melancholymetropolis - Tumblr blog

melancholymetropolis · 1 month

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Exchange pt. III

plot: In which Gojo and Y/N wake up together and have morning sex

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Porn with Feelings

warnings: unedited (mostly). PORN PORN PORN!!!!!!!!!! (This is kinda stand-alone piece) safe sex. oral sex (f receiving). light choking. multiple positions. fingering. squirting. PIV SEX. pet names (sweetheart, sweetness, darling, etc.) multiple orgasms. LAUGHING DURING SEX. lowkey rom com vibes. play wrestling.

song association: Fetish by Selena Gomez

a/n: don't fight me! I come with smut (3k words worth)

w.c: 4.6k

part(s): Part I Part II

A head of unruly, white hair rested comfortably on my chest. Gentle breaths eased out of the owner's nostrils as he slept peacefully. Parted, pink lips were left slightly ajar and pushed out a deep breath every so often. A pool of drool fell from the mouth as well. It created a medium size spot on my tee shirt. His strong arms were wrapped around my midsection and one of his legs was resting between mine. Saturo held onto me like I was his lifeline. The very oxygen gracing his lungs. Even in his sleep, the man couldn't fake his affection for me.

My hand found his hair moments later. My fingertips caressed the thick, full locks tenderly. He was truly something of a fairy tale. His face was almost angelic in the low light. It kissed his pale skin like a lover and embraced him with a fondness I knew all too well. Wispy, white lashes graced his drowsy eyes. My hand lowered from his hair and to his cheek. My fingers brushed against the smooth, clear skin of the area.

“Keep touching me like that,” Saturo grunted, nuzzling my chest. “And I'll get the wrong idea.”

A soft smile fell onto my lips. “And what idea is that?”

“That you're falling in love with me.” Amusement dripped from his voice like a faucet.

I playfully swatted the top of his head. “Oh shut up!”

He lifted his head from my chest in one swift motion. His blue eyes sparkled in the low light and that sleepy smile stabbed me in the heart.

Holy fuck is he gorgeous, I found myself thinking.

“Admit it, sweetheart,” he teased. “You’re falling in love with me. I mean why else would you invite me to your bed.”

“Maybe because it was 3 AM when we finished eating?” I suggested, a smile falling to my lips. “And you shouldn’t be driving while exhausted?”

He paused, pretended to think for a minute, before shooting me the cockiest fucking look I had ever seen in my life. “It could be that,” he started. “Or, you were just so worried about your husband’s well being that you wanted him to sleep safely in your arms for the night.”

“Boy, bye!” I chuckled, pushing against his shoulders. “Now you’re dragging it.”

Saturo lifts his body from mine and I instantly felt a cooling sensation dance between the space.

“Come on, wifey,” he grinned. “You don’t have to hide feelings from your husband.”

I shoved at his shoulders again. “Keep talking like that and I’m gonna kick you off the bed.”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try,” he provoked.

A knowing smirk fell on my lips. “Challenge accepted.”

Before Saturo could throw a snide comment my way, both of my legs hooked around his waist. At the same time, my arms latched underneath his pits. I swung our bodies to the left, effectively switching our positions. I straddled his waist, allowing my lower half to pin his legs to the bed. I placed both hands on his T-shirt covered chest and pinned his upper half down as well. His blue eyes widened with utter astonishment, fear and a little something else I couldn’t exactly catch.

“Fuck, you’re stronger than I thought,” he gasped, eyes trailing over my body. His chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace. “I was not expecting that. Like at all…. Shit. I think you took my breath away. Literally.”

Laughter erupted from my chest and poured from my lips. “Well, there's a first time for everything.”

His hands rested on my thighs, a look of amazement still on his face. “Seriously, sweetheart, is there something you're not telling me.”

“Like what?” I giggled.

“I don't know. . . Like maybe you have a secret second life that requires you to be as strong a fucking body builder.”

“Seriously, ‘Toru, you're being ridiculous.”

“I'm not being— wait. What did you just say?”

I raised an eyebrow. “That you're being ridiculous?”

“Before that,” a smile slowly formed on his face.

“Seriously?”

“After that.”

“I didn't say anything—”

“Don't deny it, sweetness,” the smile was so wide that it practically covered half of his face. “You called me by my first name.”

“I did no such thing!” I crossed my arms over my chest and playfully avoided his gaze.

“Not only that,” he replied, lifting his back from the bed. “You gave me a nickname.”

“No I did not—ah!”

Saturo flipped our bodies back to their original position, with him on top. His massive hand took hold of both of my wrists and pinned them above my head. His knees rested on either side of my thighs, caging my body underneath his. Saturo used his other hand to cradle my face and direct my gaze directly into his eyes. They were electric blue, once again. They shined brightly before me in a way I had only seen twice before. Once at the wedding and the other last night in the restaurant. They searched my face for something I couldn't necessarily pick up. Some truth hidden beneath the surface that I was too scared to reveal. The longer he stared, the deeper the ringing in my ear sounded.

“Say it again,” his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Say what?” I smirked, pulling at my wrists.

“Playing coy is gonna get you in trouble, sweetheart,” he replied, returning my smirk. “I'd watch it if I were you.”

“And what exactly are you gonna do, Ole husband of mine?” I replied, a lustful glint in my eye. “Spank me?”

His jaw clenched and the grip on my wrists tightened. “Please don't threaten me with a good time, sweetness.” He shivered, visibly. “I'll have you on my lap before that cute little nickname leaves your lips a second time.”

“Is that a promise?” I said, allowing my eyes to drop half lidded.

Saturo sucked in a breath and he clenched his jaw. “I am trying my best to behave. To be the gentleman you deserve. But all I can think about is burying myself in that sweet pussy and fucking you until the next sun rise. So, please, darling, don't tease me. My meager heart cannot take it.”

The desire burned in his eyes like sunshine through a magnifying glass. Point it at just the right angle and the object underneath would catch fire. The object or, more specifically, the person underneath said magnifying glass happened to be me. His gaze was beginning to set my body ablaze. Flashes of our last entanglement flickered through my mind like an old film. The heaviness of his body against mine as he pumped into me like a piston. The feeling of his tongue on my skin and how he groaned my name. I remember the way my nails scraped against the wooden headboard behind us. Remembering the rhythmic banging had sent me shivers down my spine. The look on his face made my womanhood tingle. He was remembering that night too. The evening my shins shook violently on his shoulders and he came so hard his entire body convulsed.

It was also the last night we spent together before the wedding.

The same night I left him.

A subtle pain started to throb in my chest from the memory. The guilt slowly threatened to consume me. I reassured myself that I knew better, currently. I knew that the white haired above me was more than just a vacation fling. More than just a cheap thrill to distract me from the tipsy bride-to-be and the plastered bridesmaids. He was a good guy, underneath that silly demeanor. He was thorough. Saturo weighed every option presented to him before coming to a conclusion. He was consistent. When he finally chose said option, he would try his hardest to see it through. He was passionate. There wasn’t a challenge he couldn’t overcome. A person he couldn’t charm. Myself included.

“Left nightstand,” I found myself saying, a subtle smile on my lips. “Top drawer.”

“What’s in there?” A confused look colored his face.

“Condoms.”

The confused look morphed into three different expressions as the realization of what I said hit him. The first being shock. His eyebrows rose and his grip on my wrists loosened. The words rising over in his brain several more times before it morphed into a look of adoration. Saturo’s eyes eased halfway closed and a small smile formed on his lips. His shoulders relaxed and the grip he had on my wrists was forgotten. A gentle hand cupped my cheek before the final expression took over his face: unadulterated joy. He leaned his body down and pressed his forehead to mine. I could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. Singing a song I was quickly learning the lyrics to. His hot breath fanned my face and his eyes looked deeply into mine; as if he could see my soul. See how it was opening up for him and how it searched for him after all this time.

“Can I kiss you?” The question was breathless on his lips. Almost like the moment we were having wasn’t real. Almost as if I weren’t real.

“Please.”

The softness of his lips melted the ice covering my defenses. My arms wrapped around his neck and I started to pull Saturo closer. The weight of his body broke down the walls I eradicated to keep him out of my heart. His touch pulled away the feelings of confusion and uncertainty. He moaned against my lips; his arms so tightly around my body I could barely breathe. I could barely form a thought, other than the one that we seemed to share.

I want you.

When the need of oxygen became prevalent for the both of us, I pulled away. My eyes were blurry with lust and I could hear myself panting like horny teenager after such an embrace. Saturo’s hot mouth continued to lay kisses along my neck and shoulder. His hips dropped from the levitating position and situated themselves between my open legs. Saturo arched his back, almost like a feline, and started to grind his pelvic area against mine. The clothes and blanket between us did nothing to hide the intensity of his erection. The teasing thrusts of his hips were sending shivers down my spine, the anticipation of what was to come driving me up the wall.

A warm hand wiggled between our two bodies and slid underneath my shirt. The wide palm pressed against the soft tissue of my left breasts before giving it a squeeze. At the same time, the bastard ran a hot tongue against the side of my neck. I moaned as a result. His fingers found the nipple instantly. Saturo ruled the bud between his fingers, while leaving little nips at my shoulder.

“Care to help me out, sweetness?” He asked softly.

His voice was deep with sleep, but had been coated with lust.

Saturo’s half opened blue eyes looked down at me as if I were hiding something.

The ghost of a smile on his perfect pink lips had me melting in the middle.

“Yes. . . ?” Was all I could mutter after staring at him for a noticeable amount of time.

“Take your shirt off for me, baby,” he replied, the humorous look on his face growing into a full-blown grin.

As I lifted the shirt over my head, a thought appeared in my mind. Saturo was not the kind of person to pressure me into doing things I didn't want to do. Sure, in the beginning, he was a little shit about hanging out and getting to know me— though he never forced me to do it. Nor did he guilt trip into going out with him. Saturo gave me an option. He made it known that it was always my choice to have whatever relationship I wanted with him.

My hands gripped the bottom of the T-shirt and pulled the garment from my body. The cool air in the bedroom caused me to shiver slightly. The man above me froze the moment he caught sight of my bare breasts. His eyes rolled over them like water on a leaf as his tongue ran against his bottom lip. Saturo brought his face to my chest while panting. His mouth was already ready ajar while he gripped the first mound and brought the dark brown bud to his lips. We both moaned at the action. His eyes fluttered closed as he suckled the needy nipple. After a few moments, he released it with a pop and started to swirl his tongue against it. I squirmed beneath him. I wanted nothing more.

His warm hand slid down my bare belly as he switched to the other nipple. The slender fingers shimmied under the waistband and found my sticky womanhood. Two digits ran along my slit before dipping into the folds and circling my bud. A pleasurable sigh left my body from the sensation. My hips rolled against his hand. The friction was utterly delicious on the neglected area. I felt my body vibrate beneath his; the desire to be consumed by him becoming too great to ignore.

A little while later, Saturo lifted his head from my breast and started to kiss down my navel. His eyes flickering up to meet mine every so often. I nervously nipped my bottom lip as I watched his face grow closer to my cunt. His hands pulled at the legs of the sleep shorts; I raised my hips to assist in the action. The cool air on my warm cunt made me shiver. An unholy groan left Saturo’s lips as his eyes stared at the curly mound.

“No panties, huh?” His eyes snapping back to mine.

“I hardly ever sleep with them on,” I admitted with a shrug.

“Noted,” he said with a smirk.

Saturo, then, spread my legs nice and wide to get a better view. I saw his breath hitch at the sight. His thumb ran against the slick slit and I moaned from the feather-like strokes. He pushed my hips apart further and brought my body closer to the edge of the bed. With knees planted on the floor and both hands planted on the backs of my thighs, Saturo dove right in.

Long, slow licks graced my neglected folds and I shuddered beneath him. The tip of his plush tongue ran from my drenched center to the throbbing pearl. He circled said pearl with agonizingly slow movements that made me squirm.

“Stop teasing,” I purred, gently combing through his messy hair. “I thought you wanted to bury yourself in my sweet pussy, or whatever you said earlier.”

A low chuckle rumbled through him and Sauro’s eyes caught mine. “Aren’t we impatient, sweetness?” He nipped at the side of my thigh, earning a smile from me.

“Well, it has been a while since you performed your husbandly duties. . .” I trailed off with a knowing smile.

“Oh?” Saturo raised an eyebrow. “So I am your husband now?”

“I mean, you could go back to being my cheap whore,” I teased, propping myself up on my elbows. “I’ll give you a few bills before I send you away.”

“I knew you did that shit on purpose!” Saturo barked with laughter.

“It wasn’t my intention, but I am not denying the allegation.”

Saturo swatted my leg playfully before throwing me a stern look. “Just for that, I should leave you like this. Hot and bothered.”

“You could,” I nodded. “But, you won’t.”

Saturo narrowed his eyes. “. . . I won’t.”

“Good boy.”

His mouth was on my heat once more, sucking the throbbing pearl into his scorching mouth. The teasing was over and the real game began. As Saturo sucked, the tip of his tongue brushed against the underside of my clit every so often. I squirmed beneath him as the pleasure rose in my belly. He must’ve remembered our last time together. The way I creamed all over his face when did that exact movement with his tongue on my womanhood. A flash of something familiar crossed his eyes and watched an arm wrap around my right thigh, as two fingers brushed my entrance. As if to ask for permission.

“If you add those digits, darling, I’m gonna make a mess of that pretty face.” I sighed, attempting to sound unenthusiastic about the action. “I hope you’re prepared for that.”

The taller gentleman groaned against my cunt, but never removed his mouth from it. He pushed both fingers into my awaiting hole and I sucked in a breath. The digits curled in my sex and found the familiar spongy center at the roof of it. My thighs shook in his arms. Saturo massaged the area with a firm hand. He kneaded my g-spot into submission and I felt body start to vibrate underneath him.

“Oooh. . .” I cooed, brushing his hair from his eyes. “Just like that. . . Don’t stop. . .”

Saturo groaned again, his eyes half-closed as he looked up at me.

He was truly enjoying himself, more than he assumed possible.

His desire, like mine, tainted the air with its sweet music. I could hear them clearly, despite the amulet hanging from my neck. The energy he oozed was far more powerful than anything I had previously encountered. It bellowed out to me in such a way that it was hard to ignore it. The ringing in my ear was subtle, almost like a whisper from a lover. A warm pool in my stomach started to grow. One by one, my limbs grew unfeeling. I could feel absolutely nothing by Saturo’s mouth on my pussy. My eyes started to roll back as my back arched from the bed. My nails dug into the bed sheets as my mouth hung open. The climax was deep and guttural. It pulled a sound from my being that I did not recognize. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until the pressure in my chest grew too great. I had to force a giant wave of cool air to flood my lungs as I cried out Saturo’s name. I felt my legs shake against his face, as he continued to suck my clit.

“Too much!” I gasped, nudging his head away from my sensitive womanhood. “Stop! Please. . .”

Saturo removed his lips from the aching bud and pressed wet kisses on my soft stomach. He crawled up my body and took me in his arms. He held me tightly as the aftershocks of the orgasm started to wear off. With my back pressed against his chest, I felt myself relax almost instantly. His presence was certain as the sunrise and it warmed me immensely. We laid in silence for several moments, but it wasn’t awkward. It was peaceful. I could’ve stayed like that forever.

The taller gentleman pulled away for a breath moment. Moments later, I heard the familiar slide of the nightstand’s drawer open. Followed by that was a gentle crinkle of plastic and then a soft hiss fell from his lips. Saturo’s arms were around me before my body grew cold. He pressed hot kisses on my naked shoulder, before pressing his hard length on my bare ass.

“Are you still up for this, sweetness?”

“Yes,” I replied, breathless.

The throbbing member sank into my center from behind and I swore I saw stars. His strong arm hooked across my middle to steady himself. His hips rolled against my plush rear and soft moans spilled from his lips afterward. The weight of his body on mine and the feeling of his breath against my ear was indescribable. The thoughts spinning in mind were in one category: adoration. Maybe it was the dopamine and adrenaline creating a toxic cocktail on my emotions, but all I could think about was my future with Saturo. The way our mornings could be just like this one. Filled with sensual love-making and intimacy that made my head spin. The way he cradled by body as he thrusted into me was exhilarating. He held me like I was going to disappear at any moment.

After a short while, he hiked my left leg into the arm and hooked his arm around my thigh. Saturo tilted his hips backward and started to thrust into me a little bit harder. My shoulders fell into the crook of his arm as my back pressed against the soft mattress. His cock moved deeper into my cunt and pressed a pleasure point I had forgotten I had. My eyes rolled back and the air in my throat grew thick. My nails dug into his forearms as I felt my toes curl.

“There it is,” Saturo snickered. “That’s the face I am looking for.”

“ ‘Turo. . .” I moaned, my head falling back onto his shoulder.

He shuddered from the sound of the nickname and moved his hips faster against my ass.

My eyes rolled back as I felt the pressure in my belly grow once more. My nerves were buzzing and started to feel my body begin to heat all over. The sensations coursing through me were simply incredible and I didn’t want them to end. I never wanted to be separated from the feeling Saturo, my husband, was giving me.

Gradually, the thought of being married to him did not repulse me. It ignited a sort of excitement within me that I kept hidden from the public eye. To have such a biblically beautiful man on one’s as we simply lived life would greatly boost anyone’s ego. For that same man to be downright obsessed with everything about me was something entirely different. The passion he had for me was simply extraordinary. The sweet words that fell from his lips as he fucked me tenderly had made my heart sing. The heat from his body and the power that surrounded him was simply ethereal. All reasonable doubt slipped from my mind the longer the thrusted into me. All I could think about was Gojo Saturo and coming home to his girthy cock every night.

One by one, I felt my limbs go numb and my body stiffen. Keep, harsh breaths poured from my lips as my eyes squeezed shut. The feeling of his cock slipping against my walls had broken through the numbness. I could feel said walls begin to contract, squeezing his member tightly as I climaxed. A gush of cool air filled my lungs as my body melted into his.

“Don’t stop!” I screamed, gripping his arm tightly. “Please don’t stop. . . oh God. . .”

The second wave of the orgasm made my entire body shake against his. My hips bucked against his thick member and my thigh shook in grasp. The older gentleman tried everything to keep the slippery limb from his grasp, but to no avail.

Frustrated, Saturo rolled my stomach and wrapped a hand across my chest. He pressed his entire body against my back, before putting a hand on my throat. Upon pressing his hips against my ass, I realized that his cock was even deeper than it was before. Saturo started to rock his hips against my soft ass and I had never felt something so marvelous in my entire life. The pressure in which he used to fuck me was unholy. The head of his brilliant cock was hitting a pleasure point so deep in my pussy that I was sure that the other lover knew it existed. The weight of his body pushed my pelvis nearly flat against the mattress and added pressure to my stomach. Just between my thighs I felt something rather fluffy nestled right against my apex. The cushioned item slid against my throbbing clit with each thrust and I felt my entire body shiver.

I had no idea when Saturo shoved a pillow between my thighs, but I knew the move was far from a mistake.

“You are so… fucking… perfect,” He stammered, pounding into slick pussy like his life depended on it. “The best. . . person. . . for me.”

Saturo’s grip on the bedsheets tightened and I felt his hips begin to twitch against mine.

He was getting close.

“Tell me,” I said, breathless. “Tell me that you're mine.”

Soft curses fell from his lips as the fingers on my neck tightened. Jagged breaths fell from his lips as his hips moved faster against my lower half. The heaviness of the member pushed against the roof of cunt. Added with the weight of his body against mine meant that Saturo was annihilating two of my pleasure points at once. The addition of the pillow meant that he was three. I couldn’t even feel the last orgasm building as I felt with the prior two. The lovely man was simply taking me onto an ongoing wave of pleasure, equipped with peaks and valleys.

The grinding of his body against mine was mind-numbing. I could feel little dribbles of drool spill from the side of my mouth as he fucked me. Incoherent words spilled from my lips like a drunk prayer, along with a few slurred sprinkles of his name. I never wanted that moment to end, I never wanted him to stop pounding me into the mattress as the late morning sun illuminated our sweat soaked bodies. I wanted the moment to last forever. I wanted to stay with him forever; for in that moment he was truly mine.

My friend.

My lover.

My. . . husband.

The orgasm poured over me like a soothing wave. It was just as deep as the other two, but didn’t have such violent muscle tension. My eyes squeezed shut as I rode on the high. It made my entire body warm and my heart tingle. It made me thankful for the impulsive decision to invite him into my apartment and into my bed. I almost scolded myself for not doing it sooner. The heavy member still pressed against the inflated, spongy area in my cunt. Every thrust had sent electricity throughout my body. The little control that Saturo was holding onto slipped through his fingers. The power behind his thrusts grew elevated and resulted in him practically dropping his cock in my awaiting hole. The movement further stimulated my sensitive clit, since his heaviness caused my womanhood to have even more contact with the pillow. My pearl ground against the plush surface hard as Saturo fucked me deeper than before.

“I’m gonna cum again!” I screamed, pulling at the sheets. “I’m gonna cum again!”

