me all about your decision, all that went into it.”

And she did so with renewed vigor, gripping his arm as they walked to town, afraid he would disappear at any moment. Was this truly real? Truly happening to her? How attentively he listened to the adventures she had after their time together on the Island, carefully nodding, even tensing as she told him of close calls they suffered with other pirates.

“I want you to know,” Sabine said, stopping as they reached the Bed&Breakfast, “that I made this decision for myself, for what I wanted and not for anyone else. You just happen to be an addition to which my heart belongs.”

Mihawk brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, her skin swarming to life from his touch. “I know, I admire that of you. My heart belongs to you as well, my dear, it had from the moment I laid eyes on you in that bar.”

“Baratie seems like a life time ago.” She remembered some parts of it fondly, the rest not as much. “But to think, how much awaits me.”

Mihawk’s heart ached, it felt to expand as he looked upon her shining face and all he felt was the overwhelming weight of love. Her endearing smile, eyes alit in glittering wonder, but it was the unwavering stance in her future that made him proud. Once a young woman unsure of what she wanted, or perhaps too scared to claim what she knew she needed; was now impenetrable in the future she would grasp. Mihawk only hoped she would continue to see one with him.

“If you’ll have me by your side,” Mihawk said, voice low, “I would be honored.”

“Having a skilled swordsman might be helpful.” Sabine grinned as he chuckled from amusement. “I had plans for just myself, unsure of when we would meet. The matriarch gave me letters of places and people, but I suppose if you’d let me travel with you when safe, I would be very pleased. I have no goals for now besides to see the world and to be with you. I’m sure as time passes I’ll have more of an idea of where I want to dedicate myself.”

“It won’t always be safe to travel with me, but you’ll be safe in my home if you wish to stay there, or if I travel somewhere with a marine base I know you’ll be safe to wander to your heart’s content.”

“I was curious where you lived.”

“I believe you’ll find it amenable.”

Mihawk and Sabine paid for one room at the expansive Victorian style home of the Bed&Breakfast, it was on the second floor in one of the far corners. It overlooked the sea as if sat on a jagged piece of land that sat just higher than the rest of the miniature town. The waves crashed along the rocky shoreline just north of where the small port resided, an even smaller marine base to match the amount of occupants on the island.

It was a large room with renewed wooden floors and a fading pink wallpaper, old finishings and antique furniture. Quaint and clean, Sabine smiled to herself as her fingers ran along the linen curtains with embroidered daisies as she peered out the wide window.

As she looked to Mihawk, who stood in his glory as he carefully placed Yoru at bedside, Sabine was suddenly filled with nerves. A pleasurable yet painful fluttering that made it hard to think as heat pooled in her core. This time being alone with him in a hotel room felt different, drastic from the weeks they shared one on Angelica Island. Of course it was different, she thought, so much had changed. She had changed. And no longer would she be scared of what she wanted as it was steps away from her.

And it seemed Mihawk had the same line of thought. He was on her in moments, grasping her waist and pulling her into him. Lips searing on hers, lightheadedness tickled the back of her mind as her knees wobbled.

Sabine’s back met the soft bed, a soft gasp leaving her lips. She stared up at him with stars in her eyes, warm anticipation settling in her chest. Butterflies swarmed her stomach, excitement pooled in her core, so pleasurable and new that it overwhelmed her senses. She could hardly think straight as she was desperate to grasp Mihawk as he stood above her.

He stripped himself of his jacket and shirt with ease. How handsome he was in her eyes as he did so gracefully, a sheen of sweat at her hairline as she watched him. Reveling in his chiseled muscles that made her marvel. Her body was alive in every sense. She yearned for him in a way she had never experienced before and she thought she understood wanting someone. For how she missed him had been so consuming during their time apart, she did not think another emotion would control her as this did.

Their lips found each other as if they needed the other to breathe. Mihawk moved to carefully hover above her, holding the side of her face in one of his hands whilst the others bore his weight, planted above her head. Their hips slotted together as her legs wrapped around his waist, she could feel his hardened groin against her.

“Mihawk.” She breathed heavily as they broke apart for just a second. His lips went to claim hers once more but stopped. His golden irises peered at her intensely. “I’ve not done this…”

Realization flashes over his face, cheeks redding ever so slightly. “Right- a nun’s vows, permanent or not.” He remembered. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes. More than anything.”

He stole the breath from her lungs as their mouths slammed back together with a desperation only the other could quench. Sabine wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as physically possible, her entrapped between his forearms, stuck between the bed and his muscled chest. She saw stars as she let out a whine, pure want wracked through her and it was becoming too much. Dizzied. Heart racing. A high pitched whine escaped her.

