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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

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I Never Missed You 2/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)

Word count: 7.3 k

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)

Summary: You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. Smutty smut ahead in this chapter. Brace yourselves for impact.

Part 1

You have to admit that you look dashing tonight.

And not because you want to turn people's heads at the party… But because you want him to look at you like you're the most forbidden snack he will never have.

It's selfish and petty, and you're just seeking attention. But at least you have the balls to admit it: you want Simon Riley to drool after you. You want this man on his knees. And nothing else has worked except that bra.

So you turn to the world's oldest weapon. A woman's weapon. Seduction.

"I'd suggest you keep a low profile until we're done."

He looks at you through the mirror while you finish your hair. Uses the word we instead of I. It makes your heart ache… And you take even that lecturing comment as a compliment. So he does think you look nice, or at least nice enough to stand out. You read into every look, every little tone of voice he gives you.

"I thought we were supposed to lure him in," you say while you neaten your necklace. Of course you look nice. You have done everything you can to look ravishing tonight: a deep-cut, thigh-revealing dress, cat eye makeup, red lipstick...

"Yeah but not like this."

"I'm not locking myself inside the house because of this," you announce pointedly. "I'm not afraid to live my life."

You turn and look him up and down, give him a little tilt of the head. "Don't you have anything else to wear?"

He doesn't shrink, doesn't bat an eyelash. Just looks down on you from that ivory tower of masculine prowess and makes you feel like a fool for being so dolled up.

"There's a difference between courage and foolhardiness," he states, not falling for your attempts to make him feel small in your world. You suspect there is so much more to this man, but you don't care to know about the circumstances he grew up in, the situations that gave him that broken nose and lip. You don't want to know about his broken soul.

Or perhaps you do...

"I suppose you know everything about that," you say while looking straight at the uneven scar on his jugular.

"I do."

"Tragic past?"

"You could say that."

You feel even more silly, standing before him in all your glory, pearls in your ears and silver around your neck. You pay this man for his services; he's supposed to protect you. But something in his eyes told you from the start that there lies an abyss inside this man. And you didn't pay for that: a peek inside his heart. But a door is open a creak now, and what's inside is pure darkness.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

Your cultured attempt to dance around his chasm makes those brown pools melt. Finally, he melts. But not to compassion, or mercy, or anything that would make you believe that you two understand each other.

He looks at you like you're a stranger from another planet. He's intrigued but doesn't quite understand how a creature like yourself has come to be. You're not only a child in his eyes but a coward as well for not daring to open that door to hell.

"What do you think," you hurry to change the subject. "Will I do tonight?"

He’s always so hyper-vigilant, his stare fixed on everything else but you. It feels childish, to be jealous of his attention when all he’s trying to do is protect you.

But now… Now that alert darkness bores straight into you.

"You look good in everything, ma'am."

A breeze of arctic wind goes through your scalp, and a fainting warmth settles in your belly.

You tiptoed your way to the fridge yesterday morning, before official breakfast, in your knickers and an old band merch from your youth - the one you still slept in sometimes because it was far more comfier than your silk pajamas. He walked in fully dressed and mighty while you were sneaking back upstairs with a glass of apple juice. The humiliation was overwhelming, especially when he dared to look you up and down in your state of underdress.

"Goodness… Sorry."

It should’ve been he who was supposed to say those words. But you felt like an intruder in your own house. It was a dangerous slip: to look so homely, with no brush stroke gone through your hair, with no toner on your skin. With no makeup and standing there before him in all your…you.

"No harm done."

He had never looked at you like that, and you swore right then and there that you would only descend those stairs with your full battledress from now on.

"Even in an old t-shirt…?" You ask with a tight voice. Desperate. Longing…

"Especially then."

Simon Riley strips you from your weapons and charades in a second. Your tight, seductive smile slowly falls off your face, and from behind it, a fragile, naked hope arises to gape at him. He clears his throat as if he just offered you an entire bowl full of ice cream when he was supposed to give you only a little scoop.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," he says, calm and adamant, like a statue you would go to see at a gallery.

"I'm afraid we should be going already."

"Takes 5 minutes."

You purse your lips, and he's on his way to the bathroom before you can even give him your nod. The guy is used to military showers, then, and perhaps it's for the better that he puts on at least some effort.

When he comes out, you're sitting in the hallway, and he's only wearing a towel. It's the one you gave him when he arrived, the softest you could find from your closets. You remember how the first odd thought you had upon seeing this man is that he probably isn't used to softness.

And now you see why.

You can see the prominent veins and the sketchy forearm ink, his muscles are magnificent to the point of unholy, he has a delicious, thin layer of fat on top of his belly, and the eyelashes aren't the only breath of hair that's pale on this man… But he looks like he has gone through an inferno.

His back is full of scars, and half of his shoulder looks like it has been dipped into a deep fryer. You catch a hollow dent between his ribs, and there's more, but he walks to his room before you see the rest of it.

The taxi drive to the party is filled with silence as you try to digest what you just saw. You want to call your lawyer and demand him to tell you where the hell did he find this man and who Simon Riley truly is. Who exactly does he work for when he's not taking bodyguard jobs?

But the first thing you do when you arrive at the large party held in a small palace is to go to the punch bowl and down a glassful in one go.

He's on your heels the whole night, eyes everyone with a hawk stare, and does his job perfectly. He grabs your arm occasionally and whispers in your ear if someone seems suspicious. After one and a half hours, he comes to you and practically demands that you two leave. Normally, you would start an argument, but not tonight.

You kind of want to go back home, too. The people at the party seem tedious, and his scars have reminded you that even if you live in a world where violence is not the norm, it doesn't mean that other worlds don't exist. Otherworlds - where people get shot, stabbed, and blown apart. Whipped and cut and deep-fried. You're in danger, and it took his suffering to see that.

You have been so stupid that you just about wish someone would slap you.

Simon has been so patient with you that you nearly apologize on the ride back home. You want to beg his forgiveness and confess you have been a spoiled little idiot.

But again, that's not an easy thing to do. You turn to look at your forbearing bodyguard, ever silent in the taxi, and turn your voice to silk.

"You really should smile more," you suggest. He doesn't answer, just looks out your window as if there were perils there too. You suddenly realize anyone could shoot through the glass or the door at any given time. With a proper caliber, a bullet could pierce that window and coat his black shirt with the insides of your skull.

No. No. I'm not ducking my head.

There's no one there.

"Have you ever tried?"

You turn to humor and flirt to drive those intrusive thoughts from your head. He doesn't yet know that you're afraid, that you have been afraid this whole time. You should have bought that armored car.

"Am I your most annoying client ever…?" There's a smile on your lips, a little pardon for being so infuriating. His eyes drop there, then lift back up to your eyes with surprising seriousness.

"You're my first client ever."

Well… This was news.

"Oh. Why did you accept this job?"

His stare sails away from you and back to the London night. You stifle the urge to grab his hand, a fistful of his shirt, to draw his attention back to you. Every time he's around, you feel safe; every time he looks at you, everything else ceases to exist.

You want him so badly you could cry.

"They don't teach you manners at the SAS…?"

"No. They teach us how to kill."

You scoff and turn to look through the window, too.

"Brute."

"You're entitled to your opinion, ma'am."

When you reach your house, he uses that term again. You're 110 % sure he's only trying to annoy you.

"Good night, ma'am."

"Stop it," you nearly slam your purse on the table in the hallway.

"What?"

"The ma'am thing…!"

You sound like a wife who's looking for an argument after putting on a charade all evening. When the door to your home closes, volcanoes erupt, and bombs drop, your husband-like bodyguard gets the blunt of your fear and frustration.

But how do you argue with someone who never argues back? He's calm like the Pacific during a stormless season, always, always gets calmer when you're going berserk. He walks to the armchair in your living room like he owns the whole goddamn place and sits down with a sigh.

And there is a smile playing on his lips.

"What should I call you then?"

You look at him, dumbstruck, on that chair, spreading his legs like there's no tomorrow, arms comfortably on the armrests, and mouth drawn into a genuine, peaceful, thoroughly naughty smile.

"Oh, now you're smiling," you huff. The unbelievable audacity of this man… "Some ideas on what to call me popped into your head?"

"Verily."

"Go on then."

"Nah. You should go to sleep."

"I'm not going until you tell me."

You cross your arms over your chest to underline that ruling. His smile only widens. He looks wickedly delicious in that seat with his legs spread, and the chair doesn't swallow him like it swallows you. Actually, his shoulders are wider than the back panel of this enormous chair.

"Well," he begins, "’princess' came up first."

You try to catch what he just said through the stupor of wanting to climb on that wide lap.

"Truly? How original."

"Or spoiled brat."

You stop breathing for a second, then reel straight toward a spiral of–

"How dare you?"

You notice his eyes dropping to your heaving breasts again. This man is so different from a dinner-offering, cunning man in a suit. He has no pretenses whatsoever. He looks at you with that little smile, eyes burning, legs drifting apart even more, probably his cock stirring from how you are trying to chastise him. If you had pearls around your neck, you would clutch them. Or throw them at him.

"You son of a–"

"Pretty."

His next choice renders you speechless; it cuts through your insult before it even flees your mouth. You gape at him, jaw open, breathing and cheeks burning, pussy throbbing - soaked so thoroughly now that you feel a tiny droplet cascade down your thigh.

"Yeah. That's better," the man says as if he's also blessed with a Superman stare, knowing you're seconds away from drenched. "Better than brat or princess, anyway."

The darkness conceals most of him as he settles inside that massive chair he dwarfs. You are falling, or at least that's what it feels like. A tumble, a slip inside his Styx. But there's no bottom, and the water is warm ink, despite the fact that he's so blanched.

"Pretty…?" You whisper into that water, breathe onto the surface of his depths. The darkness answers immediately.

"Very."

Your swallow is a wet, nervous roll inside your throat when you sink into that river of lust and smoke.

You take your jewels off first, because you know he doesn't care for them. Money's not his chief interest, even if he's being paid. And fat, at that. But he's not here for riches, he’s not here for the jewels – or that's what you desperately wish.

The necklace and pearls are gone soon, tucked away on the table with your trembling digits, and he's sitting there like a statue.

You have no trouble with this dress: the zipper seems to cascade down on its own as you reach behind your back. He's motionless as you slip out of the straps that keep the dark velvet up. You feel like you're the Styx: but the darkness of the river pools at your feet as you let go of the gown, let go of everything and continue your freefall.

He doesn't move, doesn't give evidence that he's even breathing; he just sits there like a long-forgotten king.

The panic snares you with a drool-wet throat: you salivate not because of him but because of your nerves.

Are you… harassing him?

Does he want this…?

At least he thinks you're pretty – and you could laugh out loud; your thoughts are vain and petty, even when you're baring yourself before him in more ways than just one. Your breaths are audible distress inside that darkness, and he's still: everything's still.

But he moves when you reach for your bra.

It's just a hand that soars through the darkness, an involuntary reach for support and gathering of composure as his fingers find his jaw. They swipe across imagined stubble before he leans his head on that hand, just an ounce's worth of weight placed on his thumb and pointer as if he's simply in his thoughts. But the hawk stare is fixed on the lace covering your breasts as it falls on the floor too.

You hear his breaths now. Quicker on the inhale, heavy on the exhale. Your thumbs slide under the hem of the last piece of your veil, something you got from the store when you were feeling down. Now the underwear makes you feel better than ever - who would’ve guessed it's the moment you slither it off? Slowly, too: you’re being a tease, hip bones giving a two-second dance for him as he continues to watch you strip before him like the queen of the night.

You breathe in sync now, and your nipples perk up – he hasn't even touched you yet and you're more aroused than ever with a man.

Not a word spoken, and you fear you’re being delusional – if you've just imagined the heat between you two, but then those legs flare a hair's breadth more. His voice is the softest whip as it crackles through the void.

"Yeah... You're pretty. Now what?"

You breathe in gusts now. It's exhilaration, damnation.

"Jesus Christ, Simon."

The chair gives a creak as he rises, like an ancient shadow. Intimidating – intense, always, always, and you've been trying to coat him with soft towels and feed him toast. You wonder if he prefers black tea simply because it tastes more bitter than coffee rounded with milk.

Does he want this? Silly softness and toast and–

You get all your answers as he bends just enough to match your height, just enough to sweep you off your feet. Your hands go around his neck on instinct as he lifts you up from your rich, opulent Styx and into his sea.

You're quiet all the way upstairs – he can't fuck you downstairs, then, has to intrude on your luxury and privacy. You don't mind, especially when the steps give a desperate wail under your combined weight. He lets it sing its music to the night: your ruining already makes so much noise.

He reaches for his gun right after he’s placed you on the mattress. The sound of it is heavy when he sets it on the nightstand that has only seen glasses of water and apple juice and perhaps a few books.

He undresses with soldierly sharpness, no seduction there. But he doesn't have to seduce you: his stare and heavy-cold demeanor have already done that.