“That’s it, baby,” Saturo grunted. “Scream for your husband.”

His fingers pressed deeper into the sides of my neck as my eyes rolled back for the millionth time. The word ‘yes’ spilled from my lips as if it were the only word in the dictionary. I could feel my legs shake violently beneath him and my mouth open wider than it ever had. A warm pool of liquid started to spill from my sticky cunt shortly after, resulting in a small puddle forming between my thighs. The scream that left my throat was so intense that it was silent. I could feel the massive man above me begin to shudder uncontrollably as his heavy member twitched within my snatch. His body fell onto mine in a sweaty heap and Saturo took a moment to catch his breath.

His hand slipped from my throat and he laced the digits with my shaky one. He pressed soft kisses onto my shoulders as I caught my breath.

“I am yours,” he replied, finally acknowledging my request. The one I nearly forgot. “As you are mine. Forever”.

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a/n: before you come for me (pun intended), just know that the next installment may not be the happiest.

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TAGLIST

@amajikisupremacy @sweetdreams-inumimi @reagan707 @wannabeotaku @hazzelle-kento @rav3nmuse @maliamaiden @@satoruontopofme

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melancholymetropolis · 2 months

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Loving the exchange series ! Y/N’s and Gojo’s relationship is adorbs and the way he treats her is so nice and gentlemanly like as you should boy ✨

Thanks so much!

Underneath that chaos demon persona, I think he's a real gentleman. Just what Y/N needs at that moment.

#asks #asked and answered

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melancholymetropolis · 2 months

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Now.... would y'all fight me if I said I had a zutara inspired fic in mind? be honest

#chubby!reader #chubby reader #black reader #asks #zutara #zuko #katara

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melancholymetropolis · 2 months

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Exchange pt. II

plot: In which Gojo makes a late night phone call to his wife.

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Second Chance; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited (mostly). This is the fluffiest fluff I have written in the while. TEASING. Gojo is a comedian. SWEARING. use of AAVE (y/n is black as hell. wears a bonnet and everything). longing. Argument (no name calling). RAISED VOICES. sad boi gojo. guilty reader. get ready for the feels.

song association: Don't by Bryson Tiller

a/n: ya girl has some good news!

w.c: 3.0k

part(s): Part I

Upon shutting off the apartment’s showerhead, I could hear my phone buzzing in the distance. I wrapped my towel around my body and took swift strides back to the bedroom. Lifting my glasses off my nightstand, I placed them on my face before picking up the device. Instead of it being a friend from overseas, not understanding the time difference, it was an idiot who understood it very well.

Gojo: pssss

Gojo: wifey. . .

Gojo: are you up??????

Y/N: It’s almost midnight. What could you possibly want?

Several moments after the message was sent, the phone started to ring.

Gojo was calling.

I rolled my eyes at the sentiment. Ever since our lunch several days before, the taller gentleman was borderline clingy. He texted me at any free moment of the day, asking me what I was doing and when I was free for our next hangout session. I’d always blow him off. Telling him I had a prior engagement with someone else. I would say that the bride needed me to help her with Honeymoon stuff or the Maid of Honor misplaced her work and I needed to help her look for it. I would use any and every excuse in order to avoid speaking to him for longer than I needed to. It was clear that Gojo intended to make up for lost time while I was in Japan. He took his proposal to hang out very seriously and wanted me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Part of me almost felt bad from blowing him. Gojo was mostly harmless in his delivery and didn’t pose any real threat to my lifestyle. He seemed to be very forgiving with my excuses and never pressed me for blowing him off. The only thing he ever did was send almost a dozen crying emojis and claim I was abandoning our child. Apparently we were having a little girl, which he named her Naomi.

Even though the white haired man was beyond ridiculous, he never failed to make me laugh.

I reached toward the nightstand for my wireless earbuds and connected them to the device. I placed one in my right ear and accepted the call.

“Sweetheart!!!” Gojo whined on the other line. “What took you so long to answer the phone? I could’ve died on the other line!”

“But are you dead?” I replied, rising from my seat on the bed.

“That’s not the point!” He exclaimed. “And besides, what are you doing right now anyway?”

I walked over to the vanity mirror and lifted my leg on the low bench. I twisted the lid from the cocoa butter and scooped some in my hands. “Well, I just got out of the shower and have started my skincare routine. Why?” I warmed the cream between my palms and started to glide it down my leg.

“How do you feel about going on a food run?”

“Right now?” I scooped more product into my palm.

“Yup!”

I switched legs and massaged the butter into my skin. The guilt of blowing him off was eating away at my being. Gojo seemed to be making a genuine effort to get to know me and I was shutting him off. I was never usually the person to deny someone’s efforts and often cheered for a job done well. As much as I wanted to treat him like everyone else, I realized I couldn’t; because he wasn’t like anyone else. He was my husband, at least on paper. From what I could tell, he was pretty kind and patient with me, despite his idiotic tendencies. Those feelings from Vegas started to reappear once again. They always came back harder the longer I shoved them down.

I started to rub the butter on my arms. “Let me guess, you’re having pregnancy cravings? Want me to buy you some pickles and ice cream?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of katsu sandos,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But ice cream sounds nice. Hold the pickles.”

I shook my head with a smile. “Okay, pregnant lady. If I do this, you better not expect anything from me to get dressed up for you. It’s too late for that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You are getting yoga pants and a goddamned sweatshirt. Better be lucky I am not wearing my bonnet outside.”

“Damn, you aren’t?” He pretended to sound shocked. “Now I gotta take mine off and fix my baby hairs.”

Explosive laughter erupted from my being and I felt myself hold onto the vanity to steady myself. “Gojo, what the hell do you know about baby hairs?”

“I know enough,” he conceded. “I am trying to do all my research now, so Naomi can have all the flyest hairstyles on the playground.”

“Gojo, get the hell off my phone with this mess,” I giggled. “You are too much.”

“I am just enough for you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I’ll text you the address to my apartment. Hurry your ass up before I change my mind.”

“Okay. Love you, boo!”

“Imma beat your ass.”

My eyes flickered to Gojo’s right hand. It rested on the arm rest between us and started to flex repeatedly. The silence between us was comfortable. It cuddled against our awkward bodies and almost became a second skin. This was the first time we were truly alone together in the past six months. There were no waiters asking for our order or any wandering eyes gazing upon us from the wedding party. It was simply just him and I; in a car, driving to god knows where, in the middle of the night. There was so much that could be said in that moment. So much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wasn’t ready and I had the feeling he felt the same way. It was easy to mask emotions in a crowd. It was easy to tell a joke to break tension and get a laugh out of company. Yet, it was extremely hard to be open with anyone you deemed dear. His eyes flickered over to me with such longing it made my heart ache. Those feelings from Vegas were flickering up once again and I tried to ignore them.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said with a smirk. “You look like a completely different person.”

I nervously readjusted the thick frames on my face. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a sexy way,” he answered, earning a scuff out of me. “I feel like this would be a bad time to mention I have a glasses kink.”

Laughter bubbled out of me and I found myself shaking my head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I am being so serious right now. Those glasses are doing things to me,” his eyes flickered over to me. “You are seducing with those thick frames and I am trying my best to behave.”

“Oh god, please stop,” I giggled. “How can I be seducing you in some leggings and a sweatshirt?”

“Baby, you could be wearing a plastic bag and I would rip that thing off with my teeth,” he replied with a wide smile. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart, and I will remind you of that every chance I get.”

My eyes flickered down to his lone right hand on the arm rest. The palm was soft pink and wide. There were callouses across pads of the fingers, almost like he played some sort of stringed instrument. Before I could stop myself, I felt my hand fall into his grasp. Electric sparks pulsed through my body as we touched. His grip on my hand tightened and his thumb rubbed against my knuckles. He pulled my hand gently to his lips and gave my fingers a kiss. A sweet smile fell on my lips at the embrace. My mind easing to a calm that wasn't there before.

Unlike any other union I had prior, Gojo didn't give me butterflies or bring a blush to my cheeks. He gave me a sense of ease that no one else had presented. In all my other relationships before him, platonic or romantic, someone had always wanted something from me. I had to fit a mold to solidify our relationship. I had to be the perfect daughter for my parents. The unpaid therapist for my friends. The forgiving partner to my ex lover. The cut throat divorce lawyer. I always had to fulfill a label and my personhood was seen as a performance to them. I was never simply Y/N. I could never truly exist amongst them.

That had been before I met Gojo.

He seemed to like me as I am. Actually, he encouraged me to authentically express myself. He didn't take it personally when I snapped at him. He was offended when I was coarse with him at the wedding, he simply adjusted his approach. Instead of being so direct, he became playful. Non-threatening. He was slowly making me feel comfortable around him. Easing the thick tension between us. The fear that I originally felt in the beginning had clouded my judgment. I couldn’t think clearly.

Sure, being married to a stranger is scary. There is a lot that could go wrong. However, if all had gone right in Vegas, and if we didn't live in two completely different countries, we'd probably be dating already. Gojo would have most likely met my friends. Spent a night at my condo. Made me breakfast the night after our sleepover. He probably would have invited me to his place the next weekend.

We'd already been 6 months in a sickly sweet relationship.

Would I have loved him by now?

“What's that look?” His husky voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. “I don't like that look. What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I just…” I trailed off, turning away from his gaze. “Just thinking is all.”

He hummed, unamused, and squeezed my hand again. “You don’t have to hide your thoughts from me, Y/N. I am a big boy, I can handle the heat.” Gojo kissed my fingers again. “And besides, in order to get through it, we have to talk about it.”

A shaky sigh slipped from my lips and I wiggled my hand from his grasp. I wrapped both arms around myself and turned my body away from him. My eyes quirked at the twinkling street lights and billboards of Osaka. My skin was bathed in a crimson light that directly reflected the internal wound that bled into my foul mood. There was a war happening within my head and I could barely present him with the cause of it. At least, not the true cause. There were so many things that I wanted to say, secrets that I wanted to tell him. However, I knew it was too soon. He was still a stranger. A man that I met a little more than a few times in the last couple of months. A friend of a friend— an acquaintance. It would be too easy for him to leave me if he knew the truth. The whole truth. It was the thing that made me leave my hometown and start over. The thing that made me cut my parents off and change my name. The thing that I shoved so far down that I ripped me apart when it reopened.

The car came to an eased halt and pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant. The open sign was flickering on and off, a marketing ploy. It wanted to draw people in to observe its beautiful open concept kitchen and glorious display of fresh ingredients. The tactic must’ve been a successful one, since the place was nearly packed at half past midnight. By the smile on their faces, I know the passengers were more than happy with their purchase. It made me want to try it.

A warm hand gripped my knee and gave it a firm squeeze. I felt my body tense from the pressure. I slowly turned to face the car’s driver. There was a noticeable frown situated on his face and a terrible look of worry situated between his brows. My silence had not made him happy. Not one bit.

His hand slipped into mine and he brought his knuckles to mouth for a kiss.

“Whatever you need to say or ask, I am right here,” he said quietly. “I will remain here for as long as you need me to be. You’ll always have my support.”

His bright blue eyes were poured into me; like hot water in a teacup. He was moments away from drinking me in.

A releasing a trembling sigh, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind since our lunch date.

“Why do you want me to remain your wife if our marriage was a mistake?”

At that moment, I watched his eyes dim. Their bright, exhilarating, electric blue faded to a gloomy navy that shook me to my core. Pain contorted his features into an expression I didn’t recognize. He had never expected those words to come out of mouth. Not after all the time we spent together. Not after the pact we made to at least “hang out”. Not after I made the first step to ignite an embrace just moments before. Reaching out for his hand had broken the stalemate between us. We were no longer adults navigating unknown territory, who were scared of the word “marriage”. It symbolized the potential for something else. It made room for something new to blossom between us. The beginnings of a new love story were on the horizon, at least before I called our union a “mistake”.

The painful look was still on his face when he spoke moments later.

“Our marriage is not a mistake,” he said just above a whisper. “Accidental, yes. It is no mistake.”

I waited a moment for him to explain.

“Mistake insinuates regret for said action; whereas an accident is an unlikely outcome. It has far less of a negative connotation than a goddamn “mistake”.”

He spat out the word like it was poison. His voice gradually rose with each word until it reached its normal volume. The pain on his face had shifted to a soft look of anger. He looked insulted that I would even use that word to describe our union. Utterly appalled that I would think he’d regret our marriage.

“I just. . .” He cut himself off, ripping his gaze from my face. “Do you really think I would want to hang out with you if I thought this marriage was a mistake?”

“Well. . . no”

“Do you think I'm some conservative wannabe that frowns upon divorce?” His eyes fell back on me, anger causing his brows to lower. “That I am trying to trap you and keep you hidden away from prying eyes?”

“Of course not!” I conceded.

“Then, what is it?” He snapped. “Because I’m really trying here. I get that this situation is not ideal for you, but I am trying my best to make it work, Y/N. It just seems like you don’t even care about me or what we had during that weekend in Vegas. You are so ready to give it up and leave everything behind. Leave me behind. Like everyone else.”

The last three words were quieter than a whisper. Somber and true. It made my heart ache and my mind buzz with worry. The little pieces that Gojo Saturo fed me about his life started to all make sense. He was the only child and the first in his whole generation to achieve a very specific goal. Power. What that power was— I had no idea. He didn’t go into detail, but I knew it was something he wore with pride. However, I knew that he wore it with regret as well. There was a weight on his shoulders that only he could carry. It seemed as though he was carrying the responsibilities of his whole family with him everywhere he went. He never had a break with his duties; they consumed his every waking moment. It made it hard for him to mingle, to date, to llsimply exist without a group of people breathing down his neck. The relationships he had made outside of his family never lasted, from what I could gather from his last sentiment. They stole too much of his attention for him to create anything meaningful with them. Just like a flower lacking water, the relationships would wither and eventually die; which left Saturo back at square one. Alone. Miserable. Unhappy.

A deep sigh erupted from his being as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. That was not okay and completely unlcalled for. Please forgive me, sweetheart.”

Without much of second thought, I found myself unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning toward him in my seat. My long arms encased around his slumped form and held him tightly. I felt his body immediately tense underneath my embrace. His limbs were stiff and unmoving, while his breath remained caught in his throat. He was not breathing. I squeezed him even tighter, forcing him to take a deep breath from the constraint. His body melted in my arms moments later. He pivoted his body towards the passenger seat and wiggled his arms from his side. Gojo raised the muscular limbs and engulfed me in what I could only describe as a bear hung. He held me as though I were meant to disappear at any given moment. As if someone would steal me away from this. From him. At that moment, I felt like I meant everything to him. As if I were his entire world. It made my soul weep.

A series of buzzing erupted from the glove compartment. A message flashed on the car's dashboard:

Order: 2333

Ready for pick up! Come to the takeout window with this text message.

"Your phone is buzzing," I said, lowering my head back to his shoulder.

He hummed in response.

"Our order is ready."

Gojo's arms wrapped around me tighter. "Can we. . . Can we stay like this? Just a little bit longer?"

I felt my body melt into his touch. "Of course."

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a/n: ya bitch got into grad school! which is why i haven't been posting!!! trying to figure out the financial aid situation, but it looks like we are going back to school in the fall! also, please please please tell me if you are feeling this series. i have another one in mind, but i am on the fence. also, let me know if you would like to be on the official taglist for this series!

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TAGLIST

@amajikisupremacy @sweetdreams-inumimi @reagan707 @wannabeotaku @hazzelle-kento @rav3nmuse

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melancholymetropolis · 2 months

Text

Exchange

plot: In which a Bridesmaid finds out she accidentally got married in Vegas months prior.

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Second Chance; Accidental Marriage

warnings: unedited (mostly). Golden Retriever/ Fox Au. Gojo is a goofball and makes Y/N laugh a lot. She is very much anti-marriage, but open to love. COMEDY. Couple's Banter. Lots of fluff. Gojo fell first and hard. New Love.

a/n: this will be a mini series with weekly updates.

w.c: 3.5k

“You have gotten even more beautiful since the day you left me.”

My eyes immediately widen from the sentiment. The air in my throat had become thick and my hands had begun to shake. I almost didn’t recognize his voice. Its cadence was a distant memory; one I had left behind months ago. In Vegas, of all places. It was the way he said “beautiful” that transported me back in time. It was the first thing he said to me. In a dark club, under neon lights and a cloud of smoke. He didn’t use basic, sexually charged words to get my attention. He was respectful, I liked that about him. He had been the only guy to introduce himself and offered to pay for my drink properly. He called me things like “beautiful”, “gorgeous” and “breathtaking”. Those three little words had meant more to me than whatever bullshit the other guys were doing.

His electric, blue eyes seemed to glow in the low light. They never wandered anywhere else but my face when we talked. He seemed genuinely interested in everything I had to say. From me saying that it was my first time in Vegas to how much I hated crowded spaces. I had only come to the club to celebrate a friend’s engagement and was labeled the designated driver for that night. If I recall, he said my job was “honorable” and applauded me for taking it seriously.

And, in an effort to make up for our lost drink, he gave me his number. Told me to call him when I was free.

Gojo’s eyes were just as I remembered. So bright and powerful— almost inviting to look into. He wore a navy blue suit to compliment the intimidating orbs and brighten his pale complexion. His unruly, white hair had been combed back with a singular curl setting in the middle of his forehead. The silver watch on his wrist looked heavy and vintage— possibly a family heirloom of some sort. I had forgotten how tall he had been. Even though I had worn six-inch heels, he still was a few inches taller than me. And I definitely was not a short woman.

“I left you?” I said, finally coming back to earth. “I don’t recall ever doing such a thing.”

A sly smirk began to form on his face. “Oh really?” He replied, taking slow steps towards me. “That’s mighty convenient on your end.”

“How so?”

“It relieves you of any guilt.”

A painful silence fell between us. Our eyes locked in a heated exchange, while our hands remained by our sides. I couldn’t deny the connection we had—couldn’t forget the spark.

“Bride or groom?” I asked, turning my back to him.

The tall man grew closer to me. He took his stance about two feet away from my spot on the balcony. He placed his forearms on the edge and leaned forward. There was a painful aura lingering above his head. Something was wrong. It was more than simply not seeing me for a few months. It wasn’t my habit of escaping in the middle of the night. It was complicated and conflicting.

“Groom,” he sighed, looking at the beautiful countryside of Japan. “I'm guessing you're here for the bride, given the Bridesmaid dress.”

I hummed in disagreement. “I know them both, actually. We worked at the same law firm for a couple of years. I believe I introduced them to one another, all those years ago.”

“Oh, okay,” Gojo snickered. “A divorce lawyer playing cupid. And I thought I saw everything.”

A quiet giggle fell from my lips. “That's right. Consider me a walking paradox.”

“That you are,” he replied sweetly.

The tension from earlier had broken and was replaced with a sense of familiarity.

It was nice.

A few breaths later, Gojo opened his suit jacket and pulled out a white envelope. He handed it to me.

I gave him a questionable look. “What's that?”

“Open it and you'll see,” was all he said before placing the envelope into my hand.

I lifted the tab and pulled out a folded piece of paper. At the very top was the letterhead for the Clark County Department of Records in Nevada State. The letter read:

Dear Mister Gojo Satoru,

We are pleased to inform you that your marriage license has been processed successfully and your certificate will be arriving at your residence in 3 to 4 weeks.

As of April 25, both you and Ms. Y/N L/N are legally m—

“Nope,” I said, folding the letter and shoving it back in the envelope. “No the fuck we aren't.” I handed it back to Gojo. “Over my dead fucking body.”

“You hate me that much, sweet pea?” he chuckled.

“I don't know you to hate you,” I replied, stuffing the envelope in my clutch purse. “And I would like to keep it that way.”

“You're breaking my heart, Y/N,” Gojo replied. His tone was still playful but there was a twinge of sadness in it. “Surely being married to me couldn’t be that bad.”

I scoffed and plucked a flute of champagne from the waiter’s tray. I took a big gulp of the bubbly beverage and sighed deeply.

Fate must've had something against me. I must've done something extraordinarily vicious in my past life to warrant such treatment. Marriage? The whole thing felt like a nightmare. I spent my whole life running from the false institution that was called “marriage”. It's a contract that almost always ends poorly. From spouses cheating on the other to emotional abuse and gaslighting— I had seen the most stable of unions crumble after a few decades. Families broken apart by secrets, betrayal and unfortunate circumstances. Men and women alike pleading for one more chance to correct their mistakes. And if that doesn't work, greed takes over. The desperate struggle for power between the couple and how it always ends badly.

Marriage wasn't something I was particularly fond of. I didn’t see my sentiment changing any time soon. Even if the tall drink of water before me was legally my husband.

I finished the rest of my beverage and placed it on a different waiter’s tray. I took several more deep breaths and turned my back to the white haired man.

The alcohol had sedated the raging storm of emotions swirling in my being. A somber feeling eased into my heart, but I quickly shoved it back down. The blasting music in the background had made it abundantly clear that we couldn't do this here. Not now. Not at my best friends’ wedding.