Mihawk pulled back, eyes dark as he grazed a hand along her cheek. His fingers pulled at the fabric she adorned. “Your clothes, dear, may I take them off?”

She nodded in agreement, then he swiftly pulled her dress over her head. Immediately her arms went to cover herself atop her bra but as his lips descended onto her neck, moving to her collarbone, the tickle of his beard and soft words against her skin; she let him remove it too.

Every touch had her on fire. Every stroke and every kiss felt like she was drowning in a vast pool of molten lava as Mihawk worked his way down. Oh how right this felt as he pulled off her panties, kissing her inner thighs. Though nerves flitted in her ribcage, she felt safe with him, certain of this path more than ever before.

“Do you want me to keep going, dove?”

“Yes, please.” She responded immediately, blood rushing to her cheeks as she watched him dropping back to his knees between hers. To be bare in front of a man like this, made her flush and her mind race. But Mihawk was shirtless, his slacks discarded as well, how lovingly his golden irises stared up at her; she felt reassured.

Every inch of her skin shuddered beneath his continuous touches, how his fingers drew slow and teasing circles along her thighs only to stop along her creases as her breathing quickened. Sabine squirmed, heat pooling in her loins as she tried to wade through the new feelings that erupted within.

Mihawk liked how she begged, loved it really; a shiver went down his spine as his name rolled lustfully off her tongue. He was building her up but his patience was thinning, for how he was desperate to taste her, to claim her as wetness pooled at her entrance.

His eyes flickered up to hers one last time, checking to see if any doubt clouded them, but there was not. Only awe as she waited for him to continue. “I’ll take care of you my love, don’t be afraid to stop me.” She seemed to relax at that, Mihawk couldn’t hold back any longer as his tongue ran across his bottom lip.

Sabine’s taste intoxicated him, the sound of her cries ignited a flame within. His tongue danced circles over her swollen clit, studying how she reacted to every movement. The fervent moans reaching his ears was like music, it spurred him on as a low groan built in his chest. He burrowed his tongue inside her, swirling and sucking so he could hear her pleas. And when his first finger breached her walls, she gasped, hand shooting down to grasp his other, she gripped onto him any where she could as he pumped his middle finger in and out.

Any further composure she had melted as he sucked harshly on her clit, adding another finger inside of her. She gasped as her vision turned spotted, her hips involuntarily rocking against his hand for more. More. She needed him as her lungs filled with air, though never feeling quite enough. Mihawk curved his knuckles that hit a spot that made her cry out, a shudder overtaking her whole body. She was sure she was seeing Heaven as he stretched her out adding another finger, a fresh pain turning to rapture as his name rolled off her tongue.

“Mihawk!” She practically sobbed as a wave cascaded over her, as her loins snapped and an orgasm wracked through her. A blissful moment where all she saw was stardust, all she could breathe was his name.

He helped her come down, carefully kissing along her thighs, cooing sweet words she hadn’t known him capable of. How he captured her in a heated kiss, his tongue pressing past her lips to claim her. Her body jerked and writhed against him, the haze finally disappearing from her head so she could see him clearly. Golden eyes held her own, her chest seized with emotions of love.

“Tell me if it gets too much.” Mihawk kissed her forehead before he stripped himself of his boxers. It was his last layer between them as he situated himself between her legs. His cock was long and girthy, he fisted it in one hand with slow strokes as he admired her. The sheen of sweat along her skin, her blissed out face with wet lashes, eyes swirling with lust.

His cockhead prodded at her glistening entrance, letting it run up and down her folds leaving her gasping with each touch. Eventually he lined his tip up with her after she begged him not to torture her, grunting as he entered her.

Sabine was a whimpering mess as the first fourth of his cock was swallowed by her constricting walls. A dull ache deep in her core by the sudden intrusion, she grit her teeth, nails dug into his biceps to ground herself. Her head spun as she wound tighter and tighter, before she snapped and pleasure hit her. It felt like he was splitting her in two, like she was standing on the edge of the world waiting to spill over from the pleasure that slammed into her. But it was him that pulled her back, pulled her back to reality as his cock dragged out of her velvet walls and pushed back in.

She moaned, breathless as she half heartedly begged for more, unsure if she could even take more. Lashes fluttered furiously as she saw stars, as she did not think she could take the pressure and pleasure that built up. The static in her lower tummy, the spurred emotions that flit through, the practical pain that made her cry out. How it built and built, and built.

A mindless smile was plastered on her lips. Her fingers grazed along every inch of his skin, every inch that was available, making her insides flutter. To see him like this, clothes off, their bodies intertwined, their souls as one made her feel on fire; an all consuming one she wished to never go out.