He's so, so different from the others… Looks at you on the bed like you're both a piece of tender sirloin and something akin to garbage. That's an accurate depiction of a princess, perhaps. You know wasps gather around both honey and bloodied meat.

He looks at you like that because you know nothing. And he's not here to ruin you… he's here to insert himself inside you like you're a foe that needs to be infiltrated, plundered and burned until you understand.

He's big. Daunting. A brute while you’re the princess, could be the sleeping beauty, the way you stay immobile and try to take in this man's sheer power. You saw him half naked already when he came from the shower, but it's nothing compared to seeing all that taut, scarred flesh up close, soon about to fall upon you like a broken mountain.

And what's between his legs is wholly proportional to the rest of him. That thing is a menace, and it's not even fully erect - hanging thick between thick thighs, foreskin revealing a fat, sloping tip, and he's veined all over…

Finally, your mouth goes dry.

His gaze sweeps your beauty, and that cock gives a throb – a good, hard pull that stretches out into the open air, and your eyes go wide. Then he prowls, like the king of the jungle, moving with a fluidity that must be scary to those who meet their end by this big brute’s violence.

You are able to take in air only when his hand falls next to your head. The other claims you by the middle as if to soothe you - but the truth is you're caged in like a tiny, quivering animal.

The hand is heavy as it slopes across your stomach and scales your mound. It doesn't cup or probe, only rests there over your most sacred place, like an enemy surrounding a city. Your thighs part slowly, hoping he would just sweep right in.

"This wasn't in the deal," he rasps as he looks down at you: heavy iron judging a diamond.

"Oh shut up," you breathe, thoroughly thrilled and shy. If you weren't lying down, his intensity would buckle your knees.

"Nor do I take orders from you, ma'am."

"I'm not- Don't call me a-"

His eyes spark as the hand dips down like a deep diver into the blue. You gasp a stunned whiff when he's met with a mortifying amount of slickness. Your arousal sings a pretty song as he draws a finger over your slit, the moist sounds followed by another stuttering sigh.

"Look at you all wet," he remarks, and you grit your teeth.

“Shut…up…”

"You know why I accepted this job?"

He wrecks you with one thick finger, rough skin lathering you with your own juice like he's trying to make a point here. And he is making a point: it comes across perfectly. The princess is a filthy mess for brutes…

And of course he was given a file on you too. With more than just one photo.

"Yeah," he rasps when you only look back at him with your felled deer helplessness. You could swear that he just heard your thoughts. "I think you know."

"You're–ah– a brute," you whisper, eyes shining. Your thighs part even more, feel yourself leaking over his fingers that stroke you agonizingly slow. You swallow with hunger, the need pangs on your cheeks. Your whole body is throbbing for him.

“Sticks and stones, love.”

He's so infuriating that you could slap him. Claw him, rip him apart. But you nearly laugh instead… It's far better an option to let him claw and rip you apart. He's tearing you apart right now, with those eyes and his hand, exploring you like you're the first course and he's here for the whole dinner. How can he be so calm?

"Could you…" You start, then realize you've never begged for this man.

"Hm? Talk to me," he commands. "Whatever ya want."

You whimper – from bliss or relief, you can't tell. The frantic need to serve is fully fleshed out in his tone. It surprises you. You thought he was here for his own pleasure.

You try to think through the bliss of his fingers. You've had all kinds of things... All you could ever want, most would say. But that's not entirely true. No man has ever promised to please you however you want.

"Could you go…"

"Go down on you?" He places a thumb, broad and hard, on your clit. Teases it with the slightest pressure and a circle. "Lick your cunt?"

Fuck…

He has no trouble saying it as it is, and you nod, still helpless.

"Sure. 'N after that I'll fuck you nice and good."

He's never, ever sounded like that before. Dark, and rich, the baritone reaching a level that speaks of hunger – no, need.

A brute, a pussy-drunk brute, the blood in your veins sing as he goes down. Nothing can prepare you for the way with which he manhandles his way between your thighs like they're only a petty distraction in the way. They're forced wide apart with a tight grip that speaks of urgency, but he takes his time to admire the sight bared before him. He’s drinking you in like ambrosia, towering above you while you’re being held open for him to just observe you like you’re a center-spread girl in a filthy magazine.

"You're fucking pretty down here, did ya know that?"

You don't even know what to say - his tone, his observation is base, and still, they're the most beautiful words anyone has ever said to you.

"No…?"

"Well now ya know."

He steals a final glance at you, and the fire in his eyes already makes your legs feel weak. He dives between your parted legs, right into your leaking, glistening folds, and you're suddenly glad that you've done all that yoga… Those shoulders are so broad they force your thighs even further apart as he makes himself home there between your legs.

A hot mouth presses against you like this man has been starving, even if you've fed him the best delicacies for days. An even, fat stroke is the first thing you feel before your toes curl and your head falls back.

"Goodness, Simon..." You try to keep yourself from stuttering as his mouth opens you like a flower. You should be quiet, for once, and let him do the job. He seems like an expert, even and especially there between your legs. "Do you-ah, always shag your clients?"

"Told you you're my first," he rasps a husky sigh on your folds. He could ruin you with that voice alone.... He gives you another sweep of his tongue, full and ample, and your fingers curl around the sheets, your hips buck; your ass drives up on instinct, trying to both escape his mouth and rub your pussy against those thin but eager lips.

"Don't worry," he tells your pussy with a warm chuckle. "This is free of charge."

You sigh, the first laugh of many up into the air. You're supposed to get angry, but you can't. You can't.

"Have… no words for you."

"Good. It's about time you stopped talking, love."

He grabs your hips to punctuate it that you should indeed shut up. Fingers sink into your flesh like you're a whole goddamn feast - no more fucking toast and teasing. His hands look so huge as they dig into your skin - so different from the hands of men who work in offices or wait for people to serve them. You upvoted those hands to be the best part of this man long ago.

And that bulk of muscle… Some of those men in suits might go to the gym, but they couldn't forge a body like his in a million years: that breathtaking mass built to work and endure harsh conditions. It's not a flex or a sculptured piece of art: it's simply survival - ancient and primal.

He's got darkness, and you got diamonds, but something tells you his depths are infinitely more valuable. You couldn't buy his intensity even if they sold it in the streets. The skull mask was self-made, everything in this man is self-made, and he's sampling what diamonds taste like, and you wonder… Does he think you're cheap, some fake piece of worthless junk? Does he laugh at how easy you are? That under your manners, you're only a spoiled brat and a promiscuous maneater…? Or that he couldn't care less, as long as he can push his cock inside you?

He gives you his best, that's for sure. A working man, with you as his assigned mission, and the feeling of being a spoiled little princess only increases. And how are you supposed to stay still if he's slow and attentive like that? You might be his first client, but you're not his first shag…

His lips seal tightly around your nub, suck it, lap it, sigh on it - he's already breathless from the need to make you moan and cum. A purpose-driven, ravenous man, and when he dips his tongue inside your cunt, your mind finally goes blessedly blank. Your legs shake and stretch, and you can’t prevent your hand from skimming down to grab his hair when he gives you deep, unhurried plunges with his tongue, huffing against you from the mad want to make you feel good.

You would never have guessed that Simon Riley would get such pleasure from licking a woman.

One hand disappears from around your thigh, and you guess it's one of his fingers that arrives, wide and thick, to tease your entrance. You can feel the smile on your folds as he slips it in, making you nearly jolt on the sheets. Your fingers instantly curl to tug that pale hair, to grab hold of something, and it makes him rumble inside you.

He doesn’t even wait for you to catch your breath as he adds another finger. Goes shallow at first, then pushes those fingers in to the knuckle. The feeling of being filled - and not being filled enough - is going to drive you crazy any second now.

"Simon…"

"Yeah?"

“I want you to… want you to…" you hear yourself choking on your beg as he works those fingers in and out of you while his lips are tight around your clit. He knows exactly what you're trying to ask.

And suddenly, it's he who breaks…

"Right. 'M gonna fuck you now, yeah?"

The spread is gone, and you're being moved - on your belly, and you briefly think whether it's because he can't bear to look into your eyes when he takes you. You don’t even have time to whimper from the loss of his fingers and mouth before heavy thighs force your legs aside. You’re being spread again, crudely, obscenely, like it’s just a procedure that has to be done. He’s both methodical and impatient, and you wonder - has he wanted to rail you like this ever since he saw you? Force you to lie down on your belly while he takes you from behind like a helpless damsel?

His hands come to your hips as if to make sure that you won’t run away from under him. As if you ever wanted to…

Something far fatter forces its way between your folds and straight onto your opening. He glides over your folds a few times, spreads your wetness all over his tip. Methodical still, but it makes you moan and swallow.

"Jesus…"

The lathering stops, the jutting cock settles right where your depths lie, and he chuckles. "Not quite, love."

Fuck…

Fuck this man's cheek and audacity. Fuck his size and pride, the way he knows what he's doing all the fucking time.

“Desperate for it?”

That stupidly fat cock just resides there, teasing your aching, leaking hole without going in. But it’s like he answers his own question because you feel the thick of him give a notch against your folds. So impatient. Thoroughly needy. It sends you further down the whirpool of desire, a searing white, fathomless deep..

“Yes..”

When he goes in with a leaden grunt, your muscles go into a spasm - he's too big, he hasn't prepared you right, and still, you force yourself to relax.

"Not what you expected?"

"It's… too much," you admit. He stops, realizing that for once in his life, he might've been an impatient man. Then he crawls forward, and you feel like you're about to be buried under a boulder as his weight bears down on you. Hands sink into the mattress on both sides of you, forcing you further up against him - you're floating, almost, to where you belong.

"Yeah? C'mon… You can take it."

You shudder. It's not even fully in yet?

He speaks too softly for it to be a demand, even when he's hovering on the brink of wanting to simply ram himself into your cunt. It's an encouragement. He’s cheering you on, like a coach. Or a leader... It’s leadership.

When you don't object, he starts to feed more of himself in. You try to remember how to breathe because you were wrong, you were so, so wrong - it was barely just the tip, and now you're stretched wide and tight. He's endless, and sinking in deeper, deeper….

And you want it so much - all of him- you want to grip him and never let go. One hand comes to sweep over your hip again, it caresses the swell of your ass, and you know he's looking down at how well you can take him after all.

"How are we doin'?"

Your lips are swollen, and your brows are creased tight. It's still not in…?

You’re fucked. Literally. But you can take him... You must.

You whimper when he slows down almost to a halt.

"Love. Tell me to stop 'n I'll stop."

"Just–gently," you whisper, brittle and shivering from joy.

"Don't worry. I got you."

Slowly, he arrives to the end of him and you. Hips flesh against yours, he’s out of breath before he even starts the thrusts. His length caresses places unfathomable in this position, and his weight is crushing you, even when he's supporting himself. It only feels like the safest place to be. Trapped there between your safe, soft bed and his safe, hard body.

The first thrust punches the air out of your lungs. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s not uncomfortable; it’s just too much to take. You’ve never been so filled.

"Fuck…" He swears, somewhere between the third or fourth thrust. "You're…"

"Good…?" You offer him when he doesn't continue. You know he was possibly going to say tight or something crude like that and corrected himself before it spilled. He merely grunts as an answer - a barbarian through and through, you decree. And then the brute speaks…

"The best."

God. You feel like a diamond after all, but you've never been under so much pressure, fearing you might break.

"You-too…" It's a sad little mewl. You sound like a child trying to make friends. Latching a hook on him, no matter how tiny it is. One shake, one ripple from the behemoth, and it will fall loose.

"Don't go lying with that pretty little mouth," he warns.

"I'm not lying."

"Yeah…? Keep squeezing me like that and perhaps I'll believe you."

It's a strange feeling, to meet your mistrust and jealousy on him. He has no pretenses, but he has secrets, camouflage, and flash grenades that blind you from the truth. But even he can't hide it all when he's moving inside you, so close, so terribly close.

You melt into a pool of heat and want, trying to meet him midway by offering your cunt, arching your spine, driving yourself up to give him better access. What was possibly meant as a desperate fuck turns into a sweet, weightless rocking, a rhythm of him and you. The hands on your hip start to gain weight as he holds you still for him, at times even pulls you against his cock.

"C'mon… wanna hear you," he huffs, then slides one hand to your butt and gives it a fond squeeze when you won't instantly make noise. "You're always givin' me that cheek and now you're silent?"

It's a warm question, a thick baritone that settles into your stomach, then shoots downwards and makes you clench.

"Wh-what do you want me to say?"

"Want you to sing."

Of course the man who never talks won't shut up in bed. But he's not bullying you into submission, nor is he being mean. If anything, he sounds like he's finally on his knees.

And you don't want to be mean either. Not anymore. But you just can't help yourself from having a little fun now that he's finally desperate and inside you.

"Make me," you whisper, delivering your cheek with a wicked little smile.

The response is immediate: he dares to land a flat palm on your ass. Like you're a broodmare, a sirloin steak for him to feast on. And it does the job: you almost shriek, or at least that's how it sounds like when a parched little whine pushes through your vocal chords with violence.