“I just need time to think this over. Figure out my next move,” I reached in my purse and pulled out a business card. I placed it on the railing. “Call me tomorrow afternoon and I'll tell you how I'd like to proceed.”

“Wait, Y/N—”

“Goodnight, Mr. Gojo.”

I didn't even look back as I walked away from him.

“Come on, Jessica,” I practically begged. “There has to be a way to end this shit sooner.”

“I hate to break it to you, Y/N,” my colleague sighed. “But there isn't. As you could imagine, a lot of people accidentally get married in Vegas. The number is close to about 50,000 couples. And a little less than half of them get their union annulled. Meaning, divorce court is overloaded with requests, follow ups and cases. If you file your paperwork today, you probably won't get a response for 1 to 3 months. Even then, the annulment might not even go through.”

“Because I was already married to him for six months without me knowing?” I said, pinching my nose bridge.

“Yup. To the judges eyes, it might not look like a mistake. He can still deny your annulment.”

My head was pounding and my mouth dry. An unknown fear started creeping up my spine. When I thought of the goals I set out for myself, for my life, marriage was never on the vision board. Especially not an accidental one. And definitely not one with a white haired, blue-eyed, Japanese man. However, he seemed to be awfully giddy about the union. Gojo sent upward of twenty text messages asking me how I was feeling or if I needed anything. He, also, suggested having lunch together to talk everything over.

I looked out the cab’s window, watching the restaurant come into view. The place was clearly exclusive and very expensive. The right side of the establishment was made entirely of glass, overlooking the ocean just below the cliff. The sun was high in the sky and the clouds danced across her warm light. Waiting patiently in the front of the establishment was a familiar flock of white hair. The taller man had been shrouded in black this time. His overcoat perfectly matched the crisp suit underneath. The stark white shirt seemed brighter in the light; it made his chest glow.

He looked entirely too perfect. As if he wanted to deflect my attention from something else.

“Okay, Jess,” I said, pulling my gaze away from him. “I would like to survey all my options before I make a final decision.”

“Take all the time that you need, Y/N,” she replied in a sympathetic tone. “I will assist you in whatever way I can.”

“Thank you,” I smiled. “I will ring you soon.”

The car came to a gentle stop at the restaurant’s doors and I quickly ended the call. I thanked the driver once more and opened the car’s door. I barely had time to place my high heel on the pavement before a flock of black appeared in front of my door. A pale hand flickered in the doorway with outstretched fingers. I could only see his glowing chest and black attire from that angle. Not his face. I swung my other leg out of the other vehicle and took hold of his hand. The taller gentleman takes a firm grip and aids me out of the cab. As I rise from the leather seat, my eyes ease up his glowing chest and broad shoulders. They cascade up his broad shoulders and slender neck. His sharp jawline was relaxed and his plump lips in a soft smirk. Round sunglasses rested on his nose, covering his electric eyes. His white hair was messily styled atop his head and, also, seemed to glow in the sunlight.

With my bag resting on my shoulder, I used my hand to close the car door behind me. Gojo held my hand tightly as he started to walk to the restaurant. The fingers were warm against my cool ones. It felt nice and. . . comforting. I didn’t have the desire to pull away from him. The realization we were still holding hands didn’t dawn on me until he dropped my mine.

“Let me take your coat, Mrs. Gojo.”

And just like that, the cocky bastard ruined a perfectly good moment with a couple of words.

I allowed him to slip my trench coat from my shoulders and settled in the seat before me. The taller gentleman slips off his jacket and takes the seat across from me. A toothy grin plastered on his lips as he eased the round sunglasses off his face. His eccentric eyes were already glued to my face. His gaze was unwavering. It was almost like he was waiting for me to say something in response to his little comment. The white haired man was ready for battle.

Unfortunately for him, I left my bulletproof vest at home.

“Do you come here often?” I asked, bringing a glass of water to my lips.

Those bright blue eyes flickered to my lips. They darkened at the sight of such glossy softness and lingered on them even after I had placed the glass back on the table. It was almost like he was in some sort of trance. Lost in a memory that he treasured and never wanted to part from.

I cleared my throat. “Mr. Gojo?”

“What gloss is that?” He questioned, abruptly breaking his gaze from my mouth.

“It’s from Juvia’s Place,” I answered with a raised eyebrow. “Why?”

“It just looks so good on you,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I want to buy you a lifetime’s supply.”

“You’re laying it on a bit thick there, don’t you think?

“That’s what you do when you’re on a date.”

“This is not a date,” I deadpanned.

“Sure it is,” Gojo chirped. “I mean why else would we be in such a romantic establishment.”

The wife joke seemed to be a warning shot in hindsight. The taller gentleman was trying to test the waters to see just how far he could push me. I left him stranded the day prior. In mid sentence. He was not able to plead his case, explain his side of the situation. I had laid my intentions out to him loud and clear. I wanted zero parts in this relationship. Our union was supposed to be limited anyhow. A vacation fling that went on a little too long for anyone’s liking. At least for my liking. The marriage was clearly a mistake and one I wanted to rectify quickly. However, any time I clearly displayed my disinterest in our union, Gojo was quick to deflect with a quip. That meant he wasn’t going to take anything I said or did seriously. I would have to approach this matter from a new angle.

I would have to play his game and play it well.

The waiter walked over to the table and set down our menus. “Is there anything I could get started for you?”

I hummed sweetly and looked over at Gojo. “What do you recommend? I’ve never been here before.”

The man’s chest practically swelled at the sentences. A new source of pride pumping through his veins. A sly smile fell on his lips as the words started to pour from his lips. In Japanese.

“What dishes do you have without shellfish? She’s allergic.”

The question caused my eyebrows to shoot up.

I didn’t remember disclosing that information to him. At least, in the past twenty-fours that we had reunited. That could only mean that he remembered the little tidbit I shared all those months ago. Six months to be exact. He carried that information with him for half the year, almost like he intended to use it again. His memory must’ve been impeccable, which was why he was able to recognize me at first glance at the wedding. Looking back, I didn’t even notice him until he approached me on the balcony. I had been seated with the rest of the wedding party, practically on a stage overlooking the venue and I still didn’t spot him. He would be hard not to notice. He was one of the only people I knew with stark white hair and was under the age of eighty. Along with those electric blue eyes that pierced me like a needle. The chemistry we had was undeniable and I knew we shared a mutual attraction to one another.

Would that be enough to have a fulfilling marriage?

The waiter skated away with our orders and Gojo’s eyes locked back with mine.

“So, how long are you in Japan for?” He asked, bring a glass of water to his lips.

“Originally, I was supposed to only stay two weeks for the wedding,” I answered, tapping my hand on the edge of the table. “But, a potential client just called and asked for a consultation. They are from New York but live in Japan temporarily. So, the answer is a little unclear for me at the moment.”

The taller gentleman sighed, amused. “It seems like I have a little bit of time before we part ways once again. The heavens have truly blessed me this time.”

“And just what do you intend to do with that information, Mr. Gojo?”

“I’d like to convince you to remain Mrs. Gojo for the rest of our days together.”

“As in for the time being? While I am in Japan?”

Gojo smirked at that comment. “As in for the rest of your life, sweetheart.”

I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest. “And how exactly are you going to get me to do that?”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His pink lips spread into a full blown smile. Those blue orbs sparkled dangerously as they flickered over my face. He seemed to be brimming with excitement. He wanted nothing more than to display his nefarious plan and keep me entangled in his spider’s web.

“Originally, I planned on going the traditional route,” he conceded. “Showering you in gifts, expensive dinners and maybe a romantic weekend trip to Nokonoshima Island.”

“Buying a woman’s love? That is very traditional.”

“I know, but you are not a traditional woman,” he observed. “You are a divorce attorney. You are used to men attempting to buy a woman’s affection.”

“Very true.”

“So I came up with a proposal.”

“Do tell.”

“As you said, you don’t know me to hate me. Which means you don’t know me to like me either. And I, personally, think I am pretty fucking awesome.”

I chuckled, loudly. “You’re that confident, huh?”

“I am. Which is why I am suggesting that, for however long you are in Japan, we hang out.”

“Hang out?”

“I would like to use this time to get to know each other. Continue what we started back in Vegas. Before you left me.”

“I didn’t leave you.”

The white haired man scoffed and leaned closer to me. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s not lie to each other. You practically ran your pretty booty out of my hotel room the moment the sun came up.”

“That’s not true!” I interjected with a smile.

“It is true! And you had the nerve to leave me a couple of twenties on the nightstand like I was sorta cheap whore you met on the street. I never felt so violated in my life.”

A fit of giggles burst from my lips, shattering the remaining wall we had between us.

“That was never my intention! I just felt bad for ripping the buttons off of your Armani shirt. So I gave you some cash for dry cleaning.”

“There’s no need to explain yourself, Y/N. Your message was loud and clear,” he sighed dramatically, leaning back in your chair. “I was just your sexy little secret for the weekend. No plans of marrying me. You just wanted to hit it and quit. Leaving me to deal with the pain of your absence alone. Not even a cover to keep me warm, just the memories of our last rendezvous.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” I laughed, shaking my head.

“However,” Gojo replied, completely ignoring my comment. “Unlucky for you, I have decided to get revenge by blackmailing you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“If you don’t hang out with me while you’re in Japan, I am gonna tell everyone you snore in your sleep.”

“I do not!”

“And you are a blanket hogger!”

“Blasphemy!”

“And you got me pregnant while we were in Vegas.”

A slew of laughter erupted from my being and I could feel tears beginning to prick the edges of my eyes. “ That is not even scientifically possible."

"It is so!" He laughed. "Why else would I have morning sickness and swollen ankles?"

"Gojo, please. I cannot breath. . . !"

"How could you attempt to abandon your child, Y/N?" He crossed her arms over his chest and playfully shook his head. "I am not fit to be a single mother and take care our baby alone."

"Well," I paused and attempted to catch my breath. "You should've just kept your legs closed and this wouldn't have happened."

The taller man let out a dramatic gasp and placed a hand to his chest. "Did you. . . did you just try to slut shame me? After you basically paid for my services? How dare you?"

I lifted a glass of water to my lips; a weak attempt to calm my explosive chuckles down. I gulped the cool drink down and placed the glass back on the table. In the same instance, the waiter started to place our meal before us. There had been a collection of small plates carrying different items on them. Some had stir-fried vegetables and garnish, while others had different kinds of sauces. The bigger plates had anything between sashimi and grilled fish to sauteed pork and beef. Once the waiters were done plating, our table was suited for royalty. All the different dishes came together to create a marvelous spread and their aromas were simply magical together.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little bit of everything,” Gojo replied, meeting my gaze over the food. “I hope that’s okay with you.”

Like a light switch, the playful (borderline pain in my ass) was tucked away from view and replaced with a dashing gentleman. Familiar feelings started to bubble in my chest. Ones I had tucked away months ago. A small wave of adoration danced between our beings. Along with attraction. The little exchange, our unorthodox banter, had lightened the tension that was between us since we reunited. It made room for why we were originally drawn to each other. His playful, almost youthful, side was almost like a cushion in my high-stress daily life. He breathed cool air into my hot tempered mind and gave me a sense of mental clarity I never experienced. It was easy for me to like him. To be attracted to him. To lust for him. But to love him?

That seemed like a different story.

“It’s perfect.”

---------

Part II

a/n: don't fight me y'all! i've been adulting something fierce. as previously mentioned, this will be a series and i will post updates regularly. if you would like to be on the official taglist, let me know.

302 notes · View notes

melancholymetropolis · 2 months

Text

“So you were just going to leave?”

His thick, raspy voice crawled from the doorway and into the partially packed office. “And not tell me a damn thing? Come on, princess. I know we have our problems, but this is a whole new low.”

Although his delivery was playful, I could feel the heat radiating off his massive form. I didn’t need to turn to face him to know that his fists were balled at his sides and his jaw was clenched. His footsteps barely made a sound on the polished floors as he moved from the doorway. Gradually closing the gap between us. He was testing the waters. The taller man knew we were both equally yoked when it came to temper; which was one of the many reasons I was leaving.

Instead of replying, I simply continued to fill up the massive box before me. It was labeled “Miscellaneous”. But, some of the items meant more than oxygen to me. Like the picture of when Japan won their first gold medal after being second in the entire world for three years. Fushiguro Toji had practically plastered his body next to mine in the picture. An arm curled around my waist and a hand on my thigh. Instead of looking at the camera, he was looking down at me. A sly smile on his scared lips. They said a picture was worth a thousand words, but the look on his face alone was worth a million. Every time I looked back at the image, my heart would leap from my chest. Tendrils of hope wrapped around my brain and breaths of longing filled my lungs. The look was confirmation that everything I had felt was not a game, nor was a piece of fiction. I hadn’t made it up in my mind; it was real.

The feeling was mutual.

He had been in love with me, as I was in love with him.

Had.

Was.

Two words that spoke the language of the past. Not the current or future tense.

Those feelings seemed to change after one fateful phone call from another woman. Another Olympic athlete from Japan’s track team. Tall, lanky and full of spark. On any other day, I would have been a fan of hers. I had seen her race and she was the fastest person in the country. She made running a hundred meters look easy. Even with sweat coating every inch of her body, the athlete was gorgeous. Not only that, she just was so sweet and had the softest voice. It made the news spewing out her mouth hurt just a little bit less than it would’ve if Toji had told me.

Not only were they dating for the past three months, but she was also pregnant.

One of those facts would have felt like a bullet wound to the chest on my best day. To have them transcribed to be minutes behind the other, it felt like my lungs stopped working. The pressure that built in my throat burned hotter than the sun and the tears that rolled from my eyes were practically steaming. The phone dropped from my grasp and clattered to the floor. My back slid against the wall and I couldn’t escape the sobs from escaping my lips.

Not only had he sent me mixed signals for the past month prior, but he was actively courting another woman at the same time.

And got her pregnant.

He never said a word about it.

Never thought to share such information with his personal assistant.

With his friend.

At least I thought we were friends before that.

Part of me wished we were more.

But that was killed by the news.

“Y/N. . . ?” The anger in his voice wavered into something resembling worry.

The placement of his hand on my shoulder had made my heart stop. I didn’t know I had been crying until I saw the tear droplets splatter on the picture of us in my hands. I felt my body begin to tremble underneath his touch and the anger that I thought I’d shoved down was resurfacing. It was bubbling from my chest and rising up my shoulders. It eased up my neck and made a beeline to my lips. I clenched my teeth, attempting to force the words back down my throat. My brain was screaming to be rational. To think my words through. To refrain from saying something I may regret. Yet, my heart had other plans.

“Don’t touch me,” I said, tossing the picture in the trash bin next to my foot. “And leave me the hell alone.”

-----

a/n: I am back from the dead! Did you miss me? I got a surprise coming for you on Sunday!

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melancholymetropolis · 5 months

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Are you a black writer? Asking to see if I've just stumbled upon another amazing black writer.

I am!!!! Black and plus sized! ❤️

#asked and answered #asks

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melancholymetropolis · 6 months

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melancholymetropolis · 6 months

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Escapism.

plot: In which two lonely souls find each other in the middle of the woods

pairings: HeadlessHorseman!Nanami Kento x Reader

genre(s): Hurt with Comfort, Porn with Feelings

warnings: unedited (mostly). a load of crying from the reader. the headless horseman is an absolute gentleman. COURTING. gifts (f receiving). reader is a jokester. nanami is actually headless and the reader is scared of him at first. PIV SEX. fingering (f receiving). squirting. rounds and pounds. nanami falls first and HARD. he is covered in scars. traumatic past. lowkey its an "I can fix him" au. Couple's Banter.

w.c: 9.02k

The spare sunlight trickled from between the clouds and kissed the rippling water of the lake. The morning dew was still heavy in the air and it created a mist above the water. I broke through the milky terrain and debated whether I should catch up with my companions. They seemed to be miles away from me, engaging in some kind of conversation. By the smiles on their faces, it had to be one they both enjoyed. Perhaps pertaining to their blossoming relationship.

I wasn’t a fool.

I could see the way they looked at each other. The love they shared grew every time we were together. The smiles never seemed to leave their faces when they were side by side. The lingering touches seemed far too intimate to have belonged to “just friends”. There was more going on than they let on. More than meets the eye. Yet, I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t mention it. I knew that the moment the question “Are you fucking?” came out of my mouth that I would be shamed. They would minimize my every observation and make me believe that I was seeing things. What made the notion worse was that they would immediately alter their behavior afterward. They would go back to being just friendly with one another and pretend like they weren’t engaging in a forbidden romance just before.

We were supposed to be celebrating my birthday and new promotion. Yet, here I was. Playing the third wheel to my so-called “friends”. There was an intense feeling of loneliness that drifted through me when I was around them. I almost felt excluded from my very own camping trip. I just didn’t connect with them like I used to. The moment the possibility of love came between them, they blocked out everything and everyone around them. They were so absorbed with one another that they didn’t see anyone else. They couldn’t see me— desperately trying to get their attention. So, for both my sanity and my dignity, I’ve decided to cut the trip short. At least, my participation in it. I was going to give the lovebirds all the room they needed to mess around. I could no longer stomach the feeling of exclusion any longer.

A single tear rolled down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away. Removing the evidence of any notice of sadness on my face.

Through the milky mist, I could Trista and Jessica boarding the doc. Their hands were tighter interlocked and their smiles were even wider than before. They were still too far ahead to hear their conversation, but I could tell it was a continuation of the funny one from earlier.

I tore my eyes away from the couple and looked into the rippling water.

It was so inviting and pleasant.

I dropped the teary hand into the water without thinking. I swirled the digits into the clear pool and felt tingles slowly course through my body. Instead of providing a cool sensation, the tingles gave me a warm one. It made the water feel even more comforting. The emotional feeling was neither familiarity nor longing. It was neutral. Almost the feeling you get when you start a new relationship. Right after you discover that your potential suitor may not be an axe murderer. The moment you realized that they had the potential to be your one and only. The water felt, simply put, hopeful.

I kept quiet on the drive back to the cabin. I allowed the lovers and the radio to occupy all the space between us. My eyes drifted out the window, taking in the beautiful woodlands around us. My heart ached at the notion that I could never truly enjoy it. Six months of planning a fantastic rural getaway ruined by the people I held most dear.

“Sorry to interrupt your jam session,” the radio host interjected, mid-song. “But, it was just brought to our attention that a massive mud lid has shaken Evergreen County. It has blocked off access to Route 78, meaning no one will be coming in or out of Evergreen until it is all clear.”

“That’s really unfortunate,” Trista said, clicking off the radio.

“Yeah,” Jessica replied, her eyes flicking over to me in the rearview mirror. “Good thing Y/N booked the cabin for the rest of the week and stocked the fridge, right?”

I gave her a weary smile and looked back out the window.

My plan of leaving was completely foiled. I was stuck with these damned lover birds until the roads were clear. My sadness was quickly replaced with anger beneath my skin. I didn’t have the energy to conceal my emotions anymore. I was incredibly tired of engaging in the activity and lacked the social battery to communicate with these women any longer.

“What with the long face, Y/N?” Trista asked, turning her head towards me. “Are you boat-sick?”

I nodded. “That must be what it is.”

“I’ll put on a pot of tea when we get back to the cabin, okay?” She cooed.

I hummed in agreement. “That sounds good.”

“Maybe you should lay down for a bit, as well,” Jessica chimed in. “Just take the night off. Leave dinner to us for once.”

“Yeah! I can finally make that lasagna soup I was telling you about!” Trista squealed. “When I tell you guys it’s so good! I mean it is to die for.”

“I can’t wait to try it.”

I used the boat sick excuse to hole myself in my room for the rest of the night. My tolerance for their lies had reached its limit and I really wanted to be alone. After a quick shower to wash off the smell of the outside, I slipped into my favorite nightgown. It was a custom number from a Parisian seamstress, a birthday present to myself. The garment was made of deep mauve-colored silk with a lace neckline. It had been well fitted in the waist and thigh air— yet came down to my ankles like a silken waterfall. The seller was so kind to give me a matching robe and bonnet with my order; which I also wore to bed that night. I pulled the fluffy duvet up to about chest level, before lowering my eyemask. I relaxed all the muscles within my body and released the tension in my jaw. I took several deep breaths and rolled over to my side.

However, neither one of these tactics seemed to work.

I had laid in my bed for hours, unable to relax fully.

My mind was simply too busy to sleep. The sadness arose once more now that I was alone. There was a gnawing in my chest that I couldn’t shake. It had gotten worse the longer I held it in. The call/text for dinner had come and went eons ago. The faux bubbly persona of my friends had retired to their rooms and left me to my own vices.

In desperate need of a change of scenery, I swung my legs from the edge of my bed and put on my slippers. I grabbed the chunky knit sweater that hung behind the door and slipped it on. I made sure to keep my footsteps light when walking through the hall. I didn’t want to wake Trista or Jessica. Both claimed to be really light sleepers, but I found that hard to believe.