Sabine’s eyes were half lidded the further, the harder her fucked her, uncaring for her pleas to slow down. His hips moved as he was needy, as she was needy, as their moans intertwined and their bodies did too. Mihawk readjusted himself between her legs, slamming harder against her pelvis, causing his thick cock to hit parts of her she did not know existed. For he was so deep that her mind exploded, her limbs erupted in goosebumps, eyes rolled back into her head, and she writhed against him. Breathless cries falling from her lips. Half moon marks along his skin from where her nails dug.

“Take me, my love.” Mihawk breathed unsteadily. Oh how he knew he would live for every reaction, every gasp, every jerk of her body. Nothing would ever impact him the way this did, becoming one with Sabine. His grunts, his moans, it was all for her.

Their lips meshed in a desperate fashion, like the other would die if separated. Sabine felt herself approaching a high once again, incessant gooey pleasure spreading throughout. A coil tightening. Vision blurring. Mihawk relished in the sight of her like this; beautiful, naked, flushed, and crying out for him. His cock fucking into her depths, disappearing each time their hips flushed as one.

Mihawk gripped her hips as he readjusted her legs, pushing them so her ankles upwards towards her head. She gasped. He was deeper than before, she let out a shuddering sob as her fingers gripped his biceps harder. Sabine cried out nonsense as a wave overtook her, as it slammed against her bringing her beneath it. Her second orgasm consumed her, snatching the air from her lungs like she was drowning in it. Mihawk picked up the pace as she pulsed around him, cunt all swollen and tight as he swore he was seeing white, his own high closing in. Cock twitching, several long thrusts, he let out a few grunts, profanity slipping past his lips as he crushed his mouth back onto hers. He cradled her from how he laid on top supporting himself. Her legs limply circled around his waist as his cock released within her, filling her up.

Vulnerability shone in her eyes. Lips red, parted as they focused in on his face. Mihawk kissed her forehead, slowly nuzzling down to reach her lips. A gasp escaped her as she felt his cock pull out of her. He listened to the rapidness of her pulse, of how her heart hammered in her breast as her chest heaved up and down. How that in his arms it began to lull, she found solace and comfort in him, which made his own chest fill with an unfounded emotion, something that felt so strong yet he could never put a word to it. He held her, and she held onto him, as if they could be separated at a moment’s notice.

“Sabine?” His deep voice sent shudders down her spine.

A pink flush came over her, a sense of embarrassment flaring inside as she could not bring herself to meet his gaze. Realizing they lay naked, of the things they did– she felt no regret, but worry, of insecurity towards herself as if she were baring more than her naked body. Sabine moved to cover her breasts as they shifted.

“You are beautiful.” He murmured huskily, as if able to read her thoughts.

Sabine was certain her face was bright red. But she still melted into his hold, basking in how her skin erupted in goosebumps as his lips fanned along the skin between her neck and collarbone. The neatly trimmed hairs of his beard made her giggle, “I suddenly feel… shy. Perhaps I should go clean myself-”

“Let me help.” It was as if she would go nowhere without him. Like it was his duty to see to her afterwards and it made her insides bubble, a strangeness that she had not expected from a man.

She had no experience with this, nor did anyone at the Monastery talk about it if they did. Apparently foolishly she thought when the actual actions of sex were done the man and woman just… went on their own ways as if it had not happened. Sabine had never seen her parents be intimate in the sense of kisses or hugs. So the fact Mihawk did not seem to want to move past sex, but to bask in it as he cared for her was almost too much for her pour heart! Everything felt warm, her extremities tingling all the way from her toes to the top of her head.

That was how she found herself in a bath with him; a large porcelain tub with steaming water and the washroom fogging with the scent of lavender. There with her back to his chest as the soapy water covered her breasts, listening to the constant rhythm of his heart, their fingers intertwined. Her head rested back, lashes fluttering as she craned her neck just so to gaze at him. Defined cheekbones, striking eyes, his full lips calling to her…

“You’re certain you want me?” The words slipped past Sabine’s lips before she could catch herself.

He did not miss a beat. “Yes. I meant the words I said then and I continue to mean them now. You have become the very thing my heart beats for, allow me to care for you always.”

And she knew he did mean them, for his actions showed it louder than any words could. How he became a constant. How he cared for her, how she showed up for her, never did he leave any room for true uncertainty to creep in. She realized even the months they were apart, she had never once doubted that they would be reunited. That he would find her no matter what sea she was in or which island she were on.

Sabine turned hesitantly in the water, bracing her hands on his chiseled chest and planted her lips to his.

posted: february 20 2025

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