"That's better," he barks, pleased with his work.

"You're horrible," you gasp. You're glad he put you face down on a pillow: you can only hope he doesn't see how happy you are in the darkness of his night.

"Yeah? And you're sweet."

It's said with gravel wrapped in silk. It hits you and ignites, starts a flame inside you without permission.

You want him in ways you shouldn't. You want… more breakfasts, him carrying you up the stairs, taking in the way you tip-toe around the house in an old t-shirt. You want to serve him back rubs and tea and see who he is when he's not being paid. You don't want a lap dog or a guard dog, you simply want...

Simon.

"I'm– I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch," you whisper. He sinks back on top of you until his nose nuzzles the back of your ear. He leans on his elbows, trying not to break you into too many little pieces, but the feeling of being confined couldn't be more blissful.

"Cock's that good?" He drags the following thrust, sparking your nerves aflame as he hits your core. But it's not brutal; if it is, it's the sweetest wrecking you could ever have imagined.

"Don't make me take my words back," your lips pull to a smile and a silent, inner laugh.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He's smiling too. Inwardly, perhaps, but you can hear the mirth. His weight on top of you while you're lying under him on your belly, unable to move, unable to do anything other than take the full brunt of his cock as it spreads you open, is pure heaven.

"Want you to cum when I'm inside you," he rasps in your ear, lips brushing the underside of your jaw. "Think you can do that, princess?"

Being told to cum on command is a bit ridiculous, you think. But not when it comes from that Cockney mouth. Not when he asks so nicely. Your cunt pulls, claws at him.

"... I'll show you princess," you sigh, but it's only a second away from laughter. His fingers dig into your skin, the flush flesh of your ass. It feels possessive… Fond.

"Yeah. Show me. C'mon."

The camouflage gets slightly torn off by a wind of a smile. You can hear it on his lips. Sex should be fun, one of your friends always says. You had never thought about it like that. Bed is not the place for laughter and humor, you had thought. But now you are both on the brink of bursting with it.

"You're a fucking pretty one…" He grunts: a breathless, silent joy. "Know you want this as much as I do. Ain't that right?"

"Yes."

"That's what I thought. So cum for me. Wanna hear the sounds you make."

You dance on the precipice already, and his voice causes your hand to shoot out to his. You drag that heated palm across your hips and your ribs, curl it next to you as if you were drawing a blanket over youself. It's a lover's caress, and his fingers slip between yours as he wraps around you like the protector that he is.

Your walls flutter, the thickness inside you makes you swell with every thrust. His hips are relentless as he buries himself into you with blunt force, his flesh clapping against yours and making your cunt clamp down on him. Sweet, sweet, sweet, your blood sings as your lids drift closed. The wave is coming, the final tsunami that will sweep you with it, and you will only succumb with joy.

"Don't-stop," you hear yourself beg through the heavy pants he's grunting on your neck.

"'M not gonna stop," he grunts into your ear, serious now.

"Fuh–Fuck me good and… hard," you're hiccuping through dry tears. It feels like there's a hammer and an anvil placed between your ribs. "I need you hard-"

"Shit…"

You barely grasp that he's about to lose his precious control before the midnight sea takes you under. The world fades into a tight know of blue and white and black, electric, ambient, something soft and hot at the same time. You're choking on your tears, moaning into the pillow like a poor, broken, tortured cat.

"That's fucking pretty," he swears on your neck as you cum. All humor is gone now, but he's not mocking you. He's just… emotional. The bulk of him rides you through the wave, but the rhythm of his hips becomes erratic.

"That's it, pretty… I'm gonna…Fuck," he huffs on your skin, a mist of want, and the cockhead rubs something profound inside you and makes you jolt in the middle of your molten euphoria. He grunts, swears, and does it again - bludgeons so deep it forces out a sob, just before he breaks too with a choked, wet swallow and a groan. A trembling colossus, you think, as he thickens and bursts inside you.

You're an aching mess when he comes, his thighs pressing over yours and forcing them far and wide as he buries himself into you to the hilt. He's a behemoth, spasming and crumbling right above you. The broad abs bunch against your back while his hips pin you down and spread you open. The cock pulses inside you, and you are barely able to think how it's a miracle that both his thick flesh and the pool of cum, all of it, just somehow fits there inside you…

A gentle brute until the end, he swallows again, thick and breathless, before giving a few tight rolls of his hips, emptying himself to the last drop. Slowly, you both still inside your bubble of warm, dark blue, something akin to a sea between a tropical storm and a calm sunrise, a drowsy reef shifting with the waves.

He's broken into a light sweat from the toil when he finally untangles your fingers. Your hips are kept in place with one hand as he slowly pulls out. You feel like you're left emptier than before, even if you feel the cum welling up inside, about to spill over.

Your bodyguard - your late-night fuck - collapses beside you, then reaches to pull you close again. Still back against his chest, still unable to look into your eyes when you're both vulnerable.

"I'm gonna get you a towel," his fingers tremble as he caresses your arm with the most delicate touch.

"No–don't, don't go," you whisper, then grab his hand and bring it back over you. You almost squeeze yourself with it. "Please?"

The tension behind your back decreases as he slowly falls back into bed.

"Alright love. I'll stay right here."

It's so peculiar how he reminds you of large water masses. A night sea under a pale moonlight. Not a stormy, roiling one, just a vast depth in an ever-swelling motion.

"I want… I need you to keep me safe," you whisper inside that swelling sea. You never want to come to the surface. You want to learn to breathe underwater. The heavy arm is draped over you; it covers nearly half of your chest as he sighs.

"Then let me do that."

His plea is not humble - nothing in this man is. He's not on one knee, swearing his allegiance and vowing to always protect you. He's not your Lancelot.

But in a way, his plea comes far too close to a beg. You feel a sting near your heart. It's electric, pure pain - the sweet kind, though, as you realize he doesn't only want to do his job… He wants to protect you. He has already tried his best to protect you while you run around like nothing is wrong.

"Simon… I'm sorry."

"I already forgave you," he hums on your skin, evidently glad that you two finally understand each other. It should send you laughing, the thought that you needed his scars and his…treatment to find common ground. And free of charge, no less.

"Do you still wish you were somewhere warmer…?"

He bows his head against the nape of your neck, and the gush of air from his nose is warm and jovial. "No."

It's hours till dawn, but you wish it would never come. The beauty of the night is only now unfolding before you. It feels far more safe than the violent dawn. You wonder how he would react if you moaned his name as you cum. If he would shudder. You wonder what the hell is wrong with you that you didn't already do it...

"Simon…?"

"Mm..?"

"What happens now?"

There's a pause, but he doesn't shift for more comfort. Still, the bullet vests and battle gears are back on; you just sense it.

"We're gonna get some sleep."

"No, I meant… What does this mean for us?"

"What do you think it means?"

Now he shifts, but only to draw you closer. You feel like jello as he pulls your scent deep into his lungs, then exhales the grace on your skin like you're the only tobacco he needs after a good round of sex.

"Don't worry about it, princess," he murmurs on your skin. So delicately that you could claim this man has never even seen the army, never barked and shouted and smoked his throat dry. "We'll talk in the morning."

You settle into his sea, an embrace full of gentle, heavy safety. It's the sweetest oblivion to slip in as you begin a dreamless sleep, soft and snug. But it's not merciful enough to make you forget that you two…

You never even kissed.

............................................

Taglist: @lialacleaf @cumikering @val-srz @glitterypirateduck @clear-your-mind-and-dream @milfs4lifee @regatoni1 @glossygreene @raf4el4 @xxmattyboixx @frozenballsack69 @gabygykss @chxrryp0p @sinnisterr @clairdelunelove @megumilover69 @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @ayavaiia @thedevillovesflowers @tiny-kasper

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod fanfic #mw2 fanfic #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x female reader #ghost x female reader #bodyguard au #Bodyguard!Ghost

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tsunami-of-tears · 27 days

Text

ACOTAR males reacting to Reader’s piercings

Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris & Rhys

A/N: I have a lot of piercings and thought this would be fun ♡ In my case with the nips they got LESS sensitive (thank goodness honestly) but I know a lot of people have the opposite happen. I have also decided that since they have fae blood - the piercings would heal much quicker and therefore they can do the nasty the same/next day.

Warnings: sexual themes (kinda smutty - especially the last one); piercings featured: ears, belly button, nipples and female genital.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

Cassian - Belly Button

Cassian LOVES your stomach!

Especially after you’ve given him children. He always takes the time to kiss every stretch mark and worship you…

You didn’t tell him about your plans for your piercing, deciding to surprise him.

He’s about to ravish you when he lifts your top… His eyes go straight to the red gem at your navel and they light up.

“Babe is that sore?” “A little, but it’s so pretty right?” He strokes your tummy and kisses it all over. “I didn’t think I could like this any more than I already did… I need you,” he lifts you, you wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you to bed.

Azriel - Nipples

He saw them your first time together, he had the biggest smirk on his face as his fingers felt them through your shirt.

He looks at you with a raised brow, slowly peeling off your shirt before taking your nipple in his mouth.

They’ve been much more sensitive since they got pierced, so you start squirming as soon as he touches them.

He delights in toying with you and gives them lots of attention - always licking/sucking/softly biting/pinching/pulling.

And then when the shadows play too? They feel so cold as they swirl over your skin - your nipples get so hard it’s almost painful (in a good way).

Outside of the bedroom, Azriel would love it when you don't wear a bra and he can see the outline of your jewellery through whatever you’re wearing. He probably gets a bit jealous if you go out with them visible without him, but he’d be so proud of his hot partner and showing you off.

Lucien - Ears

Lucien would have multiple earrings, and maybe even an eyebrow piercing on the opposite side of his scar.

Of course, all his jewellery is gold and he swaps them out to match his outfits. He’s so stylish and you love that, always admiring him.

You have your lobe piercing, but you want more. You finally decide to get some yourself, not telling Lucien.

You come home from your appointment and wait for him to notice.

Lucien is instantly by your side to greet you, he goes to kiss your cheek and stops when he sees the glinting gems and metals adorning your ear.

He smiles so wide, gently taking you in and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “My love, what did you get up to today?” He asks. “I got some more earrings, do you like them?” “They look beautiful, Y/N.” He traces the tip of your pointed ear sending a shiver down your spine. “But you are the most exquisite gem of all.”

After your new piercings heal - Lucien will help you pick out new pieces and change the jewellery for you.

When you attend formal events together, he loves matching with you and takes pride in the subtle details. You always make a handsome couple, but no one appreciates your beauty more than Lucien.

Eris - Nipples

You didn’t always have them, but it was something you’ve thought about for many years.

The man loves titties, especially yours.

When he sees your new bling for the first time, you’re in the bath and he comes to join you after a long day.

He’ll slip in behind you and wrap his hands around you. He’ll squeeze your breasts in appreciation. They always feel nice, but they feel different today. He spins you around in his lap to get a look.

“Cauldron boil me, you are going to be the death of me, Y/N.”

Eris will kiss all over you, completely worshipping you, and it’s not long until most of the bath water ends up on the floor.

Rhys - Female Genital

Rhys always calls you cute star-themed pet names - so it was only fitting to add some sparkle to his favourite part.

Rhys would be taking his time, loving every inch of you as he strips you down slowly.

When that last piece of fabric is removed, he is straight on his knees.

Of course the gem you picked is violet. Rhys looks very smug as he goes down on you - his eyes flicking between the stone and your face.

He would send images of you writhing under his touch down the bond, so you get a good view of your newest adornment.

Rhys was already completely obsessed with you, and seeing that colour marked you as his in a new way. From then on he loved taking you in any position that gave him the best view…

Help I wanna get this piercing now

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar men #acotar headcanons #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #eris x reader #cassian x reader

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readychilledwine · 5 months

Note

Hi Liz! I have been following you for a while now and I absolutely adore everything you write. You are incredibly talented and deserve all praise for it ❤️

I have never actually requested a story from any author simply because I will devour almost any content by fanfic authors and truthfully it makes me feel a little greedy and I never want anyone to feel forced to write anything. However, I have had this idea since I read one of your stories and I feel like no one else would be able to do it justice like you would.

Essentially, the reader is the youngest Archeron sister and is mated to Azriel (mating bond has been accepted and they have been together for a couple of months now) but she is inexperienced (her first time was with Azriel) and Nesta has been giving her some of her hard core smutty books and now the reader wants to explore some kinks with Azriel (somnophilia, cock warming, wing play, bondage) but she’s embarrassed to bring up the conversation with him. Anyway, she eventually has that conversation with Azriel (he’s all too happy about it because no one can tell me this male doesn’t have a corruption kink) and smut ensues.

First of all, thank you for the endless compliments 💜💜 I'm so excited you're here and have welcomed me into your world for entertainment purposes.

Second of all, I could NEVER deny an Azriel corruption kink fic.

Breathe

Summary - A year of sexual exploration hasn't even began to touch the things Azriel would like to do to you.