About halfway through the corridor, I realized that my actions were done in vain. Trista’s room had been right near the staircase and her door was cracked open. Pleasurable moans and sensual sighs oozed from the room. There was a subtle creaking sound from the old bedframe as well. I recognized Trista’s voice sending hushed praises to the other lover. Whispering to Jessica about how good at “it” she was and how she never wanted her to stop.

Suddenly, the house felt entirely too small for the three of us.

My gentle footsteps carried me outside to the porch. I took a seat on the old rocking chair on the left and found myself looking up at the sky. I could not spot a single cloud in the sea of stars. The moon was full and gave everything around me an ivory tint. It was beautiful, for lack of a better word. It was the reason I decided to come to Evergreen County in the first place. I sat up in the rocking chair and placed my forearms on the railing. I allowed my chin to rest on the fleshy area and simply looked at the property around me. I took in the loud chirps of the crickets and the subtle twinkling of fireflies. I felt the cool breeze kiss my skin and the smell of pine invaded my nostrils. I tasted the fresh air on my tongue and felt it penetrate my lungs. With a deep breath, I tried to force all the negative shit out of me. I brought the pain from my chest and to my head. I finally let myself cry.

After a few minutes, I realized that I was no longer alone. I could hear the sound of horse hooves clicking against the pavement. Coming up the driveway was, in fact, a horse. A massive black stallion with a mane that is only seen in fairy tales. Its shiny black coat sparkled in the moonlight and gave it an ethereal aura. Its steps were careful. Almost like it didn’t want to alert anyone of its presence. For that realization, I had to give all the credit to its rider— who was equally as large as the horse it seemed. He, too, was shrouded in all-black. His long, overcoat was tailored perfectly to his body. It accentuated his broad chest and shoulders. He had thick, long legs that hung on either side of the horse. He wore black, freshly shined boots on each gigantic foot.

Although, it felt as though my eyes were deceiving me.

Despite how close the man was getting to me, I still couldn’t make out his head. I couldn’t make out the color of his hair or even get a general outline of his face. I squinted my eyes, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of something.

It wasn’t until the horse made it about six feet away from the house that I realized that I wasn’t going crazy.

The lone horseman was completely headless.

A wave of fear coursed through my body and I felt myself rise from my chair. I made a beeline to the front door and yanked it open. I shoved my body inside the home and swiftly locked the door behind me. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest at the sound of his heavy boots climbing the porch steps. My breath had become uneven from the sounds of my erratic panting. My hands were trembling as I slipped the phone from my cardigan’s pocket and unlocked it. I pressed the little phone icon and began to dial for the police.

But, then, the moment I went to press the phone to my ear, I heard the sound of receding footsteps.

It took all the courage in me to crawl to the window and peer out of it. I had caught a swift glimpse of the horseman mounting his horse, before directing it back down the driveway. Just as swiftly as they appeared the man and his horse disappeared. Leaving me alone once again. I took the phone away from my ear and hung up the call. After another minute or so, I unlocked the door and stepped onto the porch. I looked back at the driveway once more; a frugal effort to ensure that he was truly gone.

He was.

As much as I wanted to ponder why out of all places he came here, to my cabin, I couldn’t. The reason was sitting directly in front of me. Just three feet from the door sat my ring. A friendship that Trista and Jessica both wore as well. We had gotten them right after graduating college. It was a vow to always stay true to one another and to work things out when things had gotten hard. It felt more like an empty promise these days though. I didn’t even notice I had lost the gold band. My mind must’ve been so numb from their fallacious activities that it didn’t even process that it was gone. Even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have looked for it. It didn’t matter to me anymore.

Next to the ring sat a bouquet of wildflowers. The huge bundle was made up of blue and white blossoms. Their scent was sweet and clean. It eased into the nostrils and hardly ever lingered. It made my heart flutter ever so slightly; temporarily lifting the sorrow from it. A tingling sensation bloomed within my chest. It was almost identical to what I had been feeling in the lake earlier when I had put my hand in the water. The tingles gave me comfort. Almost like I had been experiencing the beginnings of a new relationship. As much as I wanted to be mad at the feeling, I couldn’t. My capacity for feeling my emotions had already been filled to the brim. I no longer had the mental space to process this ordeal. I would simply have to wait until I was no longer burnt out to confront the horseman.

Every night the headless stranger would stop by. And every night he would bring me a gift. It was usually in the form of flowers. Fragrant and wild. They filled the small cabin with their scent and added a homey feel to the place. The flowers were a wonderful distraction from the loneliness that remained in my heart. They brightened the rainy days and gave me something to hope for. The mudslide had seemed to have gotten worse with the constant showers. More and more debris had filled the road, making it even harder to leave. The rain had limited our outdoor activity, as well, and forced me inside the force. I couldn’t even use the beautiful scenery to distract from the betrayal anymore. I was trapped.

By the fourth night of spending a whole day pretending to be fine, I found myself on the porch once again. There were no tears in my eyes that time, though. I was all cried out. The sadness had moved from my heart and unrooted an emotion I tended to avoid: anger. I started to become angry that my “friends” had thought so little of me; how they had the gall to sneak around right under my nose and think it was perfectly acceptable to do so.

I don’t know if it was being trapped in the house or the cold, rainy days, but I could hear them messing around almost every night. I heard almost every pleasurable sigh, bed creak, and intense squeal through my very thin wall. It was so infuriating. I wanted nothing more than to just bang on the wall and ask them to stop. Or, at least, take it down to the basement where I wouldn’t hear them. There was an escape from their constant torment. It wasn’t the loving glances and gentle hand brushes in the day— then it was the aggressive humping and loud moaning at night. I was reminded of their betrayal every second of the hour and I was slowly losing my mind because of it.

I was so deep in thought on the fourth night that I didn’t notice the horseman’s presence, until after he placed the flowers on the porch’s steps. Their bright yellow petals had torn me from my reverie and brought me back to reality. The hulking figure had stood several paces away from the steps. His hands were crossed against his chest and there was a slight tilt in his body. If he had a face, I imagined it could have been a quizzical look upon it. He’d seemed rather confused, yet intrigued at the sight before him. The image of a relatively young woman, adorned in a silk nightgown and robe, pacing back and forth on a front porch. It was way past midnight and the air was borderline arctic. Yet, she still decided to wear a fashionable outfit while mumbling to herself like a crazy person. I am sure any given person would have stopped and stared at me if they had the chance. Even if they had been a ghost.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the realization of his presence finally hit me.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” I hissed, taking a step back. “Where the hell did you come from? Sneaking up on me like a ghost in the night.”

I mumbled the last bit under my breath, but the headless horseman seemed to have heard it anyway.

He gestured to his body, lifting both hands up and down at the same. Almost as if to say, “Don’t you see me? I am the ghost in the night.” The last part was solidified by the gesturing of the empty space between his shoulders; right where his head was supposed to be. The movements were playful. Some would say they were even comical, but they still didn’t get much out of me. Not a laugh, nor a giggle. Just a slight smirk and a shaking of my head.

“I’m gonna have to get you a bell or something so I know you’re close by.”

He gestured to the massive black stallion tied to a nearby tree.

“Oh yeah. . . I forgot about that. Good point,” I replied, scratching the back of my head. “I really must’ve been out of it, huh? I didn’t even hear the heavy hooves of that big ass horse over there. Well, shit. I really made myself an easy target, didn’t I?”

The horseman gestured to his belt. It carried several weapons, such as an axe and a revolver. The second movement was something I didn’t realize he knew. He puffed out his chest and placed his hands on his hips. He assumed the Superman stance— the pose made more clear by the way his jacket blew back in the wind. That was something I couldn’t help but smile at. It seemed that he had been trying his best to make light of the situation. From the comical gestures to how he stood a good five feet away from the porch. It felt like the horseman didn’t want to impose, but he also didn’t want me to dwell on something so upsetting. The realization had struck a chord with me. The fact that a ghost could pick up my change in attitude and my friends did not was eye-opening. It was downright alarming. It just solidified to me that they had truly been on another planet. Never mind the fact that I had only officially met the headless stranger several days prior.

“So, you’ll protect me, hmm?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and tilting my head. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The being lowered his hands to his hips and took several paces to the porch steps. He lifted the bouquet from the polished wood and gently passed the bundle to me. I took the yellow daisies and brought them to my nose. Their scent was fresh and inviting— almost like new love. There were hints of chamomile within its petals, although I couldn’t stop the little flowers anywhere. I watched as the hulking figure lowered himself onto one knee and placed a hand on his chest. He outstretched the other towards me, his fingers spread and his gloved palm open.

The love confession, as simple as it may be, made my heart flutter.

It hadn’t taken long for me to realize just how meaningful the horseman was. He relied heavily on his actions to perpetuate his feelings. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to tell a lover white lies to pass the time. Perhaps it was the absence of his head that forced the notion, but I appreciated all the same. He seemed authentic and raw in his sentiment. He probably couldn’t lie, even if he wanted to. The movements of his figure would give it away. It was easy to lie using your vocal cords, it was even harder to lie through body language. The more I thought about it, the more I understood why I had entertained this attraction for the past several days. Not only did it serve as a distraction from my dishonest vacation buddies, but it felt genuine. It felt so fucking real in a world of grey skies and black smoke. The Headless Horseman was the only one expressing his true self these days, the only one unable to lie to me. Although, I am pretty certain he wouldn’t want to if he had the option. He was a gentleman above anything else, and he wasn’t the type of guy to misdirect his lady.

The longer I looked at him, the more my heart pounded. A million thoughts exploded through my mind at once. The main one was how I only had two more days left of this vacation and how I would probably put this place behind me— due to the unfortunate actions of my friends. It almost saddened me that I would never be able to see someone as sweet as the horseman again. It was truly insane how a ghost knew the art of courtship better than the living, breathing humans I accompanied on the daily. Yet, I digress. The second thought was of my friends upstairs. There was no doubt in my mind that the act they were engaging in was somewhere between sinful and unholy. They had been fucking like rabbits since the mudslide happened. However, the judgment in my being was beginning to subside.

Sure, I didn’t hand a human participant to engage in such disgusting activities.

But, I did have a ghost.

A sexy one, at that.

Call it petty, but, I had a sudden taste for vengeance.

“Mister Horseman?” I hesitated.

He rose from the ground and took several steps closer to me. It was just until his shins were touching the bottom step of the porch. Still, he opted to keep his distance. Just like the gentleman he was. Even after all that time, he worried he might scare me.

I lowered the flowers back onto the floor and proceeded to untie my silk robe— ever so slowly. I allowed the garment to fall to the crooks of my elbows and expose my bare shoulders. My nipples pebbled in the cool night air and a shiver crept down my spine. I saw his body tense at the sight of my exposed skin and his hand balled into a fist. Hollow breaths fell from my lips as I took several steps back. They weren’t out of fear, no. They were to add to the art of seduction. I pulled the silk bonnet off my head and allowed my goddess braids to flow down my back. I saw his chest rise and fall at a rapid rate. Despite him having no head, it seemed that the horseman was struggling to breathe. It was an intriguing sight.

“Allow me to be the first to say that the feeling is mutual,” I said, breathlessly. “I, too, hold a certain affection for you.”

His body leaned closer and began to tremble after digesting the words.

“However, unlike you, I was not blessed enough to show my talents through crafts,” I said, gesturing to the bouquet on the ground. “I was blessed in other ways. Ways that I can only show you upstairs, in my bedroom. And I would have no problem showing you—”

His gloved hands were on my body before I could finish the sentence. I could feel the cool leather through the soft silk against my hips. He held the plush area firmly, hesitant to bring any lower. The horseman was testing the waters, attempting to see just how comfortable I was with him. I brought his palms lower and slid them to my backside. I guided them to my plump rear and assisted in his grabbing of it. A soft gasp fell from my lips as I felt him reciprocate the action on his own. Gently, he massaged the plump muscle, bringing my body slower the longer he did it. About thirty seconds later, my chest was pressed against the top of his abdomen, and my arms were drabbed over his shoulders.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I purred, pulling away to open the door.

The horseman, quickly, pulled me back against his body and lifted me in one fell swoop. My thighs rested on either side of his slender waist and ankles locked just above his rear. My arms immediately gripped his shoulders, while one of his arms wrapped around me— holding my body completely steady. He used his other hand to open the front door quietly and let us both inside the cabin. He took careful steps; I could barely hear his footfalls on the hardwood floor.

“My room is upstairs,” I whispered. “It’s the third door on the left.”

The horseman took silent steps up the creaky old stairs. Both hands were around me now. He caressed my back sweetly as we ascended to my room. If he had a mouth, I was sure he’d hum a loving tune in my ear. My heart couldn’t help but sway at the action. It had only been a few minutes of him embracing me and I was already starting to fall for him. Maybe it was loneliness or the betrayal that left me so sensitive, but I couldn’t help myself. The horseman was simply too impactful.

However, the temporary bliss was cut short by the sight of Trista’s cracked door. Just as I had expected, lustful sounds danced from within the room and caressed my ears. I could feel my expression immediately drop at the sound. My inference had been correct. They were still, in fact, fucking like rabbits. As much as I would’ve loved to side my expression, I couldn’t. The horseman's face, or lack thereof, was right next to mine— meaning that he saw everything.

Instead of simply ignoring it, he gripped my body tighter and took quicker steps down the hall. He, still, didn’t make a sound. He walked right through my open door and gently lowered me onto the bed. He stood before me for several seconds, taking in the sight before him. A significantly smaller woman, adorned in lace and silk, with a face stricken with sorrow. I doubt that it was a pretty sight, though his actions said otherwise.

The horseman shrunk down to the floor before me and placed his hands on my knees. He slowly pushed them apart. Unlike the men before him, the horseman didn’t dive right in and reach for the slick lips underneath my silk skirt. He placed his body between my separated thighs and placed his hands on my hips. Gently, he moved them up my soft sides and back, just before stopping at my collarbones. With the cool leather of his glove, he caressed the soft area. The horseman gradually moved his embrace up my neck and to my jaw. His thumb ran across my bottom lip tenderly and sent shivers through my body. His other hand gripped the side of my face and started to brush against my cheek. I felt my eyes close at the action. My heart was warm and my mind was beginning to ease. The irritating sounds from earlier had left my mind and been replaced with a sense of tranquility. It was strange how someone so mythical was able to get such a reaction out of me. Especially after just knowing him for a few days.

“Let me feel you,” I said, opening my eyes. “Let me feel your skin against mine.”

The word “please” lingered after those sentences, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. I wasn’t the kind of woman to beg anyone to do anything for me. And I wouldn’t be starting now.

I felt him tense at the rest, almost as if he hadn’t expected it. Or, he just didn’t want to do it. Yet, he still obliged with my request.

Slowly, the ghost removed his hands from my face and placed them on my lap. He started on his right hand; pinching each finger and pulling it away from the skin. When each digit was loose, he pulled the glove off his hand with an air of hesitation. Clumsily, the leather garment was removed from his palm and tossed aside. Underneath was a stark, pale, icy-cold hand covered in an array of scars. His fingers seemed to be trembling slightly. His sensitivity to rejection was prevalent and made itself known to me. I took the massive palm into my hands. I bent the fingers at the knuckles just slightly before pressing a sweet kiss on the chilly surface. My eyes instinctively zeroed in on the empty space his head used to be. I stared at it, imagining it was actually there.

“You’re beautiful,” I found myself saying. “Scars and all. I accept you as you are. Thank you for sharing your body with me.”

A wave of relaxation overtook his rigid demeanor. His body eased into the confines of my own, before wrapping his arms around my waist tightly. It was a simple hug, yet it felt like so much more. It was the only way he could possibly show affection without easing into a carnal activity. The absence of lips had made this rendezvous so much more difficult. I wanted nothing more than to press my mouth against his and press his against mine. I wanted my hands to be in his hair, while he roamed underneath my skirt and beneath my thighs. I wanted to be as close to him as physically, and maybe spiritually, possible. But, I had to settle for a hug instead. I wrapped my arms around the undead man tightly and simply took in the moment.

Upon releasing me from the embrace, the horseman pressed a tender hand to my chest and pushed my body back. It was until my back hit the mattress. Then, he slowly pushed the wrinkled, skirt from my ankles up to my rear. I placed the bottoms of my feet at the edge of the bed, just to give him more access. Nestled between two soft thighs was my womanhood. Damp, curly, and absent of panties. The grip that the horseman had on my thighs firmed and I watched his chest expand. Almost as if he were holding his breath. He quickly removed the second glove before getting to work. The icy finger brushed against the hot vulva and caused me to shiver. A pleasurable sigh fell from my lips as I relaxed completely atop the bed.

His gentle digits proceeded to separate the lower lips and expose the sensitive bud beneath. Before touching the throbbing clit, the horseman slid his thumb along my slit. He gathered all the lovely slick my walls produced on the thumb’s pad, before swirling it along my bud. I hissed at the feeling of his finger against me. The cold sensation was making my walls spasm a little. He rubbed my bud in large circles. The horseman added just the right amount of pressure to have me moaning up a storm. At some point, I lowered my bent knees to a wide ‘v’ shape and gave him more access to me. My hips rolled and bucked against his hand, desperately wanting more than he had to offer. Like a friendly visitor, one of his fingers tapped against my entrance. It was his silent way of asking for my permission.

“Yes,” I sighed. “Put it in.”

The thick finger eased into the slick center and I felt my world come crashing down. The coolness of his digit in my hot crevice was something I couldn’t mentally fathom. It was foreign and almost bizarre, yet I couldn’t stop myself. It swiftly became addicting. The horseman added another finger and flexed the digits upward— pressing directly against the g-spot. My legs twitched and my breath started to hollow. The movements of his fingers were stern, not rough. They were meant to hammer the sensitive area— they were supposed to massage it. The skill in his fingers was something of a legend. They stretched the walls within, ever so gracefully. They prepped me for the awaiting member I already caught a glimpse of moments before. From the imprint it made on his trousers, it was big and girthy. It would probably tear me in half without the right preparation. Yet, despite how intimidating the semi-hard member seemed through the fabric, I couldn’t have been more excited about it.

The orgasm was deep and erotic. And completely took me by surprise. It unearthed something divine within my womanhood and presented it to the horseman. My back arched against the bed as my mouth grew wider. My moans bounced on the walls as the orgasm nipped at my heels. The warm sensation in my belly grew wider until my entire body was on fire as a result. My fingers dug into the bedsheets as my toes curled and my body shook. My eyes were squeezed shut and my breathing grew erratic. My legs twitched and vibrated against the horseman’s forearm. He had to remove the thumb from my clit to hold my left leg.

“Oh Dear God. . .” I slurred as my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

The movements of his hands never stopped, they only made the orgasm longer and more powerful. I was seeing stars in my mind as my slick coated his hands. Thick cream oozed from my cunt as my body started to settle against the mattress. The after-effects of the climax started to wear down on my nerves. After some time, the ghost removed his cool finger from my center. He massaged the soft flesh of my thighs for a little while, before rising to his crouched position on the floor. I plopped my body onto my elbows and watched as he began to disrobe. The heavy, wool cloak was removed from his broad shoulder. Underneath was a stark white shirt and silk suit vest. Slowly, the ghost undid the buttons of both garments. Taking special care of the flawless pieces as he did so. Just as his hands, his chest was covered in an array of scars. They are arranged in size, shape, and depth. My heart sunk at the sight of them in the pale moonlight.

It was unclear whether or not he received them all at once, but one thing was certain. The Headless Horseman had a very rough life. Underneath the scars was a body I hardly expected. Almost every muscle along his figure was pronounced. From his rock-hard abs to his rippling arm muscles. Every last one was on perfect display for me to see. And what a beautiful sight it was.

His shoes were the next thing to come off. Followed by his pants. It felt like that bit was in slow motion. He unbuckled the silver belt buckles and undid the closure with ease. Slowly, as if he knew I was watching, the horseman pushed his pants down his thick thighs and forced them into a puddle on the floor. Just as I expected, the member was big and girthy. It seemed the nickname “horseman” was a double entender. Even in the pale moonlight, I could see the pre-cum leaking from his slit. It painted the brown tip gloriously and made it glisten. One of his wide palms inched down to his member and took a firm hold of it. I watched him stroke the member slowly. It felt like he was seducing me. Fortunately for him, it was working. He took several slow steps toward my body, I could feel my heart pound in response. Before we did any more damage to my favorite nightie, I lifted the silk garment off my body and tossed it aside. I, also, scooted back against the bed; in able to give the horseman more room to work.

The ghost proceeded to crawl against the fluffy mattress, flexing every muscle in his body as he did so. Groans left my mouth at the sight. I had never seen something so sexy in my life. Before long, his cool hands were pressed against my thick form once more. In one swift motion, the horseman spun me on my stomach and angled my hips in the air. I didn’t even have time to process what was happening, since his hands were palming my ass. He squeezed and massaged the soft tissue in a way I didn’t expect. He seemed completely mesmerized by it. Maybe it was the size or how soft it felt in his grip, but the horseman couldn’t get enough.

I giggled at the notion. “You could give it a smack if you want,” I said, wiggling my hips against his palms. “I won’t mind.”