Warnings - throat fucking, breath play, references to knife play, auralism, jealous Rhys and cassian at the end, mentions of other explored kinks and sexual senerios

Azriel pushed his fingers further unto your throat, his shadows forcing your hair back as he held your book in his free hand.

“I've been wondering why you've been sending me wave after wave of arousal all day,” he rose a brow a passage involving the male character using a knife to pleasure the female main. “Is this what my pretty little mate reads when I'm away? Her big sister's smut novels?”

He watched as you gagged, drool and spit coming to the corner of your mouth as you struggled to breathe and looked up at him doe eyed. “Want me to fuck you with Truth Teller, mate? Does the thought of coming on a deadly weapon soak your little lace panties?” He chuckled darkly. Mocking your inability to answer.

“You're trained better than this, slut. You know to answer me when I ask you a question.” You whined around his fingers. You could feel the tension in his body, feel his need for stress relief.

The two of you had just began exploring physically together. The bond finally snapped after your 20th birthday. After the Mortal queen and the deathless God had been dealt with. After Elain finally let her claws out of him long enough for him to notice you. To feel you.

He had not pushed sex, knowing from Nesta you were the only one of the 4 of you to hold onto that seemingly special thing so tightly. It had taken a year for you to spread those pretty thighs and let him take you, but after that, you fucked like rabbits. Trying every dirty thing and kink your mind wanted to explore.

Azriel had allowed you to dominate him, whining as you rode his cock and denied him orgasm after orgasm, fingers dancing his scarred wings.

He had tied you from the ceiling his dungeon, harnessed up like a swing and fucked you to sweet oblivion.

He had taken every tight hole, came anywhere he could. Marked you in his scent and musk more times than you two could count.

But you were still his sweet innocent girl.

His little untouched angel exploring your sexuality and urges like an animal in heat sometimes. Your recent needs were punishment. You liked him hurting you, dominating you, watching as you cried. You liked breath play lately, hence his fingers sinking deeper as you struggled, black beginning to form in your eyes until he took those fingers out and slapped you.

“Need you to suck my cock, princess,” he began unlacing his leathers, mind lost in the pleasure your mouth would bring him. “Open. Now.”

You obeyed, throat relaxing and mouth opening as his cock sprung free. Hard leaking and angry from weeks away from you. He pushed in without hesitation, setting a gentle pace as he tightened his grip in your hair.

“She couldn't breathe,” his deep voice began reading from the book, making you whine around his cock as he pushed it down your throat ensuring you couldn't either. “The feeling of the cold hilt in her warm walls causing her to feel wave after wave of shock and pleasure.”

He looked down at you, smirking at the sight of your flushed cheeks, at you swallowing around him as spit pooled the corners of your mouth. His eyes went back to the book. “There was something about the danger, the thrill of this deadly weapon being used to push her to the edge that had her crying out, begging and pleading for more and more as she met every thrust with her hips. Fucking herself harder and harder on her mate's weapon.”

You were aching, dripping for him, and tapped his thigh for a quick breath, watching as he pulled out and looked down at you unimpressed. You panted a few gulps of air before taking him back in your mouth and bobbing your head, hallowing your cheeks and licking each vein on his shift.

Azriel groaned loudly above you, setting the book down before his now free hand joined the other one tangled in your now messy hair. He began fucking your throat harshly. Barely allowing you moments of air as he chased his much needed high.

You could do nothing but hold on for life when he did this. When he lost control for you. He pushed all the way in, gagging you again and held you there, nose pressed against his skin. “Breathe,” he commanded in a moan. “Being such a good girl, y/n.”

Throat fucking as new to you. An unexplored territory you hadn't even considered until he had asked gently. You knew it was more for him than for you, but right now you felt this sense of power as he moaned above you, wings shuttering as his body shivered.

That power reached a deep set need in your bones, allowing you to relax and enjoy this more with a small moan. “There we go, angel,” he whispered. “Just like that for me. I'm so proud of you.” He began thrusting again, allowing you to hear his pleasure, allowing you to feel that power you had over him. “Keep breathing, baby,” his voice was almost a whimper. “Just keep breathing, I'm right there, y/n. Please honey.”

Him begging had you moaning against him, relaxing your throat further as your watched his breathing pick up, his plump lips part, his eyes scrunch.

Without warning he pushed all the way in, spilling down your throat, as a roar tore through his own. He pulled back slightly, releasing the last of his cum onto your stuck out tongue with a satisfied smile.

He kneeled down to you, shadows bringing him a notebook and pen and he wiped the small bits that hit your face off with his thumb before forcing you to suck that digit.

He flipped through the notebook, a page dedicated to each sexual act and kink you two had explored with a rating and comments from both of you before landing on the page he needed and the adjoining blank one.

“1 through 5?” He asked you gently, removing his thumb and kissing your forehead.

“3.5,” you admitted with guilt. “I only enjoyed it because you do, and it made me feel slightly in control.”

He nodded, writing your response as you two both moved to sit cross-legged from each other on the floor. “Do not feel guilty. I am just happy it ranked high enough to be in the rotation. How about the reading to you thing?”

“4 out of 5. I enjoyed it a lot when you were doing that.” Azriel jotted it down.

“And what the fuck is going on in this novel? Do you want to try knife play?”

“Only with you,” you answered.

Azriel leaned forward, kissing you gently. “It's one of my favorites. I've done it with a couple play partners. I can answer any questions you have.”

The two of you sat there, filling in a few more pages of the book you had started to keep during the beginning of your exploration a year ago, smiling at the things you've already done, going on your list of retries.

Love was free flowing down the bond, soaking the room and fabric in it's scent, filling the Riverhouse with its presence with every passing moment.

Rhys and Cassian sighed from downstairs, tapping their feet on the wooden floors as they waited for Azriel to come give them his mission report.

“This happens every fucking time,” Cassian sat down on the couch. “Is it us? Is fatherhood killing our sex drive?”

Rhys shrugged. “I don't know what's killing your sex drive, brother. Mine is fine. Hince 3 little ones. If you could figure out what's keeping theirs so... passionate, though, I'd appreciate it.”

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x archeron!reader

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months

Text

Daddy’s Home (Dom!Gojo x Sub!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fucking clothes off.”

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It’s been 3 years. You believe your fiancé is dead. You’ve been attempting to move forward in your life without him there beside you. You try to grieve properly in order to move on….until he comes home. And he’s more than ready to make up lost time.

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS; Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Grief; Mentions of Depression, Death & Suicide; Alcohol/Drug Use; Feral!Gojo; Rough Sex; Ripping Clothes; Dirty Talk; Cunnilingus; Forced Deepthroating; Face-Fucking; Multiple Positions; Gojo Giving You Deep Dick; Breeding Kink; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Cum Eating; Ownership; Gojo Makes You a Mommy; Aftercare; Degradation; Petnames: Baby; Little Girl; Mama; Sweetheart

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

*IMPORTANT NOTE: In the manga, Gojo is only sealed for 19 days, but in the time of the rest of the manga being written and illustrated, it was 3 years. So the timeline of his being sealed and freed will be 3 years.

Writer’s Note: I’m coping. AND celebrating my man's birthday!! The happiest birthday (and week and month) to my favorite boi! 💙💙💙 -Jazz

********

You’ve never felt such pain before.

It isn't pain that can simply be fixed with a band-aid or a kiss, like a scrape or a cut. It is a deep, cavernous, emotional pain that you have never experienced before...not before losing your fiance. The man you adored and cherished. Your best friend. Your soulmate. Your sunshine peeking through the dark, gray clouds.

But since losing him, all your days are washed with gray. You can't stand any sunny days now, knowing that he loved them and would want to do something–anything–to seize them. "C'mon, baby, let's go get some ice cream!" he'd cheerfully shout. Or "let's go biking" or "wanna take a walk in the park with me?"

Now, all you do is lay in bed and watch the days go by, the pain you feel too much. You've never experienced something so profound and intense. It causes you to cry every single morning into the night until the pink of dawn comes again.

It's been like this for three years now since you lost him forever. It still feels weird to say that: forever. You thought you'd have forever with him, but it was ripped away from you all that time ago during the Shibuya incident. It was a bloody war, from what you've heard; a massacre. So many innocent people perished.

The lives that were spared were among the other Sorcerers and his students, including Nobara who managed to survive Mahito's attack . You visited her all that time she spent in the hospital after the attack as the doctors worked to save her eye. In the end, she lost it, but gained a false one just last year that looks exactly like her real one.

Nanami also survived. It was a close call, apparently. Yuji had found him and attacked Mahito before Nanami could face his violent death. Half of his face and body are completely scalped, but he doesn't try to cover them. They are his battle scars; a reminder of what he is fighting for. He still resides in Japan though you've all been telling him to retire and go to Malaysia. "Not until he's back," he'd fiercely say. "I'm not resting until he's out of that damn box."

He checks on you as do Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, to ensure you're okay. Shoko spent the night with you a few times until you firmly told her to stop. "I'm not gonna slit my wrists or anything," you scoffed. Shoko pursed her lips at you as she smoked her cigarette on your balcony. "No, but you might drink yourself to death first," she mumbled.

And yes, you have been drinking. You've also been smoking. Weed and alcohol are all that cure the pain, at least for a little while. You don't have to see his dazzling smile or snow-white hair behind your eyelids when you fall asleep high as a kite. It's unhealthy and you know that, but what else can you do?

You have nothing to live for anymore. Your fiance is gone. You try to tell the others this, who have worked tirelessly all this time to find a way to bail him out. 'It's been three years!' you think. 'If they haven't found a way yet, they never will. He is never getting out of that box or the Prison Realm.' And that is the sad, horrible truth.

You curl yourself into a ball now, wrapped in one of his crisp button-up shirts, naked underneath. It is twelve in the afternoon. You haven't eaten or gotten dressed, only showered and brushed your teeth (after Shoko sent you a text to do so). Tears stain your eyes which still sting from your sob session the night before. "Satoru," you whimper into the pillows. "Come back to me, please."

You know this isn't possible, but you wish to God or whoever makes miracles happen that it was. How can you live in a world, in a realm, where your love isn't here? You were going to get married, in spring of 2024. He had promised you after a wonderful night of dinner, champagne, and dancing on a private yacht he ordered just for you two.

When he got down on those long legs, one knee propped up, and presented you with that box, you could feel yourself melt. "After all of this is over," he promised, "after I make this world safer for you, let's do it, baby. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." He gave you that big, gigawatt, hopeful smile as you felt tears pour down your cheeks, ruining your makeup. "You up for seein' this face forever?" he joked.

That night, you answered him. Over and over again, making love until morning. Until you were both spent and ached so good from twisting your bodies in a hundred different positions. Until your thighs were soaked with his cum and all you could see, hear, and smell was him.

You were more than prepared to spend the rest of your life like that with him...and now, that's all gone. A fresh wave of grief overcomes you and you grip the pillow, stuffing your face into it. Once again, you say the same words you've been saying for three years like a prayer: "Satoru, come back to me. Please."

BANG!

The sound is so loud and abrupt that it scares you. You sit up immediately, your heart lurching into your throat. You look around the room only to find it empty, but then hear the familiar sound of the front door closing from downstairs. Someone is here. But who?

"H-Hello?" you call. "Shoko, is that you?"

No answer. It is completely silent all except for the birds chirping outside your window which only adds to the ominous feeling of the situation at hand. You never gave Shoko a spare key to your home and you're the only one who can get in and out. So who the fuck is in your house?

You then hear the familiar sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, one by one, as if the stranger is taking his sweet time doing so. You instantly reach for your phone to dial 911 and retreat to the bathroom across the room, but stop when a shadow crosses the bedroom wall, and then a figure appears in the threshold of the bedroom you used to share with your fiance.

You stare at the figure hard as if it's difficult for you to decipher it, but it's impossible not to know who it is. You can tell from how tall he is as he stands there, towering over you in the doorway. You can tell from his lean body sinewy with muscles under his black clothes. You can tell from his pale skin, snow-white hair you used to love to run your fingers through, and iced, blue eyes that stare right through you.

That same lovely, adorable, sexy, dazzling grin crosses his pillowy-soft, pink lips as he stares at you from across the room. “Honey, I’m home," Gojo chirps as if he just walked in from a hard day at work.

You stare him down, afraid to move or speak in fear of ruining this or exposing it for what it is: a trick. A mirage. A hallucination caused by too much alcohol or weed (unlikely, but still). Is this a dream? Are you dead? Did you go ahead and drink yourself to death like Shoko foresaw?

He walks toward you, slowly as if to not frighten you further. You stay on the bed, afraid to move. You're trembling. He finally stops just at arm's length from you, that same smile and warm gaze still on his face. “T-Tarou?” you whisper, finding your voice.

“In the flesh," he replies in that easy, sexy drawl that you've always loved. So careless. So laidback. His expression grows concerned, his brows drawn together. “How ya doin’, baby?” he asks. Your heart flips at the sound of that pet name. You haven't heard it in so, so long.