The ghost paused the massaging of the rear and hesitantly raised his hand from my right cheek. He proceeded to give me the softest spank I had ever received in my life. I couldn’t help but erupt in a fit of laughter.

“You can do better than that,” I chuckled. “I’m a big girl, horseman. I handle a little pain.”

With a firm hand, the horseman spanked my ass once again. The feeling was somewhat indescribable. I had never been one for experiencing pain during sex, but being with him was starting to make me think otherwise. The sheer sting of the hit was enough to make my walls clench. He seemed to have noticed it as well. A shocked moan fell from my lips when the horseman did it again. That time, it was placed on the left cheek. A buzz of electricity coursed through my being with the second hit. My walls were oozing for him to invade them. The desire to be torn apart by the horse cock between his legs was growing greater by the second. The closer our bodies became, the more I wanted him. There was a force that was drawing us together. Something completely mythical and absolutely otherworldly. It felt like it was trying to tell us something.

But, I couldn’t decipher the message.

At least, not yet.

The moment he sunk into me I could feel my nerves begin to sing. The coldness of his body against my hot one was something divine. I pressed my face deeper into the pillows as he gave me everything he had. And it was a lot. It stretched me in either direction and made my canal spasm as a result. His cock pushed against every pressure point within my womanhood and I knew, then, that it would simply destroy me. I brought a shaky hand between my thighs as he started to rock against me. I rubbed my bud in lazy circles, a frugal effort to aid in my adjustment to his size. Low mewls fell from my lips as the thrusts started to increase in speed. The horseman had both hands on my hips as he moved against me. His hips rolled against my ass in a wave-like motion. The horseman didn’t seem interested in ‘fucking’ me, per se. He had no interest in giving me all that he had and shoving me into the mattress. When he moved against me, it didn’t feel like he was using my body. I didn’t feel like a tool to assist in his cardinal desires. He treated me like a prize; as if I was the main attraction. Even without a mouth, the horseman had communicated his intentions clearly.

He wanted me as a potential lover, not as a passing phase.

His actions— from the beautiful bouquets to the way he fingered me— were an act of courtship. Even with his member buried in my pussy, the ghost was still courting me. The rolling of his hips against my cunt and the soft grip on my hips were examples of that. Again, the horseman had no intention of ‘just’ fucking me. He wanted more. So, this little rendezvous was the perfect opportunity to express that. Rather than use me like a living, breathing fleshlight, the horseman decided to make love to me. He was proposing what a union could be like between us. Without saying a word, the horseman was explaining to me that I was capable of having both a lovely companion and a seductive paramour. He showed me that it was possible for me to have a gentleman that would get me flowers, and fuck me within an inch of my life.

Suddenly, a warm sensation started to flutter about my body. It gave me an air of comfort that I never experienced before. It gradually started to pool in my stomach, making my tummy feel warm in the process. The muscles in my body started to tense up and my grip on the mattress tightened. The breath in my throat grew thicker and my eyes fell shut. The gentle sound of the wind was the only thing to grace my ears. Every other sound drifted away. I could no longer hear the bed creaking beneath us, or the headboard hitting the wall. I wouldn’t hear my desperate gasps or the sound of our wet bodies hitting each other. Most importantly, I couldn’t hear the sapphic lovers enjoying themselves next door. At that point, their union no longer mattered to me. It was swiftly becoming something old and stale. Their betrayal was the most mundane thing to happen since we entered Evergreen County. In less than a week, I had a natural disaster grace my path, discovered that mythical beings existed, and was actively pursued by one. Not only that, but he was a better lover and companion than everyone before him.

Maybe I was entering my fifth stage of grief or maybe I was delusional, but I was swiftly getting over it.

“That’s it. . .” I grunted, my body still tense. “Keep going. . . I’m so close.”

The ghostly gentleman squeezed my hips tighter at the request. He kept his deep, seductive pace— not changing it one bit. If the arrangement was different, if he had a head, I knew the horseman would be the kind of guy to talk me through it. He’d whisper sweetnothings in my ear, calling me “beautiful” and “gorgeous”, while turning me into a slobbering, cock-hungry slut. He’d have a tongue like a snake, sneaky and deceptive. The horseman would never get rid of me if I could hear him speak. I’d never leave Evergreen County, even if my life depended on it.

The water in the shallow pool slipped over the edge and sent me into a spiral. The orgasm was deep, slow, and soul-wrenching. It unearthed something downright feral from my being. A low, groan poured from my mouth as I subconsciously threw my hips back to meet his. My mouth hung open like a bitch in heat and drool poured from the side of my mouth. My eyes rolled back until the whites were the only thing visible. Oxygen came rushing into my throat all at once. My throat started to heave and my heart began to pound in my chest. It was so loud. It began the only thing I could hear for a short while.

I didn’t even register that the horseman had changed positions. He hoisted my body from the bed and pressed my back against his chest. He hooked his left arm across my body and gently cupped my right breast in the process. His right arm wrapped around my waist, while his right hand gripped my hip. The ghost sunk back on his heels and separated his thighs a little bit more. My ass sat comfortably on his lap and his cock felt deeper than before. My walls were still fluttering when he started to move. The pace was faster than before. His hips moved like a piston, almost mechanical and precise. I could feel the head of his cock hammer the underside of my cervix. The pleasure point was getting obliterated at record time. The warm, fuzzy post-orgasm feeling had swiftly left my body. It was replaced with a burning hot desire that I, sadly, recognized. It was a feeling I had grown accustomed to in the short time our bodies were joined. The horseman was the only being to make me feel such cardinal desires. He was the walking epitome of sex, despite not having a head. Sex with him didn’t feel like a chore. It was an experience. An activity both parties could enjoy. And I was enjoying myself more than he could ever know.

It wasn’t long before his quick, machine-like thrust turned sloppy and clumsy. I could feel his lips begin to twitch the longer he pounded into my pussy. He was reaching his limit. I could feel the rapid pace at which his chest rose and fell against my back. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. At the front of my mind, I knew the horseman wasn’t alive. I knew he was a ghost, a headless one at that. However, I couldn’t process the feeling of humility I had gotten from him. The coldness I first felt when he touched me was no longer present. His body felt warm and inviting. It even had a thin sheet of sweat on it, just like mine. It could have been the crazy sex hormones coursing through my body, but it felt like the horseman was slowly becoming human.

I didn’t have to time to analyze the thought any further before the third climax came knocking at my womanhood. It was somehow even more powerful than the ones before. My entire body trembled as I came undone against the horseman. A loud, pleasurable scream flowed from my lips as I threw my head back. My hips bucked against his lap as liquid shot out of my cunt and coated his rod. My nails dug into his warm flesh as I rode out my high. The massive member began to vibrate and twitch within me. Shortly afterward, thick ropes of cum coated my slick walls. I groaned at the sensation. The horseman continued to pound into my used pussy until he physically couldn’t anymore. His body, also, trembled and shook against mine. The lasting effects of overstimulation eating away at his feral demeanor. His sloppy thrusts came to a slow stop and his arms loosened their grip.

The horseman repositioned our bodies for the final time that night.

With both of us on our sides and my face buried in his chest— I had never felt more content in my life.

I awoke to a gentle kiss placed on my forehead. Followed by another on the tip of my nose and one on each eyelid. A soft hand readjusted the silk bonnet on my head, before capturing the side of my face in its palm. It was warm, familiar, and inviting. I found my sleepy form leaning into it, nestling against it for comfort. Slowly, my tired eyes eased open. The bright sunlight forced me to immediately shut them and groan in annoyance. The thumb, attached to the warm palm, gently caressed my face. It stroked my cheek lovingly, before moving over to my lips. Tenderly, the digit ran across my bottom lip; sending shivers through my body once again.

Once again?

The memory of the horseman’s gentle fingers immediately came to mind. How they caressed my face and neck, before easing down to my cunt. The feeling of his thumb running against my lips was identical to the sensation I was feeling now. But, something was different about it. There wasn’t a sadness in the touch as it was before— only anticipation. As if he was waiting to finally kiss me after the night we had. That would’ve been impossible, given his current disposition. It would be impossible to share a kiss with the horseman since he was without the equipment necessary to achieve said embrace. Unless he managed to grow a head at some point during the night—

“Open your eyes, darling.” The voice was deep and smooth, like an aged wine. It brought pleasure to my eardrums and made my heart sing.

Upon easing my eyes open, I was graced with the most beautiful man I had ever seen. The warm sunlight gave his pale skin an ethereal glow. His deep, brown eyes shined like ambers in the light. He had high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Resting above a very pronounced chin was a pair of plump lips. They were soft and had a pinkish hue to them. Above them was his nose; it was straight and came to a subtle point. The shape of his eyes was narrow and just above them were a set of thin, blond brows. They matched the messy blond hair atop his head.

A smile spread upon his lips. “Good Morning, little owl,” he purred, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “How did you sleep?”

I matched the smile on his face. “I slept well,” I replied. “It’s great to finally see you. All of you.”

“And what a marvel it is to be seen by you,” he hummed, lovingly.

Hesitantly, I raised a gentle hand to his face. My warm fingers brushed against his plump lips; a weak attempt to determine if I had been dreaming.

I was not. This was all 100% real.

“You know,” I started, combing through his soft locks. “I have a lot of questions about. . . this.”

“I’m sure you do,” he smirked. “And I am more than happy to answer every last one of them.”

“Quite the charmer you are,” I quipped. “I bet you have all the ladies losing their heads over you.”

A deep, guttural laugh erupted from the man above me. It warmed my heart.

“You are quite the jokester, aren’t you?” He replied when he finally died down. “On the contrary, it was the exact opposite. I lost my head for a lady.”

A frown took over my face. “I’m sorry.”

The horseman used the awkwardness of the conversation to adjust his position above me. He slumped into the space on my left side and pulled me closer. His stronger arms cradled my soft body against his hard one. My bare chest was pressed against his and our legs were intertwined. It was painfully obvious that we were both quite naked underneath the covers. I could feel a familiar friend begin to twitch against my right thigh. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t ready for another round. Sure my body was on fire and there was a subtle ache in my walls, but the feeling of that man against me was something I wanted to relive. Especially now that I had something to look at.

The horseman was so pretty that it fucking hurt my feelings.

“It was a long time ago,” he sighed, stroking my cheek. “I hardly ever think about it anymore.”

“But. . .” I hesitated. “How were you able to wander around without your head?”

He thought for a minute. A sour look overtook his look of contentment. There was also a hint of shame in his eyes as well. Whatever he was about to say, he was deathly embarrassed about it.

“I made a bargain with the forest guardian as I was dying,” he admitted after some time. “I asked her for a chance to walk the earth again. To experience the love I had just previously lost again. Even after all she had done, I still loved my wife and I wanted to get back to her. The forest guardian must’ve been sympathetic and granted me one more night on this plane. In exchange, I was to be her servant and guard the north side of the forest until she no longer needed me. However, like most bargains, there would be a catch. I was to remain headless and walk the forest until the end of time.”

“But, what changed?” I asked, hanging on the edge of my seat. “Why do you have a head all of a sudden? After all that time has passed?”

The warm smile from earlier reappeared on his lips and the horseman pulled me closer. “You came into my life and changed everything.”

“How?” I said. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“That’s the point. You did nothing to warrant such devious actions from your friends, yet you still got betrayed. As did I,” he answered. “We share a pain known to many but not often spoken about it. The loss of a community. I could feel that pain the day you were in the boat. It drew me to you. I watched you cry from the shadows and my heart bled for you. I wanted to make you feel better by any means necessary and I heard flowers would do the trick.”

“So you started making me bouquets,” I interjected.

The horseman nodded. “But, I think it was your acceptance of me that freed me from servitude. Your words last night were genuine, along with your actions. You meant what you said and it thawed my frozen heart. I no longer wanted to live in solitude, roaming the forest for the rest of eternity. I wanted to be in love. You made me want to love again.”

I raised a shaky hand to his cheek and stroked it lovingly. “This is a lot to take in. There’s so much I to say, but I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about we start with our names?” The horseman suggested. “My name is Nanami Kento. What’s yours?”

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a/n: long time no see! I missed y'all! this took longer than i expected, but i hope it is to your linking. please give you sis some feedback! i wanna hear what you think. also, please vote for what piece you'd like to see me upload next!

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until next time! see you later!

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melancholymetropolis · 6 months

Text

Big Ole Freak

plot: A curious archivist accidentally summons Ryomen Sukuna

pairings: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

genre(s): MONSTERFUCKING; Shameless Smut

warnings: unedited (mostly). canon divergence. d/s role. FEMDOM Y/N. bratty sub Sukuna. breathplay. choking (m receiving). reader is shy at first but kinda bossy towards the end. fight for dominance lowkey. PIV SEX. sukuna had four arms and used all of them. TEASING. fingering. creaming. possessive sukuna. feral reader. lowkey pining. talks out love. overthinker reader. pet names (kuna, pet, baby, monster, etc.) dirty talk. oral (f receiving). praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds and rounds.

w.c: 8.2k

a/n: if I told you that almost 5.5k is smut would you believe me?

“Testing,” I said into the tape recorder. “One, two.”

I played the audio back and grimaced at the sound of my own voice. After years of extensive research, one could only hope to move past that insecurity. I deleted the recording and placed the device on the table. I dimmed the lights within the small community library and opted to turn on a few electric candles. I adjusted my wire-rim glasses and pulled my mini-twists into a ponytail. Once satisfied with the set-up, I slipped on white cotton gloves and pressed play on the recording.

“Good Evening, listener,” I said politely into the device. “My name is Dr. Y/N L/N, senior archivist at Jujutsu Library here in Japan. I hope you are doing well.”

I proceeded to place a heavy box on the table and continued to talk. “I am using this recording to document the initial opening of the Ryomen Grimoire. It was reported to be a book of spells for a powerful emperor named Sukuna, all the way back in the Nara period of Japan. For reference, that would be somewhere in the 1100s.” I cleared my throat the remark and placed two hands on the lid. “There is not that much history on the empire, as his life is riddled with mystery. There are far too many conflicting reports about who Sukuna was and how he came to be one of the most ruthless rulers of all time. Some say it was due to him being orphaned at a very young age. Others say it was his father's abuse of him. Then, there is a tale of lost love. Apparently, a woman he was dating had cheated on him and fallen pregnant with another man’s baby.”

I cleared my throat again and started to rub it gently. There was a subtle tightness around the area that caused irritation to my whole being. But, that hadn’t been the only thing. I could feel chills slowly drifting down my spine and goosebumps began to rise on my arms. The sensation was odd on many accounts. The first being that I was in the basement of the library. It was notoriously known for being without an air conditioner. I had spent many days, drenched in sweat, archiving old materials. There had been a crappy fan stationed here, but its winds were too powerful for such delicate papers. The second odd thing about the room was that I hadn’t been particularly cold, nor scared to obtain said goosebumps. I was not trembling with fear or on the brink of freezing to death. My body was utterly calm and my mind totally clear. My temperature was neutral; I wasn’t hot or cold. Reading grimoires and looking at so-called “haunted” materials was a typical Sunday for me. It wasn’t something that brought me joy or excitement, it was just my job.

“As you possibly tell by my brief description, the stories conflict quite a bit,” I continued on. “One cannot be an orphan with a father or vice versa. In all truth, researchers are all confused as to who he truly is. They are trying to figure out what kind of man he was and how he impacted Japan’s history. This is why the discovery of his grimoire was massive and brought in a lot of attention. Scientists from all over the world are flying in to witness its contents. But, lucky for us, Jujustu Library is the first one to get their hands on it.”

I undid the metal latches on the side and began to raise the lid. A retched stench tore through the air upon opening it. My body shivered with disgust and I felt myself gag a little.

“Note to self,” I said to the recorder. “Please restock facemasks as soon as possible.”

I’d simply cut that part out later.

I tucked my nose in my shirt and inhaled deeply. “I will now take the grimoire out of the box.”

The book was approximately twelve inches wide and fourteen inches thick. When I had dropped my hands in the box and grasped the edges, I could tell by the weight that it was about eight hundred pages long. It was a remarkable five to six inches thick, with a leather buckle holding it shut. I placed the heavy object on the table with a gentle “thud and proceeded to unlatch the leather binding. Small flecks of dust seeped from the pages as the pressure was released from the latch. They painted the white table a subtle rusty brown color.

“It seems to me that the book has been stored in some kind of volcanic environment,” I observed, adjusting my glasses. “The dust particles have a reddish tint to them. This insinuates that the box must've been buried in iron-rich soil. This kind of dirt can be found near recently erupted volcanoes. Magma has high levels of magnetite phenocrysts, which hardens over time and creates magnetite iron.” I looked closely at the lid of the crate and hummed. “This theory is justified by the imperfections on the outside of the crate. There a subtle singe marks on the lib of the box and on the left side. This is interesting, to say the least.” I cleared my throat. “I will now peel back the cover of the book.”

True to my word, I took the cover of the grimoire in my hands gently and peeled it back to reveal the cover page.

“There is a scripture written on the first page,” I said, bringing my face closer to the brown pages. “It’s quite, faded, but I will do my best to read it aloud.”

As definite as the sun

And consistent as the moon

The power of Ryomen Sukuna will possess us all.

The King of Curses is a God to Many

Ruler of all things dark and cruel

Father to the monster of the below.

He feasts on the innocent

Lusts for the wicked

And craves all things violent.

“The last part is a little hard to read. There seems to be a substance covering the last stanza,” I mumbled, a little frustrated at the notion. I sighed deeply and adjusted my position at the table. I walked over to the far edge and dug into my tool bag. I pulled out a magnifying glass and a flashlight. I brought the touch a safe distance away from the book and clicked it on. With the magnifying glass directly behind it, I was able to decipher the words rather quickly.

With the moon at a crescent

And a lady nearby

Ryomen will come alive

She will call out to him

Bring him back to the land of living

And he will conquer it all once again

Suddenly, the light above the table began to flicker and buzz. The moment I raised my head to look at it, the light clicked off. The room was shrouded in darkness, aside from the little flashlight in my hand. I used the little beam to direct myself to the room’s exit. I gripped the handle of the door and gave it a fierce turn, but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck. With all my strength, I pulled and pushed at the heavy metal door. I tried my best to remain calm. I knew better than to let panic consume my body and make me behave irrationally. This wasn’t the first time creepy things happened when I conducted research on a haunted object. There were instances where the object flew across the room whenever I came near it. Other times, random scratches appeared on my body. I have had my fair share of weird things happening to me in the presence of cursed objects. But, locking me in the room with it was a new one. The entity attached to the artifact would much rather have me far away from it, not in the same vicinity as me.

A warm gust of wind brushed against my back, making my body tense. I could hear the familiar crackle of fire in the distance as a purple-ish light filled the room. I turned my body slowly toward the table. My eyes widened at the sight. A flock of magenta flames had covered the surface of the black table, while black smoke filled the space around it. Within the fire, a deep, menacing laugh appeared. It filled the room instantly and brought shivers down my spine. My legs buckled and eventually gave out as I watched the scene unfold before me. My back slid against the metal door and my rear ended up on the floor. Gradually, a figure started to appear in the flames.

There was a head covered in unruly, spiky hair; which led to a thick neck and shoulders. A set of arms started to materialize, followed by another.

“Dear God. . .” The realization of what was happening had sank in.

That was Ryomen Sukuna.

I had summoned Ryomen Sukuna without meaning to.

I was utterly fucked.

The last part of the body to materialize was the eyes. There were four of them. The first set had sat normally on the face, while the other appeared beneath the. The bright red pupils seemed to glow in the heart of the flames and they seemed to be staring directly at me. A wide, sinister smile slowly formed on the King’s face, followed by a seductive lick across his pointed teeth. The laugh continued to echo throughout the room and it was the thing of nightmares. Something in my being had told me I would not survive the end of the night— that the King of Curses would slaughter me the moment he had the chance. He was not known for being kind, so I knew pleading would do nothing to help me. I would just have to accept my fate, which sucked in more ways than one.

I would never be able to do all the things I always wanted to do.

Like traveling across the world, or sleeping in the Palace of Versailles. I wanted nothing more than to feel like a Queen, even if it were just for a day.

I would never learn how to be a sculptor. I had imagined my work being in museums all over Europe and people calling me the next Divinici.

I would never tell Robert from Accounting how I felt about him. Granted the crush was still fresh and I had just realized my feelings a week ago. But, I was never one to act on those kinds of things. I knew that wanting love would lead to heartache and pain. My dating track record had been nothing short of a horror movie and I never truly had a partner like ever. Which was completely pathetic, since I was swiftly approaching thirty and never even. . .

The clearing of a throat snapped me from my head. I raised my vision back to the table and gulped slowly. The magenta flames had dissipated and the black smoke had cleared. Leaning on the edge was a man— a term I use very loosely. He was massive, probably standing somewhere between eight and nine feet tall. The thick, black-lined tattoos decorated his pale skin. They made him look even scarier. He was shirtless, and his broad chest had a dull sheen to it. He wore a pair of purple, wide-legged pants and traditional Japanese sandals. Even with their loose design, I can almost spot his muscular legs beneath them. Along with a semi-noticeable bulge in the crotch area.