You scamper towards him, wanting to get closer to him, but then stop, afraid to. He doesn't react to either, still standing there and waiting for you to process this. “No,” you whisper. “This isn’t real. I’m just high as fuck right now.” You put your hands in your hair, gripping the dark coils/braids/locs/curls/twists harshly.

You know that this isn't possible. You haven't touched any weed since yesterday morning, wanting to give yourself a break. Gojo whistles as he nods at the bong sitting on your bedside table. “Well, judging from that, probably so. You got any left? I could use it after the 3 years I’ve had.”

You don't answer. You barely even breathe, afraid to do so in fear of putting a tear in the fabric of this moment and ripping it apart. You still can't tell if this is really happening. Is it a trick of your cursed grief making you see shit? Could it be that a Curse is here and has somehow taken over Gojo's body, and now, they're here to kill you? You would rather take that than this uncertainty.

Gojo suddenly raises his hand toward you as if to touch you, but doesn't. “Touch me," he encourages. Though hesitant, you lift a tentative hand and stroke your fingers over his veiny arm. All you feel is solid, soft, warm skin. Gojo's smile gets bigger. “See? I’m real. It’s really me, baby.”

And suddenly, the fog over your mind has been cleared and you can see clearly. All is for certain, including that the man standing here is your man. Your 'Tarou. “It’s really you,” you whimper. “Oh, my God….oh, my God!” You can't stop the tears or the blubbering as relief and utter joy wash over you.

Gojo opens your arms for you and he barely budges as you shoot into them, not even making him stagger. You bury your head in his chest, breathing in his scent and moving your hands over his back muscles. “I’ve missed you,” you sob. “I’ve missed you so, so much, Satoru! It’s been awful!”

He holds you tight to him, solid and absolutely real. “Shhh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he coos. “I would’ve come back sooner, but I had to take care of some things.”

You pull away to look up at him through your blurred vision. He doesn't appear hurt or bruised. In fact, he looks the exact same he did before he was sealed in that box. “What do you–“

“And I’ll tell you everything after I get some pussy.”

You pause, processing his abrupt words. “What?” you scoff. “But what about all that's happened? How'd you even escape the Prison Realm? Have you eaten or drank? What about–"

Gojo, impatient, presses a long finger to your lips. “Forget about all of that right now, Y/N. Worry about the fact that you haven’t seen me in three years and you’re dying for me to put you in the mattress again.”

Then that familiar, dark, lustful look crosses his eyes like an eclipse, taking over him. “I think you’re understanding me clearly," he says, his voice dipping an octave lower than usual. “Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fuckin’ clothes off.”

You stare at him hard, wondering if he is serious. You haven’t seen him in three years. You have so many more questions to ask him. Like what did he do while sealed? Did he see Yuji, Megumi and Nobara before he came? Were they the ones that got him out? Is he okay?

But from the way he is staring you down like he wants to take a piece of you, you can tell that all of those questions will have to just wait to be answered. Plus, the last one is already answered for you: no, he isn’t okay. He is fucking feening for you. He needs you. You can tell from the way his hands grip you closer and from the feeling of his semi hard-on pressing into your thigh from inside his pants.

You can’t imagine what three years without sex was like and you don’t want to. So you’re more than happy to give him whatever he is looking for right now. “O-Okay, Gojo,” you softly stutter. Your hands move to his top to unbutton it, first starting at the bottom. But your hands fumble and shake as if this is the first time you’re doing this for him.

“Takin’ too long,” Gojo growls, impatient. Tearing your hands away from his shirt, he immediately rips the $1,000 top off of you, revealing your laced bra and panties underneath. You squeak as he does so, alarmed. “Gojo, your shirt!” you gasp, especially when the buttons fly all over the place.

“Forget the fuckin’ shirt,” he says, his voice all but a rasp. "I’ll get a new one. It’s not fair how sexy you look in my clothes, sweetheart.” He presses his lips to your chest, breathing you in for a moment. “God, I’ve missed your smell,” he sighs. “I’ve missed how you feel. I’ve missed you so, so much.” He pulls away then, looking down at your hand. “And you’re still wearing the ring,” he points out.

You look down at your hand where the sterling silver engagement ring sits, its diamonds sparkling at you. “Of course,” you whisper. “I never took it off. I’m engaged to you.” You want to tell him that you always dreamed he’d come back, that you wanted him to see you with it when he did.

“So there’s been no one else?” he suddenly asks, his eyes sizing you up. “You haven’t been with any other man besides me?” Immediately, you shake your head. “No, Daddy,” you whisper, immediately falling back into the soft, obedient, submissive state that you always slide into with him as if it’s natural to you. And it is. He makes you feel so safe and loved and kept. It’s impossible not to do so all for him. “There’s been no one,” you say. “No one can ever make me feel the way you do.”

A crooked smirk crosses Gojo’s lips that has you quivering in between your thighs. “So one has played with this body but me?” he asks. “No one has played with that pussy but me?” Again, you shake your head, your breath becoming short and labored. His eyes seem to dark even more, becoming an ocean blue. “That’s what I wanna hear,” he whispers. Then his lips are finally, finally, on yours, his tongue dancing and swirling with yours, creating a wet, sloppy, feverish kiss that takes your breath away.

You moan wantonly into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him. Oh, how you’ve missed this. How you’ve only prayed to feel these lips again. At some point during the dizzying kissing session, Gojo pulls his clothes off, breaking apart from you to strip himself of his shirt, pants, and shoes, leaving himself in his designer briefs that look way tighter than usual.

Actually, now that you’re noticing it, his entire body looks buffer than usual. Gojo has always had muscles but was leaner three years ago. Now, his muscles are more defined, pushing up against his shirt when he has it on.

He smirks at your wandering eyes. “Something you like, mama?” he purrs. He takes your hand, running it over his hard abs and chiseled abs where his pink nipples are hard for you, ready to be sucked. “Something…different?”

“It’s just…you’re so…” You shudder in delight as he slides your hand down his stomach that you could bake cookies on. “Big,” you decide, running your free hand up his forearm. “You don’t have much to do in the Prison Realm except work out and masturbate,” he chuckles. “I wanted to be bigger and stronger for you when I was finally free. And I wanna let you know something, baby.” He leans in then, pressing his lips against your ear. “It’s all yours,” he whispers. “This body…this cock…everything. All of it is yours.”

You shudder again as his dirty words swirl in your mind. He pulls away, smirking at you. “Lemme show you what I mean.” Then, instantly, he is snapping off your bra and flinging it away before his lips and hands are latching to your nipples. He sucks and licks at your hard, brown nipples like a hungered man, his hands groping the sensitive globes and pinching your nipples with his long, piano fingers. “Look at these beautiful fuckin’ titties,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I’ve missed my girls so much.”

Your head falls back and your mouth opens, captured by the pleasure he is giving you. “S-Satoru,” you whimper. Every graze of his teeth and lick of his skillful tongue has your pussy gushing. You haven’t been this wet in three years! Actually, you haven’t even been horny in three years. No one has ever been able to arouse you the way Gojo can.

You find yourself rolling your hips against his knee as your hands grasp his broad shoulders for balance and leverage. Gojo hums as you grind your wet, panty-covered pussy against his knee, smirking up at you playfully. “Grindin’ that pussy on my leg, hm?” he tuts. “Even after three years, you’re still a little slut. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.”

He gives one of your titties one last suck before he shoves himself away from you. You stare up at him, confused, while he only gives you a stern look. “Get on the bed and open your legs. I need that pussy in my face.”

You are helpless to refuse him, especially when your pussy is begging and sobbing for the same thing. You quickly hurry onto the bed and sit back onto your elbows as you open your legs for him. Gojo is between them immediately, his hands ripping off your panties as if they are no more than strings. As soon as he gets a look at your puffy, wet pussy leaking for him, he groans and his cock visibly twitches in his pants. “Shit,” he hisses. “I’ve missed her too.”

And then he’s giving in like he would the cleanest, purest, bluest waters, his hands under your ass to give him a better angle and a better way to plunge his tongue deeper inside you. He laps and sucks at your pussy and sensitive clit, his tongue flicking and swirling around your hole like he needs it. Craves it.

You grab at his hair, pushing his head deeper into you as you wail and moan to the heavens above. “O-Oh, my God!” you cry out to the ceiling. “‘Tatoru, yes, more! Please give me more! Don’t stop!”

Your voice bounces off of the bedroom walls, unbound and unashamed. You haven’t had this kind of pleasure––so intense and explosive––in so long. His wet mouth and soft lips feel so good. His nose brushing against your clit as his tongue swirls inside your pussy is beyond. You feel incredible…too incredible. Gojo works his mouth fast, pulling you quickly towards an orgasm that gathers in your core and threatens to tumble down over you.

“Wait, Daddy!” you protest. “Slow down! ‘M gonna cum too fast!”

Gojo’s blue eyes peer up at you through long, white lashes as he continues to lap at your cunt. “Do it,” he demands. “‘Cause I’m finna make you cum as many times as I want to. I’ll make you cream your pretty brains out till dawn, baby. I’m making up for lost time.”

He ducks back down, going faster, and even adding his long index and middle fingers inside of the wet, tight depths of your pussy. Your walls clench around him instantly as he expertly finds your G-spot and begins gliding his fingers up against it, encouraging you to cum with every stroke of his fingers and tongue. “Do it,” he orders. “Cum for me. Cum around my fingers and my tongue, gorgeous. I’ve got you. I promise.”

And you know he does. He grips one of your hips with one hand as he finger fucks you with the other, humming “mm-hmm” and other encouraging words that are smothered by your pussy as he drags you closer to your orgasm. When it finally breaks, it crashes onto you like a wave, causing your back to arch off of the bed like you’re experiencing an exorcism. “Fuck!” you sob as you feel your body shake and shudder through your earth-shattering orgasm.

Moans of Gojo’s government and curses to the stars leave your lips as Gojo carries you through your mind-blowing, body-shaking, earth-quaking orgasm…and even after, when your body aches and your heart is pounding, he continues to eat your pussy.

He continues to lap and suck at your lips, cleaning up the cum that dribbles out your hole and down your asscrack. He licks there too, moaning breathlessly and wantonly as he does. Finally, when he is good and satisfied, he pulls away from you and sits back onto his hands, breathing heavily with his chin and lips shiny with your juices and his saliva.

A weak moan leaves your lips as your pussy twitches in delight and exhaustion at being stimulated. You feel so, so good. So free. You finally feel as if the sun has finally shown itself behind the gray clouds that have darkened your life for three years. You look at your man adoringly, wanting him to know how much you love him and how good he has made you feel. “Gojo,” you sigh. “That was amazing. I–“

“Open your mouth,” he demands. You button your lip, your words failing you immediately. You stare at him blankly, your post-orgasm brain not quite processing his words. Gojo sits up on his knees on the mattress, grabbing his cock in his pants. “You fuckin’ heard me,” he growls. “Open that slutty mouth, now. Don’t make me tell you again, little girl.” He pins you down with an intimidating look that is only intensified by his sapphire eyes.

Once again, you can’t deny him. While still recovering from your orgasm, you open your mouth wide for him, your plump lips covering your teeth and your tongue out. Just the way he likes it. Gojo walks towards you on his knees and stays beside you as he unbuttons his pants. In one swift motion, he takes down his pants and his briefs, causing his cock to pop out. The long, thick, veiny appendage, bubbling with pre-cum from its pink head, lightly slaps you in the face, causing you to gasp.

Gojo grabs your neck rather roughly, pulling you towards his cock without properly preparing you or waiting for you to prepare yourself. You stare down at his large dick, alarmed at how hard he is. The veins in his shaft throb as does his head that is quickly turning from a soft pink to an angry red. “Gojo, hold up–“

But your words are interrupted by his cock sliding between your lips. A hiss of relief leaves Gojo’s lips as he grips your neck, beginning to rut his hips deep into your mouth. “Sorry, mama,” he groans, “but I can’t be nice to that throat today. I’m just too pent-up. You understand, right?”

You can’t even answer. His cock is too thick; too big; it stretches your mouth out too wide, making your jaw hurt. But all you have to do is breathe through your nose and take it, which Gojo tells you to do so, as he begins to fuck your throat like it’s your pussy. Like it’s his own personal fleshlight.

“Fuckin’ fuck yes!” Gojo loudly grunts, his voice completely primal and animalistic as he roughly fucks your throat. Though he has fucked your throat before, this time, it feels much, much different. He grips your hair and makes your scalp sting with how much he pulls it. He plunges your throat so fast and so hard in your sloppy throat that saliva drips down your chin and down your tits. He turns your face into his fuck toy, doing with it as he pleases.

But though primal and animalistic, he is still completely involved with your pleasure. When you suddenly feel his fingers quickly rubbing your clit after licking his palm, your body lurches and your thighs twitch while you whine and protest feebly around his cock. “Theeeere we go,” he chuckles. “That’s what I want. Feel good with me, mama. This is where your weak, right? Right here?”