A fierce blush flared up on my face and I quickly looked away.

“So that is why you summoned me?” He teased, crossing both sets of arms across his chest. “The little lamb wanted to get fucked by a real man?”

The voice was deep and unnatural. It sent shivers through my body. The tingles weren’t from fear, however. They were from something else. Something a little more carnal than that.

I slowly raised my body from the floor and pressed my back to the metal door once more. “Well, if we are being quite honest,” I said, clearing my throat. “You are not a man and haven’t been one for a long time. A very long time.”

“Oh?” He smirked, leaning forward just a little bit. “So, you summoned me to get fucked by a monster? Is that it?”

“That’s not it, at all,” I interjected, calmly. “It was not my intention to summon you at all. I was simply submitting your grimoire to our archives. I must have done it by accident, somehow.”

He hummed, unamused.

Sukuna’s four eyes were trained on me. He took in my long passion twists and how they were pulled back into a high ponytail. They traveled down my face, taking in my cocoa skin and plump lips. He held his gaze on my mouth for what seemed like an entirety before moving down to my neck and ample bosoms. He sped right past those and my midsection, before zeroing in on my legs. I had been wearing a skirt that fell just above my knees, so the chubby limbs had been on display. The four pupils seemed to be glued to the pale panty-hose covering the thick thighs beneath them. They seemed to be calculating something. Maybe he was determining just how flexible I was or pondering how a woman could be that tall.

Whatever he was thinking about had swiftly left his mind the moment I cleared my throat.

The eyes snapped back up to me and a wicked grin formed on his face.

“There’s something. . . different about you,” he said, suddenly. “Something. . . off.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, adjusting my glasses.

“Well, if we’re being honest,” he mocked, completely mimicking my statement for moments before. “It is not easy to summon anything, especially a demon. Even a lower-ranking demon would require some kind of preparation before his expected arrival.” The hulking monster took a small step toward me, the smile growing wider. “And as you know, little researcher, I am not an easy demon to summon. It takes a really strong mage to summon me at all, let alone by accident.”

In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of me. His face was inches away from mine and his upper arms rested above my head. One of the hands from the lower arms had taken hold of my chin softly and tilted it upward. It forced me to look him in the eye. The smile on his face was devilish, but not at all sinister. Sukuna didn’t necessarily want to scare me it seemed. His other intention? I had no fucking idea.

“I cannot smell fear on you, little human,” he growled. “Not one ounce. But do you know what I do smell?”

He waited.

He wanted me to respond to his question.

“What?”

“Curiosity.” He let the word roll from his tongue like it was something precious.

“Well, of course,” I scoffed. “I am an archivist. It is my job to be curious.”

“No no no,” the monster shook his head. “That’s not it.” He brought his face closer until our noses were an inch apart. “You are curious about what I can do for you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, wiggling my chin from his grasp.

Sukuna moved his back and dropped his smile to a smirk. His upper arms were still above my head, while his lower ones were caging my body. “I can smell you, sweetheart.”

“What?” My eyes widened. “Smell what?”

“Your arousal,” he answered. “And it smells so, very sweet.”

My bottom lip fell between my teeth as felt the blush slowly rise up my cheeks.

His chuckle was deep and raw— and it made my panties even wetter than before. His eyes scanned over my body once again, revisiting the old territory. By the twitching bulge in his pants, I could tell the feeling was mutual. I could feel the heat radiating between our bodies and we haven’t necessarily touched yet. Mine was screaming and begging for my mind to take the opportunity. Finding Sukuna’s grimoire had taken up almost all of my spare time; making it even harder to seek fulfillment in other avenues. I didn’t know when was the last time I entangled my limbs with someone else’s. The temptation was real and strong. I almost didn’t know what to do.

“Hand me the voice recorder,” I sighed with a stern look on my face. “It’s the little gray device near the box.”

With the snap of his fingers, the recording was nestled in my right hand. The King of Curses didn’t move one inch. I brought my eyes back up to his face and took in his devious smirk. It was so knowing and seemed unsurprised of my choice. He almost expected it and I hated that.

I pressed the “stop” button on the device and tossed it aside. I made sure to never break eye contact with the eight-foot monster as my hands lowered to my shirt. My fingers found the buttons and slowly started to undo each one. The King of Curses swiftly lost our little staring contest and stared directly at my chest. My cleavage grew one inch at a time and it seemed he grew harder by the second. Once I was on the last button, Sukuna brought his hands up to touch my breasts, but I immediately slapped them away.

He laughed at the notion. “Oooh, feisty. I love that in a woman.”

“Do you?” I asked with a smile.

“They’re always the best ones to break,” he winked.

I gave him an unamused look. “On your knees.”

A look of genuine shock passed on his face. “Excuse me.”

“Get on your knees,” I enunciated each syllable in the sentence and kept that bored look on my face.

“I think you got it mistaken, sweetheart,” he quipped, bringing his face closer to mine. That time our noses actually touched. “I am the one in charge here.”

A dangerous smirk slowly inched up to my lips and situated itself there. “Tell me, Mr. King of Curses, did you summon yourself or was I the one to do it?”

“You were, but—”

“And according to my research,” I interjected, running a finger along his solid abs. “The summoner is in full control of the demon if there is no bargain made between the two. Meaning, I can keep you here as long as I want and do whatever the fuck I want until I present you with some kind of deal. In other words.” I allowed my hands to slide lower against his abdomen until they brushed against the protruding tent in his leather pants. “I have you by the balls and I am the one in charge.”

There was an expression in his eye that I couldn’t exactly place. It wasn’t anger or frustration. It wavered the line of infatuation and intrigue. Just like me, the nine-hundred-year-old emperor was curious. I don’t think people ever challenged him before, let alone women. It was easy to be afraid of the eight-foot-tall beast. He had four arms and two sets of eyes. All his teeth came down to a point and looked incredibly sharp. He had thick, lined tattoos on every part of his body, including his face. His eyes were an electric red and seemed to bore into one’s soul the longer they looked at you. There were muscles littered all over that massive body and he could move faster than sound itself. Sukuna Ryomen was an obvious apex predator to me and I was nothing but a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

He could have simply rejected my request and placed me on my knees instead. He had all the power to do it.

Yet, he didn’t.

The King of Curses sunk to his knees slowly, keeping eye contact as he did so. He placed his hands on his lap and sat back on his heels. The demon looked up at me with wonder and a little anticipation. He had no idea what I was going to do next.

I let my open dress shirt slip from my arms and fall into a puddle at my feet. The only thing covering my top half was a simple cotton bra. It was pink and thin. When I looked down, I could see my perfectly pebbled nipples through the fabric.

Sukuna could not stop staring at them either.

Slowly, I lifted my left heel from the ground and took my leather pump into my grasp. I slipped the shoe off and tossed it aside. It hit the marble floor with a delayed “thud”. I repeated the action with the other one and looked down at the red-eyed demon. His eyes were still on my chest. I pressed my back against the metal door once more and lifted my stocking-covered foot to his lap. I rubbed my toes along the thick thighs and inched closer to the leather tent situated between them. Gently, I ran my foot against the erect member. My toes wiggled up the thick shaft, attempting to feel it through the thick fabric. I pressed the ball of my foot atop the member and felt Sukuna shiver beneath me.

“Ooh,” I taunted with a smirk. “So you like that?”

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Does it feel good, baby ‘kuna?” I asked, rubbing the ball of my foot against the shaft.

“. . . Yes.”

“Bet you wish I would just unbutton your pants and use my hands, huh?”

The demon groaned and briefly closed his eyes. Sukuna opened his mouth to say something but immediately stopped. He tilted his head to the ceiling and murmured a few words in a language I didn’t recognize. While he was distracted, I removed my foot from his crotch; earning a growl from him. I dropped my hands to my thighs and slowly lifted up my skirt until it was above my rear. I pressed my thumbs in the waistband of both my pantyhose and my underwear and shoved them down. They slid down my smooth legs with ease and ended up at my ankles a moment later. Sukuna’s eyes were back on me. The curly mound was in his eye line and I could see his nostril flare a few times.

It was taking everything in him not to dive right in.

“Come here, pet,” I cooed, widening my legs for him.

The massive demon closed the distance between our two bodies in a heartbeat. Yet, his hands remained on his lap and his gaze was on my face. He was waiting for instruction. I almost giggled at the notion. A famed warlord and emperor was waiting for a mere human to tell him what to do. The situation was ironic in every sense of the word. But, it made my heart swell with pride. I had the deadly man, both alive and dead, on his knees before me. Sukuna was practically begging with his eyes to kiss my cunt. He was doing all he could to be a good little poppet.

“Have a reward for being such an ob—”

My leg was hoisted on his shoulder and the other was hooked on his elevated arm. Both of my feet were off the ground. My thighs were wide apart and my cunt was exposed to the demon’s hot breath. The lower lips were slick and sensitive— which made the sensation even more pleasurable. His heavy, wet tongue slid against the tingling vulva and made my whole body shiver. A silent curse fell from my lips and I took a tight hold of his pink hair. The demon repeated the action several times, before shoving his face between my thighs. His hot mouth latched onto the weeping cunt and began to suck. The air in my lungs had grown thick and it was suddenly hard to take a full breath. In addition to the suction, his plush tongue was lapping against my clit.

“Oooh. . . fuck. . . pet,” I hissed, rolling my hips against his face. “You are so good with that filthy mouth of yours. Keep going like this and I’m gonna cream all over that pretty face.”

Sukuna growled at the statement and pressed his claws into my thighs. The action was light but still heavy. He didn’t want to draw blood, but he still wanted to hold me very tightly.

I lifted one of the massive palms placed on my stomach and lifted it to my face. I took in the thick fingers and the veins along the back of it. There were callouses on the fingers and a few on the inside. His claws were sharp enough to slit a throat, which explains his gentleness with them. I brought the bruised knuckles and gave them a tender kiss. I repeated the action on each finger until I was met with the claws once again. The longer I looked at his fingers, the more I wanted them in my mouth. I lowered my tongue from between my lips and ran the tip of it against the underside of the claws. The demon groaned in response and gripped my thighs tighter. I took long strides against the calloused digits and made sure to keep constant eye contact.

“Can you lose the claws or not?” I asked, breathless.

I could feel my peak gently rising over the horizon. There was a warm sensation slowly growing in my belly and my legs started to buckle. My hips were vibrating against his suckling maw and Sukuna had no intention of stopping any time soon.

Without warning, the claws on all four of his hands started to shrink back into his nail bed. Once they were close enough to the fingertip, the point widened and formed a standard fingernail. It was still black, of course. I smiled wickedly at the fingers and started to lick them all over again. Slowly, I started adding suction to the licks. I moved my lips to each digit, starting at the pinky, until I was left with the middle and an index finger. I bit my bottom lips lightly in anticipation. I was internally scolding myself for being excited over a silly thing.

It was just a hand. It was nothing more. Sure, his palm was almost the size of my face and his fingers were twice the length of mine. It was a standard working man’s hand. The rational part of my brain couldn’t see why a girl would be so infatuated with something so mundane and ordinary. However, the irrational part of my brain couldn’t help but picture them within me. The fingers were so long and inviting— and not to mention pretty thick. Two of them were the width of a standard cock and would fill me decently. But a third would stretch me deliciously. It would do a wonderful job preparing for the monster between his legs.

“Add a finger into my center,” I instructed, lowering his palm from my mouth. “And hook it upward.”

The obedient demon did exactly what he was told and pressed a finger to my center. The digit easily slipped into my awaiting hole. A low moan fell from my lips as he pressed against my G-spot. My hips rolled against his hand, greedy for more friction.

“Add another,” I said quickly.

The need to be stretched was becoming more prevalent and more prevalent. The second finger slipped into my canal and I shuddered. The subtle burn of the intrusion was glorious. The calloused fingertips pressing against the spongy area sent me deeper into bliss. His plump lips were still suckling my throbbing bud. The air in my lungs had gradually started to grow thicker and my body started to tingle. My mouth casually fell open as my eyes closed. My body was buzzing, vibrating from everything that I was experiencing. I had never felt this good with any partner I had. Many would complain about me even asking for oral. While others thought a clit lick was enough to make me cum. Yet, here was a Demon. The King of Curses on his knees feasting on my cunt like it was the last meal he’s ever had. A bloodthirsty heathen, at least according to history, was willing to treat me like a goddess and the mortal men thought me an object.

Of course, it did help that he was attractive— in the worst way possible.

My back arched against the metal door and my hips started to splutter against his face. All the air came rushing into my throat at once. My hand, shakily, gripped one of Sukuna’s spare ones. I interlocked our fingers and squeezed them tightly. I felt the demon tremble from beneath me. My messy cunt humped his pretty face as I rode out the climax. Silent curses fell from my lips like a goddamn sailor and my whimpers were barely audible. Stars exploded behind my eyes and electricity coursed through my veins.

When the wave had come to a staggering halt, I pushed Sukuna’s head away from my oozing pussy. His fingers slipped from my sensitive walls shortly after. The demon set my shaky legs down and sat me on his lap while he rested on his heels. He stared at me with all four of his eyes. A tired smile fell on my lips as I gazed down at him, happily.

“Kiss me.”

His lips were on mine before I could finish the last syllable.

The kiss was slow and sensual. It made my heart grow warm and needy. It felt like something you’d give to a forgotten lover. Like a last effort to remind them of what they had lost. It engulfed me in feelings I hadn’t felt in a long time. Tricked my brain into thinking he actually had feelings for a mere mortal.

I pulled away from the embrace to catch my breath. His kisses continued on. They inched down my jaw and along my neck. My shaky hand reached up to his pink locks and tugged lightly. My body rolled against his; desire was nipping at my heels once more. A pair of hands took hold of my waist and kneaded the soft flesh around it. I sighed, amused at the sensation. The skilled fingers moved lower and lower until they were palming my rear. He squeezed and pinched the soft flesh, growling while he completed the action. The hands moved lower and captured my thighs. He hoisted my body in the air once again. We were still attached at the lips. My hands were in his hair and my hips were rolling against his lap.

"I need you," the demon growled against my neck. "I need to be inside of you. Right now or I'm going to paint the floor with my seed."

He wasn't the type to beg, I knew that for sure. The little statement was meant to suggest that he was nearing his limit. More than ever, he was desperate to be situated between my walls.

A chuckle fell from my lips. "I barely touched you and you're already going to cum? You better not be a minute man, 'Kuna."

He scoffed and lifted his head from my neck. The intensity of his gaze made my insides rumble with delight and my head spin. “Don’t be mistaken, Historian. This little game of yours is truly something, but don’t let it go to your head. I could fuck you to the inch of your life and still wouldn’t reach my peak. You mortals are easy to break, all it takes is a few orgasms and some dirty words.”

I hummed, unamused by the comment. “Is that what you want? To break every woman you come in contact with?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he quipped, pinching my backside.

I didn’t even flinch.

“Well, let’s see how long you can keep up with me, Your Majesty,” I said with a sigh. “Give me your worst.”

“You shouldn’t have said that, little human,” he snickered. “You’re gonna regret it.”

With the flick of his wrist, the remnants of my clothes were in ribbons on the marble floor. Never once did my feet touch the ground in the process either. He cradled me with one pair of arms while using the other to do his dirty work. I was completely bare before Sukuna, and our bare chests were pressed together. His upper arms were caressing and massaging the soft flesh along my back, while his lower arms hooked around my legs and gripped the underside of my thighs. The King of Curses brought his lips to mine once again, before lowering my body onto his awaiting member. I didn’t even notice that he had taken off his pants and exposed the massive rod into the cool air of the room. Due to our position, it was hard to catch a glimpse of what it looked like, but I did feel it.

A gasp fell from my lips as my eyes fell closed. The stretch was delectable and stung marvelously. My oozing walls contracted against the throbbing member, almost begging him for inch after inch. The girth was unimaginable and it almost brought tears to my eyes. I dug my nails into the Curse’s forearms and tossed my head back. Silent moans kissed my lips as my walls continued to ooze all around him. Sukuna’s breath grew coarse and his grip on my thighs was tight. I could feel his eyes staring at me; taking in my lewd demeanor and the feeling of my tight pussy.

Before we both knew it, his entire length was situated in me and it seemed to shock him greatly.

“How fascinating,” he marveled, moving his upper hands to hips. “Never has a human taken all of me, without some resistance. This union is going to be better than I originally anticipated.”

“I’m ready when you are, ‘Kuna,” I said, gripping his forearms tightly.

The eight-foot-tall curse started off slowly raising my body off his shaft and lowering back down gently. It was a cautionary measure to just how much I could take and how fast. Little by little he increased his speed and pressure. More and more my body bounced with such rigor and persistence. I didn’t start to truly make noise until the monster was basically dropping me on his awaiting cock as if I weighed nothing at all. Shouts mixed with moans spilled from my lips as I looked up at his face. Sukuna wore a cocky smirk with pride. It felt as though he was proud of himself for obtaining such a reaction out of me. I dug my nails into his forearms and watched as his smirk faltered from the sensation.

Pain must’ve been the easiest way to his heart.

The heavy member was stretching out my poor womanhood in every direction. However, I could feel the plush head hitting a spot deep within my cunt, just beneath my cervix. The pleasurable sensation was making every nerve in my body sing. The longer his thrusts invaded my welcoming body, the closer I was being brought to orgasm. It wasn’t long before my thighs started to tremble from the insane movements of the monster. A thin sheet of sweat started to form on my body. I could feel my walls flutter rapidly against the massive cock and tension build in my lower abdomen.

“Gonna cum already?” He snickered. “I thought you said I was supposed to keep up with you?”

I lazy smile fell on my lips. “Your ignorance is showing, baby ‘Kuna.”

“Please do share, Miss Historian.”

Before I could reply to the statement, the King of Curse started to drop me even harder on his cock. The additional pressure on my a-spot had forced an electric shock through my body. My upper half jolted forward and my grip on his forearms tightened even more. I could see my knuckles begin to turn white from the hold I had on him. All the nerves in my body began to buzz and my abdomen started to ache. The climax was close enough for me to taste, but not close enough to devour. The need to cum had taken over every other thought in my mind. The worries about how dangerous the monster fucking me had slipped away. I no longer cared that he had been the most dangerous man in history, nor did I care about how completely insane the evening had been with him. I had never imagined being entangled with such a notorious curse and having him fucking me for the last hour with little kickback. I couldn’t believe how much I was enjoying having this monster at my beck and call. Nor could I believe that he sank to his knees and submitted to me.

It wasn’t something I had been expecting, but I sure as hell wanted more of it.

The orgasm struck my body like an arrow and threw me forward. Sukuna quickly repositioned his hands— wrapping two arms around my upper back and two around my waist. My thighs hooked around his hips and my arms were placed around his neck. My entire body was convulsed from the orgasm. I pressed my face fell against his smooth chest as I shivered against him. Curses and whimpers oozed from my lips as my cunt painted his dick with a thick creamy substance. He never stopped his thrusts. Sukuna kept the same, hard and quick pace as I became undone before him. The feeling was completely otherworldly and indescribable. I never wanted him to stop. I never wanted to be apart from him. I wanted our bodies to be joined together forever.

When the final wave of the orgasm left, an insatiable feeling had taken its place. An unrecognizable greed ate at my womb, begging the monster to fill it to the brim with his seed. The need wasn’t something I was ashamed of, but I wouldn’t dare share it with Sukuna. The King of Curses would let the statement go straight to his head.

I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his half-hooded eyes. He was studying me closely. Taking in my every reaction to see what my body craved the most. It made my heart flutter.

While his hips worked their magic, I leaned back into his arms and placed my hands on his shoulders. Slowly, I moved my left hand along his collarbone and placed it at the base of his neck. His eyes were focused on my face, a look of encouragement on his face. He wanted to be choked. His crimson eyes were practically begging me for it.

But, I needed to hear him say it.

I moved my hand back to his shoulder but never broke eye contact. A look of disappointment flashed upon his face before he quickly washed it away

“If you want something, pet,” I offered with a smirk. “You gotta use your big boy words.”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied, the smirk widening to a smile. “Now, come on, baby ‘Kuna, tell your Mistress what you want her to do to you.”

A sigh fell from his lips and he briefly closed his eyes. “Will you. . . Can you. . . choke you me. . . please?”

I could feel my heart flutter once more from the broken sentence. I was almost tempted to ask him to repeat it, but I knew he wouldn’t no matter how much I begged. The shameful look he gave me when he opened his eyes made my insides stir. It added to the overall pleasure of the slow, deep thrusts he had been giving me. My chest was swelling with an emotion I didn’t fully recognize and I was almost scared to acknowledge it. There were remnants of love and longing in his gaze. I had seen glimpses of the emotions earlier, but I had tried to convince myself that I was going insane. Yet, the more I looked at him, the clearer his emotions seemed to me.

Slowly, I placed my hand on his neck and gave it a subtle squeeze.

His eyes fluttered closed and a low groan erupted from his abdomen. “Harder. . .” The request was just above a whisper, but it echoed through my mind loudly.