He applies more pressure, rubbing your rosebud in time with his thrusts into your throat, his balls swinging against your chin. All you can feel, taste, and smell is him. Your senses are completely overtaken by him. “T-Tawou!” You moan around his cock. “Two mwuch! ‘M sensitive!” Your words are a muffled, jumbled mess around his thick dick, causing more spit to fall from your mouth as you try to speak.

You go to close your legs, but Gojo’s hand yanking on your hair stops you short. “Uh-uh, sweetie,” he teasingly says. “Don't pull away. You owe me this.” He pushes your head farther down his cock, bottoming out in your mouth, causing him to moan so loud that it echoes in the bedroom. “You owe me this for stayin’ so damn sexy after so long. How is that even possible?” He questions you repeatedly as he fucks your throat harder and faster, grunting as he does so. "How's that possible, huh? Huh? Tell me, baby.”

You are turned into a total and complete hole the more he fucks your mouth and flicks your clit, bringing you to yet another orgasm that has your thighs shaking. Finally, he releases your hair and lets you pull away, causing his cock to pop out of your mouth. “Gonna cum!” you whine, spit and cum all over your mouth. “I’m cummin’ again, Satoru!”

Gojo stares at your pussy like a kid in a candy store as you cum once again, gushing all around his long fingers and all over the bedsheets. “Gooood girl!” he praises you. “Cum on these fingers, baby. Gimme what I want, but don't get too distracted, mmkay?” He takes his cock and slides himself back home into your mouth even as you moan and your body writhes on the bed.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, transfixed by the way your body moves and your pussy clenches. “That’s what I want. This is what I need.”

He rubs at your clit until he can feel your exhausted body jerking from the aftershocks. He finally pulls away from you then, cock and all, though he is still hard and throbbing. “I need to fuck you now,” he growls, desperation in his eyes. “And I can’t stop until I cum inside you, baby…without a rubber. Is that okay with you?”

You blink at him, your sight slightly blurred from the two orgasms and your throat raw from it being fucked into oblivion. He must know that you will say yes. He must know that you’ll say yes to anyone he wants or needs. But yet, he still asks because safe sex has always been a priority with him in your relationship. He has always used condoms and has always made a point to not do anything involving PIV sex if he happened to run out.

But now, here he is, telling you that he needs to fuck you raw and cum inside you, possibly breeding you. And you find yourself burning for the same thing like a wildfire has lit inside you. You lean back against the pillows and open your cum-soaked thighs for him, showing him your glistening, puffy, sensitive pussy. “Yes,” you reply. “Fuck me, Daddy. Cum inside me. Breed me.”

Gojo stares at your pussy, spread open for him like it’s spun gold. Suddenly, the loving, silly, goofy man you’ve grown to love is gone, replaced with one who is starved, rough, demanding, and merciless. It thrills and frightens you.

“Oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ get it, girl,” he growls before he grabs you, tosses you onto your back, and gets on top of you. “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re spent,” he promises as he throws your legs over his shoulders and prepares to slide deep inside of you until his balls touch your ass.

When he says this, he means it. Baby, Gojo has you in every position known to man.

He starts first by fucking you in missionary, giving you deep, deep dick that nearly touches your soul and makes you see stars. One of his big, veiny hands wraps around your throat, squeezing gently on your windpipe, while the other pins your thigh open as his cock plunges in and out of your wet, sobbing cunt. He pounds you into the mattress, his big body pressing against yours and his hips nailing your pelvis.

Then he has you on top in 69, his hands groping and smacking your jiggly ass while he, once again, stuffs his face in your cunt. You suck his dick in time with his tongue laps, gagging and slobbering all over his cock much to his delight. It is sloppy and dirty and messy…and you love every minute of it.

You love how his pubic hairs tickle your chin the deeper you slide him down your throat. You love how your eyes sting with tears as he tickles the back of your throat. You love the way his tongue slides from your pussy hole to your asshole, lapping at each one as if they’re the best things he’s ever tasted.

He fucks on your back, hanging off the bed. He fucks you on your stomach, your ass tooted up while his feet are firmly planted on the bed, hammering his dick deep inside of you. He sucks you on your side, his hands cupping your jiggling breasts while his lips caress your neck and shoulder. And he makes you cum every. Single. Time.

By the time he has you on your knees with his cock buried deep in your pussy once again and your arms pulled behind your back, your body is aching for rest and your pussy is a mushy, gushy mess around his cock.

But still you persist, moaning and screaming at the top of your lungs the harder he fucks you. Your voice, along with his own, the creaking bedsprings, and the sound of skin slapping against skin, fills the air around you. “Yes, yes, Daddy, yes, fuck me!” you babble, your words a jumbled mess.

Gojo cackles from behind you, loving how slutty and broken you are on his cock. “You feelin’ good, baby?” he asks. “This dick makin’ you feel good? Don’t have to use those damn toys or those fingers anymore, no. You’ve got me now and I’ll take good, good care of this pussy.”

He slams his hips harder against your ass, making it bounce and jiggle. The harder he goes, the more intense your orgasm gets and you find yourself about to have your sixth orgasm of the day…or night. Is it nighttime now? You can't tell. You’ve been at this for hours, fucking and cumming all over the bed. You don't even know what day it is anymore.

All you can think about is Gojo’s dick and cumming on it. “Shit, I’m gonna cum again!” you sob.

Gojo’s hand circles around your throat, choking you. “Cum on this dick,” he demands. “Do it! Fuckin’ do it for me, baby!”

And you do. Like a puppet on a string being controlled by the white-haired, big-dicked man behind you, you writhe in the air and cum all over his cock. A weak, long moan leaves your lips as you come undone, all self-control leaving you. Gojo pulls out of you with a hiss, talking about how “fuckin’ tight” you are. When you’re released, your arms fall to your sides as you crumble onto the mattress, falling face-first into the pillow. Your body is hot and sweaty, your pussy is twitching, your ass is stinging from his assault on it. You are completely spent.

Gojo leans down to kiss your forehead, smiling at your exhaustion. “Aww, is my baby tired now?” he coos. You weakly moan in response, too tired to speak. “Too bad because I still need to cum inside you. You did ask me to breed you and I’ve gotta make this count.”

Before you can even protest, he is grabbing your weak body and forcing you onto your knees, hiking your ass up for him. He sinks into your overly sensitive, used pussy once more, drawing a moan out of both of you. You let him do as he pleases, too exhausted to fight or argue.

He takes hold of your hips and ruts into you like his life depends on it, nailing that spot again and again that makes you see the entire universe behind your eyelids. It feels so damn good. He fucks you at a breakneck pace, going faster with each second that passes. “O-Oh, s-shit!” you scream into the mattress. “F-Fuck, Daddy, f-f-u-uck!”

Gojo’s fucking is egged on by your moans, his pelvis slamming into your ass and taking your very breath away. “Take this cock,” he groans. “Take all of this dick, baby. It’s yours. All of it is fuckin’ yours. It always was and always will be.” He hikes up his leg and fucks you on one knee, causing him to grow louder and his moans to become more desperate and needy.

“God, I missed this!” he whines. “I’ve been fucking burning for you, baby. Needed you so, so much!” You picture him in the Prison Realm, his hand wrapped around his cock as he is surrounded by darkness and loneliness. As tears spring into your eyes, you lift yourself up onto weak arms to look back at him. “Then show me,” you whisper. “Show me how much you’ve missed me. Cum inside me, ‘Tarou, baby.”

You begin to toss your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust. Gojo takes what you give him and serves it right back, moving in tandem with you. “You want me to cum?” he asks. You nod, moaning and whimpering as you feel his cock begin to swell inside you. “You want me to feel that pussy up?” he grunts. “Want me to make you a mommy? Want me to give you a kid? My kid?”

He begins to pound your pussy into the mattress again, picking up speed. You can feel your last orgasm rising, ready to rip through you. “Say it to me, mama,” he demands. “Tell me you want my baby. Lemme hear it.”

“Yes!” you cry out. “Yes, Satoru, I want your child! I wanna mother your baby!” That must please Gojo because he begins rolling his hips harshly against your ass, rutting into you like he’s trying to fit a home run. His handsome face is red and glittering in sweat, his snow-white hair plastered to his wet forehead.

“Can’t wait to see you full with me,” he groans. “Can’t wait till this tummy is round with my baby and those tits are full of milk. You’re gonna look so, so pretty carryin’ my baby, sweetheart. You’re gonna be the best mommy ever.”

And he’ll be the best daddy ever. That is all you can think as you feel your own orgasm rising at the same time as him, like the sun and the moon rising in unison in the sky. Forever bonded. Forever together.

“Gonna cum,” Gojo warns. “Gonna cum deep inside you. You’d better cum with me too. Cum all over my cock, baby. Cum with me while I fill this little pussy up.”

You nod and wail into the pillow, gripping it for dear life as another blinding orgasm rips through your body. Gojo fucks into your wet, cum-soaked pussy until he feels his own nut coming and he desperately fucks you to chase his high. “Cumming!” he babbles. “‘M cummin’, I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!”

And when he fills you up, it’s explosive. It’s deep. It’s intense. It fills every part of you, filling you with warmth and the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. You weakly moan as you feel his cum fill your tummy, no doubt reaching your womb. He stills for a moment, plugging his cum inside you, before slowly and sloppily rocking his hips into you to fuck his cum deep into your pussy.

When he is finally sure that you’re good and bred, he puts his hands on his narrow hips and whistles tiredly. “Shit,” he sighs. “I really needed that.” You moan in agreement. He then pulls out of you slowly, causing you to whimper quietly as your aching pussy is no longer filled.

He stares at it between your thighs, humming appetizingly. “Mmm, now that’s a sight: a pretty, fucked pussy drippin’ with my cum. Don’t mind if I do.”

Then his mouth is between your thighs again, lapping gently at his and your cum mingled together all over your pussy and inner thighs. You arch your back for him, moaning softly at his soft, careful tongue strokes.

When he finishes, you turn to him, finding his semi-hard cock dripping with your mingled fluids. “You still got some left here, Daddy,” you coo before moving to lap up the cum you left behind on his cock. He allows it, his hand in your hair while he sighs about how good you are.

Once you are cleaned up and all is said and done, the two of you finally lay side by side in your bed, together again at last. You curl into his chest, leaning your head against his heart and wrapping your arms around him. He welcomes it, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead “Welcome home, baby,” you whisper as you look up at him. “Now you gonna tell me how you got out?”

He looks down at you, almost as if he forgot he was supposed to answer a bunch of your very important questions. “Oh, Itadori did that,” he explains like he’s telling you the weather. “He’s a smart kid, y’know. Say, you up for some sushi? I’m cravin’ some fish right now.”

All you can do is laugh and kiss your man before getting the takeout menu that you keep in the nightstand next to the bed. All the important questions can wait.

For now, all you want and need is him.

THE END.

#smutty smut #my works #black fanfic writer #my fic shit #black coded reader #black writers #satoru gojo x black!reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #feral gojo #happy birthday gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut

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hwalloween · 2 years

Text

His Princess | (san smut)

Pairing: BadBoy!San x PerfectStudent!Reader

Synopsis: Despite his reputation and threatening appearance, you were San’s princess, and he made sure to let you know of that.

Genre: the best smut i ever wrote and lots of fluff

Word Count: 3k

Warning: unprotected sex. oral (f receiving). praise. petnames (princess, baby). overstimulating. service dom san. san is obsessed with reader, madly in love. this is both filfthy and very soft

Tag: -

A/N: i literally just wrote this, took me two hours, but i just fell down into a san brainrot and couldn’t stop myself. i didn’t expected to turn out this soft and cute and caring and smutty but it did and i’m proud of it :D

There was something that he found so endearing about the way your room looked. The pastel colored walls, hundreds of plushies, cream colored table, cute school material, big pink and ruffled bed covered in ever fluffier sheets, everything about the room was so cute. There was something he loved about the contrast of the pretty room with him. How his dark palette stood out, the rough fabrics looking nothing like the soft ones around him, how his sharp lines felt like cold ice on skin. He loved the way his clothes looked on your bedroom floor, outstanding and eye catching, a reminder of what was going on. He looked like the boogeyman inside a children's room, crawling on your bed, ready to devour you. But you didn't run away, no. You were his pretty little princess, the only one that could make him melt just with a smile. You wanted him to crawl on your bed and have you.

There was something he found so attractive about how you looked on the bed. Legs spread out, chest rising and falling out of excitement, pretty baby pink lingerie adorning your skin, and your face, gosh your face. Your pretty doe eyes looking up at him, your cheeks flushed with a gorgeous tint of red, your lips spread apart and puffy from making out with him a second a go. The way you looked so vulnerable, but so eager to let him in. Him, the only one that could spoil you the way you liked, the only one that could make you feel like the princess you were, treating you the right way. San loved being the one ruining you for the whole night.

There was something about the way his gaze was so lust filled and dark that made your legs tremble a bit. How he took his time taking off his clothes, gaze never leaving yours, he knew you liked when he put up a show. The way his arms tensed when grabbing the fabric hem of his shirt, pulling over his head and tossing it to the ground, looking like a black coffee stain on your pale white carpet. The way his hand gripped with rather impatience the buckle of his leather belt, fingers fumbling to get rid of the material he had used on your body before. The way he was so quick to kick his shoes off and get rid of the dark jeans pants, letting them fall to the ground and tossing them aside with his shirt. The way his body looked, covered with scars and tattoos, his muscles exposed and making your mouth water even more. There was something about the way you could not be 100% serious all the time that San loved. The way you made grabby hands towards him made him laugh, his smile filling up your heart with happiness. He shook his head negatively, making you pout.

"I want to get you ready first, princess" He always called you like that, but it felt new to you every single time. "You want to take my cock like the nice little girl that you are, hm?" You nodded eagerly, mind starting to get foggy just at the thought of him inside you. "Then let me eat you out first to make sure you're going to be wet enough for me"

There was something on how you tasted that made San's dick get even harder underneath his trousers. How wet you were, ready to receive him, ready to make a mess on his face. Something about the way your hips rode his face made his body so impatient, his hips buckling up out of response to how sensitive he was. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist, pulling you down onto his mouth, and the other one was gripping onto your right thigh, leaving bruises and marks that he knew you loved to look at. He leaped his tongue across your folds, grabbing your clit between his lips with an open mouth kiss, sucking on it and making your legs shake even more. You weren't even riding his face anymore at this point, you were just standing above him, hands grabbing the headboard of your bed and head thrown back, pleas and cries of pleasure leaving your mouth. He ate you out like a starved man, like it was the last time he was ruining you like that, like he was never going to be able to touch your body again. The arm wrapped around your waist was gone, his hand getting closer to your cunt and, while he continued sucking on your swollen bud vigorously, you felt two of his slender fingers penetrating your pussy, curling up inside of you and making you feel like heaven. He carefully scissors them, feeling how you clench and more of your arousal goes straight to his mouth. You couldn't even process what was happening before you felt his fingers starting to pump in and out of you, making your hips come back to life and ride them while he fingered you. You brought your head back to your front, your eyes barely opening due to the wave of pleasure running through your body, and your gaze met with his. His sharp eyes looking up at you, so dark but at the same time so filled with love and passion for you, staring right at your soul while his mouth worked wonders in your soaking cunt. You took one of your hands of the headboard, knuckles white from your grip, and you brought them to his hair, not gripping at them like you usually would do, but gently brushing your fingers through his dark hair, softly feeling them while looking at him back with the same amount of love.

That was what made San get turned on. Your love. The way you took care of him, how you looked at him with your soft pretty eyes, the way you were so gentle with him, even if he was the brute he was. Your genuine love for him made him so incredibly turned on and ready to please you, to give his body for you to use, to be the one making you cum all night. It was a simple thing you did, running your fingers through his hair, but it was like you ignited a fire inside of him. He fastened the pace of his fingers, almost pounding on you with them, and sucked even more on your clit, nibbling at your bud with his tongue before moving back to your folds, tasting you even more. You felt the coil underneath your stomach get tighter, your mouth opening but making no sound, eyebrows frowning as your chest rose up and down to pick up the pace of your heavy breathing. There was both a feel of bruteness and care on the way he ate you. Being so aggressive with his tongue as he licked your entire pussy, adding it with his fingers inside your abused hole, entering you and leaving right after faster than you could register.

"S-Sannie" Something about the way you always calls him like that, with the sweetest tone, even when moaning like a whore on the heat "I-I'm cumming" You cried out just above a whisper, loud enough for him to hear through the blood pumping in his ears and face. He loved your expression, how you look helpless and needy, how your mouth opened and closed right after, bottom lip getting caught between your teeth. He sucked on your clit again, before realising it with a little pop

"Cum for me, princess. Cum all over your Sannie" His tone was low, but endearing. You could hear the care in his voice. And with that, you snapped, head thrown back, mouth hanging open and body shaking from the pleasure of your orgasm. Before you could moan loudly, you felt San's hand cover your mouth, preventing you from waking up your whole house. His slicked fingers touched your cheek, reminding you from the sinful view you had just a few seconds ago. As your hips slowly came to a halt, and your mind was brought back from the white out it was, you felt shifting underneath you, the feeling of being sat on San's lap now being present. Your eyes opened after a few small blinks, looking forward and seeing your boyfriend's face in front of you. His mouth and chin were glistening, even his nose had some remains of your cum, but his eyes never failed to make you feel small and weak, even if you were on top of him. He carefully took his hand off your mouth, looking at his fingers, also covered on you. He took them right to his mouth, humming and quietly moaning at your taste blessing his tongue again, eyes flushed shut and eyebrows lightly furred. The sight of him enjoying himself because of you made your cunt feel wet again, folds clenching against the empty feel inside your pussy, you were pulsating for him.

"Sweet as always, so fucking good" The way he swears makes you buckle your hips, looking for friction. His other hand comes to stop you, holding you down with a tight and strong grip "Love the way you taste, princess. Like the finest dessert" His gaze comes back to you, eyes hazy with lust and need, but also filled with care. San doesn't miss a beat, attaching his lips to yours in a messy, open mouthed kiss, tongue intertwining with yours and leaving you breathless. His hands travel south and rest on your ass, gripping the soft flesh and massaging it right after. You take that as a opportunity to grind down on him, sopping cunt rubbing against his clothed cock as his hands guild your hips on a erotic lap dance. Your mouths separate to catch a breath, hands going up on his toned chest, feeling every single inch of your man. Your fingers gazed through the ink that marked his skin permanently, the patterns almost hypnotizing and complementing his sun kissed skin. You could feel the coil coming back again, just the feeling of his hard on being rubbed against your folds enough to make you want to cum again. A whine left your mouth, warning San that you were ready to take him full. With his strong arms, he carefully places you down onto the bed sheets, the soft mattresses welcoming your hot and bothered body.

His hands hold your shins, opening your legs once again to him. The sight of your wet pussy pleading for him made his dick strain in pain again, begging to be freed from his underwear. He slowly took the fabric off of his body, both to tease you and because he liked to inflict pain on himself. His cock slapped his lower abdomen, standing thick and red, precum coating his tip and dripping down its shaft. You wanted to have him in your mouth so badly, to taste him too, but your need to be fucked good was louder. You unconsciously let one of your hands creep down on you, fingers rubbing your swollen clit lightly and spreading your folds, welcoming him in. His lips turned into a grin, loving how you were just as eager and needy for him as he was for you. San scooted himself closer, lightly lifting your bum up and getting himself slightly under you, letting your folded self fall back onto his spread thighs. He took his hard on with one hand, lightly tapping on your pussy and causing your hips to halt a bit.

"Let's be careful, m'kay princess? I don't wanna ruin your pretty sheets and make my baby upset later" He said, adjusting himself between your legs and slowly pushing his cock inside of you. The way he fits just perfectly inside your cunt, making you feel full and stuffed. You wanted to moan loud, to scream his name until you have no voice left, but you couldn't. He was your dirty little secret. He was everything your parents didn't want you dating: reckless, mean, and with a bad reputation. He terrorized the school and laughed about it, he thrashed the classroom and screamed at teachers, everyone was afraid of San. But not you. You were his princess, and he knew his princess would never be scared of him. He knew that his princess knew more than what those bastards at school knew. Just like he knew more about you than the perfect student with zero time for people facade you pull up every single day. He knew your weak spots, he knew where to touch and how to, he read you like you were his favorite book, over and over again. He knew you loved when he hovered over you, arms on each side of your face and his strong frame caging you underneath him, forcing your body to be folded in half. His face being so close to yours, lips just above a inch away, just one strain of his black slicked hair glued to his forehead, and his eyes eating you alive. The way his gaze burned through your skin, memorizing every little detail about you and lusting over your perfection. He knew every mole, every freckle, every skin dent, every scar you had, he could name them without even looking at you. He knew your body better than you did.

He knew how to angle in just the right way. How to make you see stars with just one thrust. He loved to hear you begging for him to cum, even though he was the one worshiping you the whole night long. The way his hips snapped back onto you, the loud sound of skin to skin echoing through the dark room, bodies only being lit by the moonlight coming from the huge window. Your hands hugged his back, nails scratching down red stripes on his skin as he pulled almost everything out, only to slam back at you at full force, making your whole body move, and the bed. He left wet kisses down your throat, sucking and biting on your sensitive spots, licking them right after and leaving a trail of purple hickeys and saliva on your warm skin.

There was something about the way you took him into you, how you were gripping onto his dick with your walls, like you wanted to milk him dry. Something on the way your back arched as he kissed down on your chest, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other one free, letting its hand grab one of your breasts and cup it softly. His fingers toyed with your hard nipple, while his mouth sucked and bit on the other one, making your head fuzzy with the sensation of being so spoiled. Something on how your body served itself for him, how you were so open and ready for him to take you, to claim every single inch of your beauty as his, how the only thing that could come out of your lips were his name and cried out moans, over and over again, as if he's the only thing on his mind. He was the only thing on your mind, his love, his touch, his care, his body, he was the only thing you could think of day and night, your mind was filled with him just like your body was. It was him, and him only.

Your cunt clenched around him even more, letting him aware that you were going to cum again. He loved making you cum. He loved seeing you get lost in the pleasure, using him as your personal toy. He never thought that he would be so whipped for someone, but gosh you had a spell on him. Everything he wanted to do was to please you, to see you feel good, to make you happy, to worship you and treat you like royalty because you deserved it. You deserved it getting taken care of, you deserved having someone by your side, someone that spoiled you rotten, that cuddles you and kissed you all the time, someone that cared, someone that truly cared for you. You deserved everything and more, he wanted to give you the world. The feeling and thought of you being so turned on because of him made the coil on his stomach start to tight up. He wrapped his arms around you, hugging your whole body, just like you did with him. You could hear, feel his mouth by your ear, breathing heavily and moaning your name, moaning how much he loved you and wanted you. His thrusts were getting sloppier and more frenetic, as well as his voice rising up with his moans, just like yours. As you felt both of your bodies tensing up more and more, you brought his face to yours, looking at him with that gaze that could melt him into a puddle.

"San…" You spoke above a whisper between moans "I love you" Your lips crashed against his, taking him into your mouth in a heated and loving kiss as you both came. You muffled each other's moans, bodies moving together as you both rode from your orgasms, the feeling of being unbearably close making everything better. As you pulled out for air, your eyes took the sight of him. Face covered in sweat, a few hairs glued on his forehead. Cheeks flushed with crimson tint and mouth open, lips puffy and covered in a layer of spit. And his eyes, looking back at you, with that sweet gaze and pure love, those strong sharp eyes that dived onto yours, making you feel safe. He reached one of his hands to your face, brushing a few hair back and letting it rest on the top of your head, while both of you catch your breaths. He nuzzled his nose on your cheek, making you chuckle as you felt him leave a soft kiss on the top of your skin. His voice was low and soft, like a quiet wind in your ear.

"I love you too, princess. And I always will"

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lilacs-and-vanilla · 10 months

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@shslsimpette commented on a different Spot post that they want an N$FW alphabet for the Spot 😈

Honestly I was thinking of making one of these because they seem very thorough. Great way to make a guideline for smut writing.

First one I’ve done before, and it was hard to get all of the words for the funky letters like Q and X. But anyways…

(god this took so long…)

N$FW Alphabet for The Spot/Johnathan Ohnn

All of the writing beyond this point is smutty

A - How good is he at aftercare?

He’s very doting.

“Did that feel good?” “Are you alright?” “Do you need anything?” “Let me get you some water.” “Do you want to rinse off?”

If you decide you want a bath, he will use his portals to (haphazardly) run you one so he doesn’t have to leave your side.

Cuddles and pillows and blankets galore, trying his best to make you comfortable.

B - What’s his favorite body part on you?

He likes looking at your face, studying your features and committing them to memory. Especially your eyes.

It completely stumps the both of you as to how he can perceive things like sight, scent, and sound without normal features like a nose or eyes or ears, but you won’t question it.

He doesn’t mean to stare, he really doesn’t. You can always tell when he is though, because the his face portal swirls in a different kind of way. What an interesting way to read someone.

He just likes your eyes, your freckles, your birthmarks, your scars, the features that set you apart from everyone else and makes you you.

The fact that he’s missing his own face adds to this little obsession. He misses his old body, but that doesn’t mean he can’t love you for yours.

It’s not entirely sexual, but he does like watching the way your face looks when you’re.. ahem. Enjoying yourself.

The way your eyes roll back, or the way your mouth hangs open, the drool and the tears. He loves all of it and he loves that he’s the one making you look that way.

C - Cum. Anything to do with that particular liquid.

He doesn’t excrete normal bodily fluids like saliva or semen. At least not anymore. Anything that comes out of him is dark and oozy.

If he’s overstimulated, all of his holes will start leaking. It can get a bit messy, especially on the sheets. Thank goodness it doesn’t stain fabric or skin…

He gets very embarrassed whenever he starts leaking (or sees it leaking out of you).

D - What’s his dirty secret?

He won’t admit it, but he’s stolen a few pieces of your clothing.