Like the good Mistress I was, I complied.

Realizing that Sukuna was far from human— and didn’t require air to survive— placed an evil idea in my mind. I mustered up all the strength in my right hand and squeezed his thick neck with everything in me. I watched my knuckles flicker from their usual color to a chalk-white as I did so. The massive monster shivered underneath me and his eyes fluttered shut. Deep, animalistic growls pierced the air around us. They were followed by the swift changing of his thrusts against my body. Instead of fucking me tenderly with a hint of aggression, Sukuna had switched to screwing me like he hated me. His hips slammed against my center with such rigor, I almost couldn’t think straight. My whole body bounced and jumped against his. My breath grew thick in my throat and my nerves seemed to sing. My thighs grew slicker and slicker by the second until I was sure my arousal was oozing all over his lap.

“Fuck!” Sukuna growled, beneath me. “Why do you feel so good around me, mortal?”

I didn’t even have the air to respond to him. My head was doing a dangerous dance and jumbling all the thoughts within it. Even in my sedated state, I maintained the pressure I had on his neck. I could feel his thick member jolt and twitch within me. The reaction seemed to surprise him as well. His body took off in a smooth vibration as growls erupted from his throat. The King of Curses was nearing his end, only after about 30 minutes of constant penetration. To a human, that length of stamina would’ve been impressive. He would have been categorized as a good amongst men. But for a monster? It was questionable. Sukuna was known to fight for days without breaking a sweat. He could obliterate armies and leave relatively unharmed. There had been stories of his whore-ish escapades as well. Tales on how he had to reserve almost ten women in a brothel to get his rocks off. The stories, also, continued to say how each woman had to be given a “rest day” after spending a night with him and would happily do it all over again.

His hips vibrated against my pelvis and I felt his grip tighten on my thighs. A string of curses dripped from his tongue and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m gonna paint those pretty walls with my seed,” he growled, thrusting even faster into my cunt. “Mark my fucking territory so no other man can enter.”

The sensation in my belly was downright undeniable. The chilly approach to the climax had first taken over my toes. Numbness inched up the little nubs and to my calves. However, there was a change in temperature as it approached my thighs. I was no longer cold in that area, but insanely hot. There was heat that radiated from Sukuna and glittered over to me. My thighs felt as though they were burning and my stomach was on fire. Yet, it wasn’t painful. It was pleasurable. It gave me an added adrenaline boost. Instead of freezing like a fawn when the climax approached, I attacked like a bear. My nails dug into Sukuna’s neck and shoulder. I tossed my head back fiercely and felt the scrunchie holding my twists burst. Long strands cascaded over my naked, sweaty body.

“Harder,” I growled, my head tilted to the ceiling. “Come on, pet. Fuck me like you mean it.”

My back hit the table moments later. My thighs were still spread open and wide for the monster. He pressed his body against mine completely— the closest we have been since this whole ordeal— and started to rut into me. Filling me over and over again with his over-sensitive cock. The pants coming from his lips sounded criminal and downright wrong. It was strange to hear a monster almost out of breath, especially when to sex. The activity was so natural in comparison to what atrocities Sukuna was usually up to. It felt like the King was giving me all he had in that last round. Mustering up his last bit of stamina to satisfy his mistress.

That forbidden feeling was stirring in me once again. The one that felt dangerously similar to love. Even with my nearly fucked-out brain, I knew it was impossible to feel that way about someone I had just met a little while ago. It was even more irresponsible to feel that way about a literal King of Curses. A former menace to society in life and current pain in the ass in death. Just as much as Sukuna pleasured me, he annoyed the absolute shit out of me as well. His arrogant attitude and boastful demeanor almost made me hate him. Almost. It was his wavering obedience and the look I got when I choked him that changed my mind. I couldn’t hate him. At least not right now.

The orgasm was mind-numbing and appeared out of nowhere. It was the strongest of the three and seemed to have sent me into the atmosphere. My back arched against the table and my nails dug into his ribs. My eyes rolled back and my mouth fell open. Above me, I could feel Sukuna’s body freeze for a few seconds. His hips jolted and trembled fiercely as his cock spasmed within me. Hot cum spilled from his slit and oozed into my awaiting pussy. Broken breaths fell from his lips as he gathered my body into his arms once again. Sukuna wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. A searing kiss was placed on my lips as he lazily thrust into my slick cunt. It felt as though he wanted to empty every last drop into me before pulling away.

Yet, even when he finished emptying his load into me, the King of Curses still held me in his arms. The kiss had long been broken, but his forehead was pressed against mine afterward. His eyes were closed and his breathing was soft. There was a peaceful look on his face. He didn’t seem to be the massive warlord, the King of Curses, or the cocky bastard that blew my back out— he was simply Sukuna and that was enough for me. My hands found refuge in his hair. I stroked the pink locks tenderly and hummed sweetly. That forbidden feeling hadn’t left just yet. Everything about that moment oozed intimacy and, dare I say it, love. As much as I wanted more of it— as much as I fucking craved it— I knew it was not meant to be. I knew I had to be satisfied with just this. My hands in his hair and his body against my own.

“You stole something from me,” Sukuna spoke, finally lifting his forehead from mine. He opened his crimson eyes and searched my face. I didn’t know what he was looking for.

I lowered my hand from his hair. “What did I steal?”

“My power,” he replied, wrapping his arms around me and pulling away. “You stole my power. Well, some of it at least.”

I sat up at the edge of the table and combed a twist behind my ear. “What are you talking about? How is that even possible?”

“It isn’t possible!” He snapped back with his back to me.

His heavy feet paced around the small archive room and there was a quizzical expression on his face. The monster had been completely deep in thought. He was working out every possible answer, theory, or hypothesis in his head as to what the hell was going on. Wondering how a mere mortal could conjure him with any preparation. Thinking about how she was able to make him subtle to her with little effort. Questioning how it was even possible that she could steal some of his power if she wasn’t a curse user. I knew what he was thinking because I too was thinking the exact same thing. The situation was bizarre for both parties and left us both stumped.

Until my eyes dropped to the discarded grimoire on the floor and something suddenly clicked.

“I didn’t steal your power,” I said, watching Sukuna stop in his tracks at the sound of my voice. “I contained it.”

Slowly, his head turned to me as the thought penetrated his mind as well. A slow, cocky smile was pulled onto his lips.

“You are my vessel,” he replied. “My anchor in the mortal world.”

“In other words, I am—”

“Destined to be mine. Forever.”

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a/n: what's good y'all? I know I am hella late to kinktober, but here's my submission. I wanted to do something a little different for you y'all. do you we like the longer stories? how do we feel about the prompts? be honest tell me how you feel about it. i love reading your comments.

also, I will post a new story before the end of October, so watch out for that.

thinking about an official taglist. how do we feel about that?

see you soon.

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melancholymetropolis · 7 months

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If I tell you what I am writing, you gotta promise not to jump me.

I mean like pinkie promise.

#author notes #confessions #updates

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melancholymetropolis · 8 months

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"You're so cute when you moan like that" Geto smirked.

My legs trembled as the older man angled the showerhead directly toward my aching bud. There was no need to spread my lower lips to feel the pleasurable sensation of the water; the jest had been powerful enough without the action. My hand took a tighter hold of the metal bar before me and I attempted to brace myself for what would come. His thick member slowly slipped back into my sopping wet cunt, earning another moan from me. Geto rolled his hips tenderly against my plump rear, sending shockwaves through my body.

"Uh. . . that feels so good," I slurred throwing my hips back to meet his thrusts.

"Naughty girl."

Only for you.

Geto Suguru wasn't someone I told my mother about, nor was he someone I mentioned to friends.

He was a little secret I had kept to myself.

The sudden increase in pace had sent my heart into a frenzy. The continuous snap of his hips sent my body forward, resulting in my breasts being pressed against the glass. My legs graduated from trembling to absolutely shaking beneath my body. The hard pleasure rod was beating up my cunt like a boxer. Tirelessly and without remorse. I had already had three orgasms up until that point, but I knew the fourth would be stronger than all of them. I could feel the pressure slowly begin to build in my abdomen.

"You're squeezing me so tight, beautiful," he purred into my ear. "You're about to cum again, aren't you?"

"Ugh. . . yes!"

"Good. Make sure to scream for me."

He brought the showerhead closer to my womanhood. The strong jets pounded on my swollen clit from behind my vulva. The feeling was overwhelming. My hand immediately shot down to block the jets, but Geto slapped it away.

"You begged for this," he whispered in my ear. "You begged for me like a cock-hungry slut for weeks on end. And you think you can chicken out now? Absolutely not."

I shuddered from the feeling of his hot breath fanning my ear.

"You will take it," he grunted. His hips, too, were faltering from his nearing peak. "You will take what I give you, like a grateful little girl. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I panted, arching my back against him.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

152 notes · View notes

melancholymetropolis · 8 months

Text

The Summoning

plot: Reader is freshly separated from her shitty ex and buys a new house in the middle of nowhere.

pairings: TraditionalVampire!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

genre(s): Soulmate AU; Forced Proximity; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited. mentions of DV and abuse. LARGE AGE GAP (Miguel is almost 300 years old). creepy basement. reader is very reserved, but not really shy. miguel falls first and HARD. mind reading. declarations of love every five minutes. miguel is an absolute simp for this woman. PIV SEX. BLOOD DRINKING. pet names (darling, sweetheart, mi amor, etc.) praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds.

a/n: there is over 4k words of smut in this. you're welcome.

w.c: 7.5k

Something had drawn me to the basement. The broker told me that it was completely bare and covered in cement. There was nothing to see or storage yet— since I just officially moved in last week. But my body kept pulling through the Victorian manor anyway. I descended the grand staircase, into the kitchen, and right to the back door. The basement had been directly adjacent to it. A tingling sensation coursed through me as I turned the doorknob and inched down the stairs. My nerves were buzzing and my head was going fuzzy. I could almost hear a voice crawling through my mind. It scoured the vast plane before meeting my subconscious. Despite the intrusive nature of the presence, I was not threatened by it. For some reason, my body did the exact opposite: I welcomed it. As I walked through the pitch-black basement, I allowed the foreign spirit to enter my mind.

Come to me, gentle creature.

In the far edge of the dark abyss, a candle flickered on. It was followed by another and another. One by one candles started to light throughout the room. Warm light started to gradually fill the space around me. They formed a perfect ring around me. My eyes drifted to the ground and widened at the sight. Words scribbled in yellow chalk were written underneath my feet. I captured words like “sanguis”, “potator”, “monstrum”, and “daemonium”. It was times like this that I wished I took Latin more seriously in High School. I would be able to beautifully translate the foreign tongue below me. I narrowed my eyes and continued to search the scribbles on the floor. There had to be something I recognized, some word in English that didn’t stray far from its Latin roots.

Suddenly, another candle flickered to life; following the same pattern as earlier. But, instead of following a circle pattern, it created a path to the other side of the room. The low light exposed more Latin words written in chalk on the floor. The loopy handwriting was almost decorative with how it graced the floor. Some sentences seemed never-ending. They covered the floors entirely; my eyes didn’t know where to look. I scanned the scattered lettering frantically, trying to piece together anything that could tell me what the hell was going on.

About thirty feet away from me, the thick path of candles split into two. It started to form another shape— it was a rectangle. Just outside the shape, my eyes picked up a word written in bright red. I didn’t need translation to understand what it meant, as its meaning was universal.

VAMPYRUS

The entire basement was encased in the warm light of hundreds of candles. The entire room was covered in Latin scribbling and horrific drawings. There were images of a massive figure with great fangs. He was drawn with bright red eyes and a disgusting scowl. His nails had been massive and strong. There had been claw marks embedded into the cement walls. Dried spatters of blood dripped near them. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest as my breathing increased. Panic coursed through me as I took several shaky steps backward. Then it finally hit me. The rectangular shape was not a decorative choice. The candles had been surrounding something I almost didn’t recognize: a casket.

Don’t be afraid, tender beauty. I am no harm to you.

Before I could even acknowledge the voice ringing in my mind, the lid of the casket started to slide open. Inch by inch it moved from the inside as subtle movement sounded from within the space. My mind was racing, desperately trying to piece together how I could get out of the situation. From the copious amounts of pop culture that I had consumed, I knew that vampires were vulnerable to silver of any kind and fire. Yet, the only silver thing I had to my name was a crucifix my grandmother gave me for my 15th birthday. There had been no signs of any wood near me, meaning I couldn’t make a stake even if I knew how. The candle’s fire was too weak to create any damage and to form a lasting flame.

I was simply stuck.

The casket’s lid fell to the ground with a loud thud. A massive body began to rise from within the space. A broad chest was covered in a pristine white dress shirt, which seemed to glow in the low light. That was the only thing I caught a glimpse of before the vampire’s body came racing toward me. I didn’t even have time to scream. His hands were on my body before I could blink. They gripped my waist tightly, before pulling me into a tight embrace. My head rested comfortably at the top of his abdomen, while my arms lay limp at my sides. The vampire had been at least a foot taller than me and I was no small girl. I was roughly 5ft10, definitely taller than the average woman in town. The creature’s size and gentleness had been a peculiar combination. It was something I wasn’t expecting.

“So. . . you’re not gonna kill me?” I asked awkwardly.

“Of course not,” he stated, pulling away from the embrace a bit. His deep brown eyes glimmered in the low light. “I believe I told you I wouldn’t, mi amor.”

His voice was smooth and thick. There was a hint of an accent there as well. On any other occasion, I would've found the man insanely attractive. He had strong features: deep-set brown eyes, a strong straight nose, and prominent cheekbones. The vampire’s thick black curls were combed back, highlighting his perfectly shaped eyebrows. His warm skin tone laid the pale-skinned vampire myth out to dry. The monster before looked graciously kissed by the sun as did I. In this low light, it seemed like we have the same complexion. That little fact gave me some kind of solace.

I would much rather be in a ring of candles with a BIPOC vampire, than a grumpy white one.

I slipped out of the arms of the swooning vampire and created some space between our trembling bodies. "Can we. . . uh. . . talk?"

"Yes, I would love that," he replied with a firm nob.

On the outside, his emotions seemed completely unreadable. He looked every bit like a big, scary vampire from the past. However, something within me told me otherwise. The familiar fuzzy feeling from before was coursing through me. Waves of curiosity, adoration and. . . relief washed over me. Everything within me told me that he was waiting for this very moment for a long time. That the vampire had waited a significant time to meet and embrace me. He wanted nothing more than to be in close proximity to me for an eternity.

"Could we maybe not have this conversation in a creepy, witchy basement?" I suggested, hesitantly.

"Anything for you."

Before I could utter another word, the massive vamp placed one arm underneath my knees and another against my shoulder blades. In one fell swoop, he lifted me off the ground and started walking to the stairs.

"Wait! The candles—"

Just as they lit themselves up, they sizzled out.

The vampire took careful steps out of the basement. He held me firmly against his body as he slowly climbed up the stairs and walked through the corridor. His eyes drifted along the walls, taking in the home's decor. He nodded at the forest-green walls and mused at the gold accents. Upon entering the living room, the vampire’s eyes flickered to the window. He took in the full moon in the sky, allowing the milky light to coat his skin.

After about thirty seconds, the vampire remembered where he was and placed me on a nearby couch. He took a seat in the spot next to me and remained silent. Almost like he was waiting for further instruction.

I nervously turned away from his fiery gaze and cleared my throat. The tension between us had already been so intense and we just met. It was so hard to focus when something so attractive was close to me.

Breathe, little dove. There's no need to rush anything. We have an eternity together.

"That! How do you do that?" I blurted. "How can I hear your voice in my mind?"

"Because we are fated to be together," he replied simply.

"You're gonna have to give me more than that, vamps," I chided, crossing my arms over my chest. "Let's start with your name. Who are you? Why were you in my basement?"

"My name is Miguel O'Hara," he started. "I was born in 1723 in Mexico. My mother was Mexican and my father was Irish— their love was the purest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t forbidden, but interracial relationships weren't exactly common. My Mexican side didn't necessarily appreciate my mother dating someone that wasn't her heritage, so they pushed me out of the village when I was ten years old." He sighed and shook his head at the statement. Almost as if he was still in disbelief by it. "We lived in the woods for about five years peacefully, until fever struck. It had taken both of my parents in a matter of weeks. Leaving teenage me to fend for myself after that."

Although I wasn't expecting to give his entire life story, I wasn’t mad at it. It gave some humanity to the hulking man next to me.

"I met a witch not too long after that. She invited me into her home, fed me, and gave me a change of clothes," Miguel continued. "She was the first kind person I met in a long time and I decided to stick beside her. We grew close and I told her everything. About my parent's relationship, how their families rejected me, and how utterly lonely I felt when they died. I told her how I, one day, wanted to share that same love with someone. How I wanted to devote my life to that person. How I wanted to live forever with them."

"You were cursed, weren't you?"

"At the time, it was meant to be a blessing. Something to give me hope. Something to make me want to continue living, because I was tired," he confessed.

"Oh, no. . . I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

But the look on his face told me that it still bothered him.

We stood in silence for a few moments, just letting the information settle in the room. I couldn’t stop glancing at his saddened face every so often. There was something deep within me yearning to comfort him. I wanted to embrace his huge body and place his head against my chest. I'd say sweet nothings, while I played in his hair. I wanted him to hear the steady beat of my heart, in hopes that it would soothe him.

It would, gentle creature. Just one touch and all the pain would drift away from my body.

My eyes widened at the statement as a fate blush dusted my cheeks. "Woo. . . lord give me strength," I swallowed hard. "You know how to make a girl feel special."

"That's because you are," Miguel replied, gripping both my hands. "I waited over a century to be graced with your presence and I could already tell it was worth the wait. Everything about you is just so intoxicating, from those big brown eyes to that wondrous mind. You are everything I ever wanted and more."

My heartbeat started to increase once more, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was lust. To hear such tender words from a man like him had made my heart glow and my womanhood heat. He was praising me for simply existing and that was enough for him. He didn't expect me to be anyone else or to change. From what I could tell, he liked me just the way I was.

Unlike Richard, my soon-to-be ex-husband.

The ill thought made a sour look flutter onto my face. I shoved the faulty memories back into the box that they sprang out of and sighed. I wasn’t to think about the divorce, let alone talk about it.

"So, given the information you have provided, you are about 300 years old," I concluded.

"That is correct."

"And it would be safe to assume that this used to be your house?"

"Yup."

"And you've been in the basement the entire time?"

"Mhm."

"And the real estate agent knew?"

"Not exactly," he countered. "The section of the basement we were in was sealed off for at least a century. I had started to lose faith in your arrival and decided to rest until I was graced with your presence. The witch had told me that I would instinctively know it was you. There would be some kind of force pushing us both together. And she was right. I mean why else would you buy a house in the middle of nowhere."

I turned away from him, desperately trying to limit the thoughts of my past from flaring right back up. I simply wasn't ready to share that part with him yet.

A yawn, suddenly, ripped through me and took over my being. I looked down at my wristwatch and realized that it was well into two o'clock in the morning.

"How about we call it a night?" Miguel suggested. "You seem exhausted and we could always continue this tomorrow."

"Alright," I said, slowly rising to my feet. "Well, good night then."

"Good night, sweetheart."

Miguel O'Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense of the word. He was allergic to silver and all things holy. Meaning, that little crucifix my grandmother gave me had to stay in the jewelry box from that point forward. He was also deathly sensitive to sunlight and remained asleep for the majority of the day. He didn't necessarily prefer to sleep in the coffin, but he continued out of respect for me.

Finally, he drank blood and from the dried splatters along the wall, lots of it. I didn’t know where he got it or who he got it from, but I refused to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.

After a few more encounters with the friendly vampire, he revealed that he awoke from his deep slumber a month before our meeting. It was around the time I was touring the house for the first time. Miguel detailed how his heart grew with anticipation as my footsteps echoed throughout the home. He knew from the moment I stepped out of the car that I was the woman he was looking for, a missing piece to a very complicated puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to me, but since I primarily arrived at the estate during the daytime he couldn't.

In pure vampiric fashion, Miguel decided to wait on the night of the full moon to make his grand appearance. The mysticism of the event was supposed to soften the blow, at least that's what he assumed. Since the curse was performed on a full moon, our connection would be amplified during that time. Which was why he was able to read my thoughts so clearly and I read his emotions.

The more I talked to Miguel, the more fairy tale-esque the situation felt. It was as though I was a princess, forced to stay in a drafty old castle with a mysterious prince. Someone that looked brutal and monstrous on the outside. Someone that has the capability of ripping someone's head off without breaking a sweat. Yet, he was the kindest man I had ever met.

My eyes flickered over to one of the many gifts that Miguel has given me over the last few days. There had been about two dozen Double Delight roses sitting in a pristine crystal vase before me. Their white core seemed to glow in the moonlight, while red tips glittered like rubies. I had never seen something so pretty. I don’t know how he managed to order them, with him being a vampire and all, but the action had struck something in me. Miguel didn’t get me flowers out of obligation. He didn’t get them because it was an anniversary or a birthday. He had gotten them just because he knew they would bring me joy.

I cried when I saw them.

"You have to stop crying every time I give you something," Miguel said, placing a box on the kitchen counter. "You're going to make me want to kill your past lovers."

My eyes widened at the statement. "Why would you do that?"

"Because they didn't treat you right," he replied nonchalantly. "I mean, what is courting if not showering a woman with gifts?"

I could feel the tears immediately well in my eyes. "Miguel. . . " I murmured.

"You didn’t even open the gift and you're already crying," he tsked. The vampire pulled a tissue from the box and lifted it to my face. "May I?"

I nodded.

Miguel closed the gap between us. His massive body towered over my own, completely encasing me against the counter. He brought the tissue to the corner of my eye and began to dab. His tired brown eyes fazed into mine with an unreadable emotion. It was a cross between uncertainty and adoration. It was almost like he was pondering whether I had truly been his perfect match. If I would ever accept the union and show him who I was. He could sense that I was hiding something, but never pushed. Miguel was a patient man. He was fine waiting an eternity for me to trust him, as long as I stayed with him.

The vampire lowered the tissue from my face but kept his body close to mine. His brown eyes stayed steady on my face. They digested my worrisome demeanor and presented a soft facial expression. I took my bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled nervously. My eyes kept stealing glances at his soft lips. They have been my main distraction for the past month and I was beginning to lose my self-control.

As a freshly separated woman, the temptation was as strong as ever. A big, strong, rich vampire wanted to take care of me for an eternity? How does one say no to that? I was struggling too.

Kiss me.

I shouted the two words out loud in my mind, in hopes that he'll hear them. His eyes widened from the statement and a slow smile crept onto his face. His muscular arms wrapped around my plump body and pulled me even closer to him. I could feel my ample bosoms squish against his hard abdomen, which sent a shiver down our spine. Miguel’s thoughts were just as dirty as mine and we were tempted to make them a reality.

The vampire slowly leaned on closer, forcing our noses to touch. He parted his lips and gradually inched towards my mouth. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. The first brush of his lips made my heart stop. My knees felt weak and Miguel had to gather me in his arms. A pleasurable sensation skated across my nerves. Fireworks had exploded behind my closed eyes and everything seemed to still be around me.

It was simply magical.

Miguel goes to pull away, but I grip his shirt to stop him. Slowly but surely I had found my strength and hooked my arms around his neck. I kissed him back. I welcomed every emotion that blossomed from our union. Adoration. Longing. Lust. I moaned against his lips and brought my body closer to his. A growl erupted behind his throat as he lifted me off the ground. My legs were wrapped around his hips and my arms were securely around his neck.

Are you sure this is what you want, mi amor?

His Latin accent was thicker than usual in my mind. The lust was quickly eating away at his polished demeanor. The carnal desires were slowly coming to the light and his inner beast was almost ready to pounce.

I couldn’t wait.

I pulled away from the drooling vampire and scanned his face. His pupils were dilated and his mouth was partially open. He didn't have to use his lungs or breathe if he didn't want to. Yet, Miguel was heaving. The kiss had seemed to bring life to him, forcing him to take rapid breaths.

His thoughts were loud in my mind.

Miguel wanted me. He wanted me in every way one could imagine.

He wanted me on the floor. Bent over the couch. Against the wall. He wanted me in the shower, hands pressed against the glass. Hovering over the bathroom sink with my arms behind my back. He wanted me in the kitchen, across the island with my legs on his shoulders. He wanted me in the study, fucking me so hard the books fell off the shelves. He wanted me in my bed, my thighs smothering his face while my hips wiggled against his mouth.

Miguel wanted to truly break the house— our house in. The vampire wanted to fuck me on every available flat surface possible; from the top of his coffin in the basement to the expensive rug in front of the fireplace. He wanted me in the best and the worst way. He wanted me in any way he could have me.

And, to my surprise, I was going to let him.

I want you, Miguel. I want you so bad it hurts.

His eyes fluttered closed and he tightened his grip on my body. Miguel pressed his forehead to mine and released a shaky breath. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear, Y/N.”

His plump lips locked with mine moments later. The kiss was even more intense than its predecessor and it made spin. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling the curls as I wiggled my tongue in his mouth. The Latin man blindly started to take steps out of the kitchen. Like an expert, he managed to walk through the hallway without bumping into any furniture or walls. He slowly walked up the stairs, while dropping messy kisses down my jaw and to my neck. My eyes rolled back as he sucked the tender area. My whimpers bounced through the house without warning. The sheer sounds of my pleasure were starting to stir things within me.

My ex always wanted me to be quiet when the moment came. He said my moans were “nauseating” and took him out of the mood. Richard preferred I be as silent as a mouse while he climbed on top of me a humped me like a rabid dog. The sex never lasted longer than ten minutes and there was rarely any foreplay. The act felt like a chore, rather than an activity we could enjoy together.

It was one of the many things Richard ruined for me.

Miguel lowered my body onto a familiar surface and pulled me away from the embrace. I opened my eyes to see his big brown eyes staring down at me. A look of pure bliss had graced his face as a took me in. He looked at me as if I were the only woman in the entire world. Like I was his most prized possession. Miguel O’Hara looked at me as if I was his entire reason for existing and I could feel my heart swell with an emotion I almost forgot existed: love.

I was beginning to fall in love with a man I had barely known for a month.

I was falling in love with a man that rested for a hundred years, waiting for me.

I had started to fall in love with a vampire. A monster to some, but an absolute sweetheart to me.

The fanged bastard was starting to creep into my cold heart and repair everything I thought was broken forever.

Miguel had made me realize that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I wasn’t broken. I just needed the right lover to make me whole.

My trembling hands reached for the buttons on my shirt. I fumbled with the little pieces of plastic, silently cursing myself for being so nervous. Without saying a word, Miguel’s gentle hands replaced my own. His nimble fingers undid the buttons in a matter of seconds. He slipped the cotton garment off my shoulders and tossed it aside. The longs digits gently caressed my soft center and shoulders. Miguel’s touches were light and respectful— something I wasn’t particularly craving at that moment. With shaky hands, I fumbled with the belt buckle of my pants. I undid the fastening of the dark blue jeans and started to push them down my waist. The vampire moved his hands lower, assisting me in the undressing activity. As he did that, I removed the hair clip from my head and allowed my box braids to fall to my back.

Miguel growled at the sight. He took in my pretty purple lingerie set and crawled on the bed. It was a vintage lacy number, with handmade lace and silk ribbons. I had bought it sometime after he had given me the twelfth gift; it was one he had to assemble. His bulging muscles and breathy grunts had practically pushed me to the lingerie website. My dirty, little mind couldn’t help but imagine him making those noises while I was underneath him. For that reason, I decided I needed to be ready. I needed to wear lingerie just in case I got lucky.

“You’re as beautiful as a painting, mi amor,” he purred. “I could stare at you forever.”

A warm sensation arose to my cheeks as my heart began to pound. “Miguel. . .”

“My darling. . .” he replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped the thin cotton fabric from his muscular arms and tossed it aside. “I have waited for this. . .” Miguel unbuckled his pants. “I have waited for you. . .” He slid the dark grey trousers down his muscle thighs and allowed them to pool at his ankles. “For over a century and that wasn’t nearly as hard as being in the same house with you for the past four weeks.”

The final thing remaining on his body was a pair of boxer briefs, which I had bought him. The bulge, now unrestricted, was bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. It was bigger than I could have ever had, yet I wasn’t scared. If what he told me was true, then we were made for each other. Completely destined to be united. So, in other words, I should be able to take his monster dick with no problem.

Touch me.

Within seconds, his massive body was hovering atop mine. His lips were dancing along my neck as his fingertips wiggled between my thighs. They pushed past my waistband and down my curly mound. The callous pads gently caressed the sensitive lower lips, which caused my body to shiver. They separated the vulva and found my happy-swollen pearl instantly. A gasp erupted from my throat as the man above me rubbed large circles against it. It had been so long since I had been touched so intimately by someone else— I had almost forgotten what the sensation felt. Moans spilled from my lips as my hands pulled against his hair. My body vibrated against his, begging Miguel to take it just a single step further. My slick channel felt so empty and practically unused. It craved to be stretched and probed.

“You are so wet. . .” The vampire growled against my neck. “I’ve barely even touched you. . .”

“Please. . .” I mewled, rolling my body against his. “Stop the teasing. . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Miguel released a deep chuckle. “Whatever you say, mi amor.”

In the blink of an eye, my underwear was off and the vampire was beneath me. My thighs rested on either side of his handsome face and his large hands were on my hips. I looked down and immediately noticed the facial expression he chose to wear for that occasion. It was pure adoration. My curly mound and sensitive vulva were in his direct line of vision. The vampire had been staring at it as if it were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen in his 300+ years of living. With tender hands, he pushed my hovering hips down on his open, waiting maw. Electricity shot through my body as his tongue lapped against my folds.

“Oh fuck. . .”

My hips rolled against his eager face, while I used the headboard to stabilize myself. The velvet muscle caressed the sensitive area, sending shocks through my body. His firm grasp directed my hips closer to his face. The gentle pulling didn’t stop until my pelvis was comfortably resting on the hot mouth and prickly chin. The fear of smothering him had come and gone; Miguel O’Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense. He didn’t need to breathe. He could feast on my beloved womanhood for as long as he desired without coming up for air. Shivers ran through my spine from the idea. A feeling of triumph coursed through my veins, alongside the pleasure giving me goosebumps. I had truly hit the lover jackpot of the millennia.

Eventually, his soft lips found the aching pearl underneath her curtains. The lips wrapped around the bud and trapped her in a cage. A powerful suction fired up in Miguel’s mouth and my eyes snapped open from the action. My hips started to have a mind of its own. I rolled them faster on his face, harder too. He alternated between sucking and lapping the oozing cunt— my god did it feel oh so good. Desire was coursing through my needy body. A hunger I didn’t recognize was forming in the pit of my stomach. There was a sort of power in the position Miguel had placed me in. My thighs were completely smothering his face and his mouth was full of my cunt. My hips were fucking his hot mouth like they only had five minutes left on Earth. My hands gripped the headboard so tightly I thought I might break it. I could feel my peak nearing, but the notion didn’t stop my movements. I fucked myself against his mouth for what felt like hours until my back suddenly arched and my toes curled.

“Fuck!” I cursed as my legs shook against his face. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face!”

Slowly, all the feeling left my body except Miguel’s mouth on my pussy. My limbs numbed and my head drew blank. I could no longer hear the sounds of the sultry moans dripping from my lips, just my rapid heartbeat exploding in my chest. There was a warm sensation at the pit of my stomach, one I hardly recognized. My mouth fell open and my movements came to a screeching halt. My thighs squeezed shut, and my body hunched forward. One of my hands gripped his hair, while the other remained on the headboard. Short shouts spilled from my lips. Incoherent phrases followed soon after. There was not a cohesive thought in my mind at that moment.

The orgasm felt long and raw. It unearthed something unholy within me. I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him. I needed Miguel inside of me right then and right now.

When my soul had returned to my body, I dragged my twitching lower half to his awaiting cock. It was still hard, throbbing, and glistening. I wrapped my hand around the shaft and ran the tip along my puffy pussy. I let it circle my clit a few times before aligning it with my entrance.

“Y/N, wait— Shit!”

My slutty hips slowly sank onto the vampire’s cock, earning a violent twitch of the member inside of me. I firmly placed my hands on his chest, pushing my hips down even more. There was a subtle burn from how much he stretched my needy pussy, but I didn’t mind. I only made it about halfway down the shaft before Miguel started to rub my forgotten clit. Moans fell from my lips as I pushed down just a little bit more. Before I knew it, the entire member was buried in my snatch to our surprise. We looked down in shock at where our curly bits met in shock.

We are made for each other, huh?

Miguel’s eyes sparkled at the statement and a wicked grin fell on his lips.

Before I knew it, the vampire had placed me flat on my back with my legs hugging his waist. His deep brown eyes were looking into mine with such intention— I didn’t need to hear his voice in my mind to understand it. Miguel, then, hooked his arms underneath my shoulders and placed his forehead against mine. His hips rolled slowly against my womanhood. The painstakingly muted movements made my body sing with anticipation. It felt as though he was testing the waters. The vampire wanted to see just how used how much my heat accommodate his massive cock. He needed to make sure I wasn’t being hurt in any way and that the motions weren’t too rough for me.

I brought my lips to his and gave him a seductive kiss.

Fuck me like you mean it.

The massive man groaned against my lips and started to litter lazy kisses against my neck.

You’re going to be the death of me.

Before I could process what he meant, the vampire lifted his head from the area and readjusted his body. He placed his palms flat down on the mattress and raised his body from mine. Our chests were separated, but our legs were tangled together. It seemed like he preferred it that way. He took in my expression once more before increasing his thrusts. The process was gradual. The pressure and speed increased in small increments. Again, Miguel was testing my limits as to how much I could handle. He was doing everything in his power to make sure this was a comfortable experience instead of a painful one.

The moans didn’t start flying from my mouth until a few moments passed. My entire body was jiggling from the force applied to his thrusts. My eyes slipped shut and my back arched against his looming body.

"Please," I whimpered. "Please, Miguel. Just a little harder."

I could feel a pleasurable flame ignited within me. I wanted nothing more than my body ablaze and the wind knocked from me. The hunger was still prevalent even after the hardest orgasm of my life. I wanted Miguel in any possible way I could have him. Above, below, and adjacent. On my back, my stomach, or my side. I wanted him to plow his massive member in me, just as desperately as he sucked into my snatch.

With a growl, Miguel hoisted my body in the air and pulled me onto his lap. Instinctively, I hooked my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He sat back on his heels and held me tightly against his chest. Without warning, his hips rose from their slouched position and collided with my center. A gasp tickled my tongue and air escaped my lungs. The thrusts were deep and hard. They pushed through me with such intention and precision that it was supernatural. The smooth head of his member was nestled against a pleasure point I forgot I had. The snap of his hips had sent the head to kiss the underside of my cervix, which was sending shock waves through my core. His strength and speed were unmatched. The hip thrusts were so quick that it felt as if Miguel was vibrating against me. My entire body felt tingly and warm. Deep throaty moans shot out of me as my eyes fell closed. My walls fluttered against the devilish member and I could already feel my peak begin to rise.

“H-h-holy Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered, digger my nails into his shoulders. “M-M-Miguel. . .”

Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the smile slowly take over his face.

Take me, mi amor. Take all of me. My cock, my power, my adoration— it is all yours to have. To hold. To cherish.

The sweet words had sent my insides into a frenzy. My heart swelled from the dedication. It made the impending orgasm all that much sweeter.

I am yours. In this lifetime and the next. I will remain by your side as long as you breathe and even after that.

His name was the only word I could formulate in my mind as he continued to pound into me. I chanted it over and over again in my mind since my tongue wasn’t cooperating properly. I thought about our life together and what it could look like. Our nights would be filled with cuddles and kisses. Declarations of love and tiny gifts to show appreciation towards each other. There would be no arguments or spats over silly things. I wouldn’t have to hide in my bedroom because he came home too drunk or pretend it didn’t happen the next morning. I could ask him to fix things and it would get done. I wouldn’t have to wonder if his love was true, since he had no problem with telling me every chance he got. From what I gathered from his mind, there was nothing I could do to make Miguel love me even less. Nothing I could do to provoke him to yell at me or attempt to hit him. Even if I drew a stake into his heart, Miguel wouldn’t even stop me. He told me, “Death by your hand is the only way I would want to go.”

What he had for me was more than just love and trust. It is more than simply being fated to one another. He had the drive to be a good partner, someone worth loving. It showed in everything he ever did. From the copious amounts of gifts to the gentle words in my mind as he fucked me into another dimension— Miguel O’Hara simply loved loving me and that made my heart ache.

The orgasm collided with my body and immediately pulled me out of my daze. My eyes rolled back and my head fell as well. Short, curt gasps puffed out of my mouth. Fireworks exploded throughout my mind as the orgasm progressed. His movements remained steady and consistent, making it even longer than intended.

On my pleasurable way down, one of my hands crept up to Miguel’s head and took hold of his dark curls. I moved my head a little bit and exposed my neck.

Drink.

Miguel stopped his rapid thrusting and looked down at me. “Are you sure, darling? Because you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I interjected. “And I trust that you won’t drain me completely. So, drink.”

His brown eyes fluttered to my exposed neck and shaky breath left his lips. “Just let me know if I am hurting you, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Slowly, Miguel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, earning a small gasp from me. There was a small pinch, but then it was followed by gentle suckling. My eyes fluttered closed as a glorious sensation arose within me. It was foreign, something I could only describe as delectable. The forbidden nature of the act was feeding my carnal desires in a way that nothing else had. In a way, Miguel had been getting his fill of me just as I got of him. The transaction was nowhere near normal or mundane. The supernatural nature of it was making my head spin and my desire spike once again.

My hips rolled against his lap as he continued to drink from my neck. His member was still hard nestled between my sensitive walls, but it was twitching. It signaled to me that Miguel was just as turned on as I was by the act. I pulled our bodies back, resulting in me on my back again. His mouth slipped from my neck with a groan. Miguel sat up from his slumped position and looked up at the ceiling. When he opened his eyes, they were pupil-less. The once-white sclera was shrouded in black with specks of white, from the moonlight. His mouth was painted a deep crimson and his fangs were longer than than I had ever seen them. He looked every bit like a scary, bloodthirsty vampire; yet I wasn’t afraid of him. Not for one second. I was even more turned on.

“Filthy little minx.” His voice was deeper than before. It rumbled through me and straight to my core. “You entice me with such a tempting offer and then lay there all pretty and docile.” He licked his lips slowly, capturing every stray drop of blood at the corners of his mouth. “It’s almost like you want me to ruin your pretty, plump body with my vampiric tendencies.”

He pulled my rear back onto his lap but left my upper back against the mattress. Miguel’s massive hands took hold of my hips before he snapped his against mine at a sickening pace. It wasn’t nearly as fast as before, but it was a little bit harder than earlier. My breasts bounced atop my chest as the thrusts pierced through me. The vampire was no longer kissing the sweet spot beneath my cervix; he was obliterating it. My fingers gripped the sheets beneath me and I held them tightly.

“Oh Fuck!” I yelled, staring directly into his eyes. “Just like that! Don’t stop!”

The sweet lover that I had grown to adore had left and been replaced with something I can only describe as a monster. The nature of his movements could no longer be described as tender and loving. They were animalist and rugged. They were unholy and disgusting— yet I couldn’t get enough. Miguel had fucked me like I was the last woman on earth. There was no hate or malice in the action. It left like he needed me. Like I was the only person that could get him that turned on and ready to risk it all.

“And you would absolutely correct, mi amor,” he groaned, staring down at me. Never breaking his pace, not even for a moment. “No woman will ever have the power that you have over me. To me, you are the last woman on this Earth that will get this kind of care and devotion from me. I will spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of your adoration. You are my first and last love.”

“Oh yes!” I screamed, gripping the sheets harder. “Keep going! Please keep going.”

A snarl crept from his throat as his dangerous pace continued. Even in the heat of pleasure, I could feel his hips fluttering and his cock twitching. Miguel was starting to reach his limit.

Come with me.

The vampire threw his head back and shouted a word in spanish. His hips had done their best to keep their iron will and delectable pace, but they became sloppy and unorganized. Miguel’s chest was rising and falling as if he had just ran a marathon. His mouth was agape and his fangs were still long. His thighs were vibrating underneath my rear and his member twitched violently within me. Yet, like the gentleman he was, Miguel’s hand found my aching pearl and he started to rub it viciously.

Our bodies rasped and shook against one another. Our breathing was practically in sync as we the throes of pleasure collided with our spirits.

I love you, Y/N.

The vampire had shouted the statement in my mind as his cock shot hot liquid into my snatch. Miguel whimpered and whined as he emptied the load in me. It was a beautiful site. To have a have a man enjoying sex and passion without limiting the experience was delightful. I could feel my heart begin to warm and my mind gain a glossy haze. A gentle pool in my belly started to overfill and my orgasm poured onto me. It was a gently as a river and just as powerful as the ones prior. It caused my entire body to relax into the mattress and my rear to slip from Miguel’s lap. I threw an arm over my face as my body trembled and twitched.

Without missing a beat, Miguel moved from his position between my legs. He took a spot on the right side of my body and pulled me into his arms. He cradled me as the aftershocks of the orgasm died down. The vampire murmured sweetnothings into my ears and mind. Reassuring me that everything was okay and that I was safe. After a few moments, I lifted my head from his chest and found his eyes. They had went back to their normal state. My shaky hands brushed against his sharp jawline and strong nose bridge. I cupped his cheek, before pressing his lips to mine.

I adore you.

---------

a/n: I have seen the asks and the messages. I appreciate your support and I will try my best to get on them as soon as possible. I will be posting every Sunday once again.

next on the queue (hopefully): Peter B Parker x Reader x Miguel O'Hara

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