It’s proven that he can eat through the hole on his face and taste and sense spice. So I want to assume that he can also smell.

He likes to hold your clothes or your sheets over the hole in his face while he touches himself, sometimes even slipping some of the fabric in to get a taste.

But there was one time he got a little too carried away and now one of your favorite hoodies that you thought you lost is floating around in dark matter space somewhere.

He’s too ashamed to tell you.

E - Experience. How much does he have?

None. None whatsoever. At least not any hands on experience with partners other than you.

He’s seen enough p0rn (the good stuff, none of that over dramatic acting crap) to know what’s good or not. He knows what to look for, signs your close or if you’re uncomfortable.

In typical scientist fashion, he has his strategies and, in theory, he could easily keep you on the edge for as long as he wants or absolutely wreck you.

He just hasn’t mustered up the courage to put his plans into action though…

F - What’s his favorite position?

Ride him. Ride him. He likes seeing you on top of him.

He’s very vanilla when it comes to this. He doesn’t want you to twist or bend in uncomfortable positions.

But with that power of his, the ability to stick a limb through one hole and make it appear somewhere else? What else could he do…?

G - Goof or aloof? His general attitude.

He’s a goof. A whole nerd. What else would you expect of a scientist?

The only time he’s not is when he’s brooding, focused on revenge, on proving himself.

He wants to prove he’s not just some “Villain of the Week.” He wants to prove to you that he’s all you need.

H - Hair. How much does he have? Is he well groomed?

The poor man misses his hair, so he lives vicariously through yours.

He’s not particularly into hair pulling. He does enjoy this though:

Your head leaned back against a pillow on top of his fist as he grips the back of your head, holding it in place as he… (insert smexy scene that I can’t put into proper words right now).

When you’re both finished he likes to run his fingers through it, play with it, braid it, just touch it in general.

I - Intimacy. How is he in romantic aspect?

He tries to be romantic, and sometimes it works. Other times it comes off cheesy. That just makes you love him more though.

He’s a bit traditional. Flowers, candle light, cute little picturesque date night set ups (away from onlookers, obviously)

Secluded spots around the city like rooftops or museums and restaurants after they close.

And when you tell him it’s goofy shit like this that makes you want to absolutely destroy him in the bedroom, date night is normally cut a little short.

J - Does he jerk off?

He prefers to do it with you, but if he’s alone he’ll make do with his hands.

K - What are his kinks?

Edging. Edge him until all of his holes are leaking black ooze (call me weird, I have a vision). Edge him until he whines and cries and begs to cum.

Degrade him, but in a nice way. He won’t let anyone do it but you. Don’t call him pathetic. Don’t make him feel bad about himself. Make him feel like you’re in control. Like he can let himself go.

L - Location. What’s his favorite place to do it?

He’s down to do it anywhere as long as no one else is around.

And he can really go anywhere. Anywhere in your dimension or any other. Pick a spot, and he’ll take you there.

M - Motivation. What turns him on?

The edges of his holes are sensitive. If you touch the place where spot meets skin, he’ll squirm.

It feels like a tingle to him. A localized one.

Run your fingers along the inside of a hole on his palm and the feeling will shoot up his forearm. Do it on his stomach or his thighs or god forbid between his legs when his cock isn’t in use (he keeps it somewhere), and you’ll work him up real quick.

N - No, absolutely not. What turns him off? Something he won’t do?

He won’t participate in exhibitionism. He wants to be the only one to see you come undone. It’s all because of him after all. He should be the only one to witness it.

O - Oral. How does he feel about it? Giving? Receiving?

Seeing as though he doesn’t have a mouth anymore, he can’t eat you out. But he really, really wishes he could.

He was reluctant to let you put himself in your mouth, seeing as though he wasn’t sure if his strange ooze could be safely digested.

You were confident though, insistent you wanted it.

P - Pace. Fast and rough or slow and gentle?

It depends on how he feels.

If he’s feeling intimate and romantic, laid back, he’ll take things slow.

If he’s trying in that state of mind where he’s trying to prove himself to you, he will give it all he’s got to the point where he wears himself out.

Q - Quickies. How does he feel about them?

If you work him up in public, he will find somewhere in an alley or rooftop to bang one out. To bang you.

R - Does he take risks?

What’s a good villain without a few risks? And he wants to be a good villain. He just doesn’t think that applies to the bedroom.

There was the time he got a bit carried away, and in the middle of a particularly intense love making session, one of his portals opened involuntarily.

You immediately recognized your apartment building’s elevator. The mirrored walls, the carpet, the sliding doors closing behind a neighbor as they were leaving.

He apologized profusely and said he’d close it, but you told him to keep it open and he was too riled up to stop now. He was so close. Maybe just one more minute…

It was a sick, nerve-racking game of elevator roulette.

S - Stamina. How many rounds will he last?

He can last maybe two or three rounds when he’s on top. If you want more, you’ll have to take over, climbing on top of him and pressing him into the bed as you pull more out of him.

T - Toys. Does he use them? On you? On himself?

He’s a big fan of vibes. Whether it’s something that goes inside either you or him or something that slides around his cock.

Anything that gives off that extra little buzzy feeling.

He doesn’t like fleshlights. He’d rather be inside you.

U - “Unfair!” How does he feel about teasing? Giving? Receiving?

He’s absolute shit at dishing it out. He gets too flustered to tease you, even when he’s on top.

He’s also the “don’t bully me, I’ll cum” type. Tease him, degrade him (but be kind), call him your little cum puppy (Dalmatian comment reference?) and he will pass away.

V - How vocal is he? What sounds does he make?

Johnathan has a tendency to ramble during love making. One moment he’s drilling you or getting drilled by you, and the next he’s telling you fun facts about whatever comes to mind.

He doesn’t do it on purpose. His brain simply short circuits at some point. He goes with what he knows.

(Why don’t you turn it into a game? See how many facts he can name about a specific subject before he cums…)

In general, he’s very whiny. That coupled with all of the begging creates a perfect symphony.

Exhibit A: “Ohh fuck! Ah, youfeelsssoosogood.. please, (Y/N) please. m’ so close, please. don’t stop dontstopp aaahhn~”

W - Wild card. A miscellaneous headcanon.

As a part of the monster fucker fandom, of course anything that doesn’t have a standard cock has a tentacle one.

Anyways. Portal cock…

Enough said.

X - X Marks the Spot (kms for this joke). His favorite place to be touched.

Anywhere! He just wants you to touch him.

So many people think he’s scary or creepy. When you touch him, all of that goes away.

Y - Yearning. How high is his sex drive?

He’s not insane about it to the point where he constantly craves sex but when he gets in the mood he can be very needy.

Z - ZZZ… how long does it take to fall asleep after the deed is done?

If he’s been thoroughly fucked beyond his limit, he will pass out almost immediately after (after cuddling up beside you and making sure you’re comfortable)

Feel free to ask for different characters to write these for! (but maybe limit it to 4 or 5 letters…)

#spider man across the spider verse #the spot #the spot x reader #i want him inside me #or i want to be inside him #me when #when he #when #portal cock

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it-was-too-cold-always · 5 months

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We're Not in CW Anymore - 1

The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: language, violence

Chapter 1: The Good News Gabriel Brings

One minute, you were reading your very spicy romance book on your couch. The next, you were sitting in some diner off the highway, book still in hand. You looked around, wondering if anyone noticed you appear out of thin air. Not a single person was looking towards you. Okay, this must be a dream, I dozed off while reading, you thought. If I'm right, I won't be able to read words. You opened up to a random part in the book, and sure enough, you could read every single smutty word on that page. Fuck. What just happened?

"More coffee, sweetie?" The waitress pulled you from your downward spiral. You accepted, though you'd rather be drinking something a little stronger. You took a sip, letting the warmth fill you up. You looked down - you were no longer wearing your oversized sleep shirt. Instead, you were wearing skinny jeans, brown boots, and a gray tank top with a blue flannel layered on top. Very autumn lumberjack, you thought. It was much more appropriate than your sleep shirt though, given the dreary weather outside. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, surprised to find a signal. You were more surprised that you had your phone at all, and even more perplexed when you saw your purse sitting on the booth next to you. You peeked inside - thank god, your inhaler. You're gonna need that because the panic will surely set in soon. You scroll through your phone and find your messages are all gone. There's no logs of calls or contacts. Everything has been wiped. Great. You pull up the news to see if you can get your bearings a little. You weren't quite sure what else to do - after all, you've never teleported before.

You were too focused on your phone to notice a 1967 Chevy Impala pull up to the diner. Nor did you notice the two gigantic men walk through the front door as the bell jingled. But one of these men clocked you almost immediately. His face turned pale and he stopped in his tracks. "Holy shit," he breathed. The taller one looked at him like he was nuts, but before he could say anything else, the shorter (but still really tall) one found himself walking towards you. "Dude, what the hell?" His buddy was following him to your booth.

"Hey. Hi. Um, can I sit here?" Real smooth, dipshit, he thought to himself. You looked up at the man speaking to you, not really registering what he said. This man was a spitting image of Jensen Ackles. In fact, they could be twins. However the man standing in front of you had his flannel sleeves rolled up enough for you to see a tattoo sleeve and a myriad of scars peppering his skin. The man who appeared behind this man looked exactly like Jared Padalecki. "Am I being punked?" you asked. The two men look at each other and sit down in your booth, facing you. They look intrigued, waiting for you to keep talking.

"I wouldn't really say 'punked,' but I really had some fun with this one." A dude appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to you, looking like Richard Speight, Jr. Okay, what the actual fuck.

"Gabriel? What the fuck are you doing here?" the guy who looked like Jared asked. Okay, we got Sam, Dean, Gabriel...what's next? Cas? You look out the window to see the Impala and your stomach flips.

"Listen, I don't have a lot of time for you bozos, so pay attention and don't interrupt. Y/N, this is Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean, this is Y/N. Yes, like the show Supernatural, I know, whoop-de-do, let's get to the juicy parts, alright?" Gabriel looks almost irritated with his little speech.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam's patience was wearing thin already.

"What did I say about interrupting? You're a bad listener. As I was saying, Y/N comes from another universe. Dean, I'm sure you're quite familiar. Y/N, you get the gist of it, but it's not exactly like the CW show. This is more real-life, nitty gritty, not at all rated PG-13. There's a lot of shit from the show that didn't happen in this universe. The writing really went to shit after Kripke left, but that's just my opinion. I digress. Y/N and Dean are soulmates, don't ask me how they ended up in different universes, I'm just here to fix it. So boom, problem solved, have fun figuring all this shit out." Gabriel acted bored but seemed to be amused by this situation.

Your head was spinning. Supernatural. Real life. Alternate universe. Soulmates? You stared down your coffee cup as you tried to wrap your head around the situation. It was hard when the entire time, you could feel Dean staring at you. He hasn't taken his eyes off you since he walked into the diner. You thought they were attractive on the show, but in real like they're so gorgeous, it's intimidating.

"Why would you do Dean a favor like that? What do you get out of it?" Sam asked. "Nothing from you ever comes out of the kindness of your heart."

"Listen bud, I just know what's gotta happen and I do it. Any other questions?"

"Hold on! You said parts of the TV show didn't happen in this universe. Which parts?" You had to know - Rowena, Crowley, Chuck, Leviathan - was all of this real now?

"Just the dumb parts. All of season 7 basically. That weird attachment Dean had with the Darkness even though she was a kid for a while, creepy if you ask me. The whole Darkness thing never happened, don't know if it will in the future though. The Men of Letters are alive and thriving, Sam and Dean actually work for them as hunters. I don't know kid I'm sure you'll figure it all out." His answer placated you for now. It was still too much for your brain to process. You're sure you'll have lots of questions come up as the day progresses. You turn to thank him, but he's already gone. That leaves you alone in a booth with Sam and Dean Winchester.

Chapter 2

#dean winchester #supernatural #dean x reader #sam and dean #team free will #spn

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 1 year

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Heaven Itself | Wanda Maximoff

Summary: The soft, smutty, and sweet Stripper MILF Wanda brain rot everyone asked for. Enjoy!

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (minors DNI), language, age gap relationship

Word Count: 1.4K

Masterlist

Babe, aren’t you supposed to be leaving soon?” you asked Wanda as she sat wrapped in her towel on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah,” she shrugged.

“Everything okay?” You frowned at her admission. While she wasn’t totally in love with her job, for the most part she enjoyed going to the club. It was a break from the tribulations of having to actually make house calls. You noticed a bit of an extra pep in her step on those days. She enjoyed working with the girls as opposed to being on her own. The back room banter, gossip sessions, and mid-shift griping made it feel like she had a normal job. So you were surprised to see your girlfriend so out of sorts when it came to work.

“I don’t know if I want to do this anymore, Y/N.” She rested her head on your shoulder as you sat down next to her, the bed groaning under the added weight. You sighed as you leaned down to kiss the top of her head. Her long red locks had recently been exchanged for cropped blonde ones. It was her version of a midlife crisis. The momentary panic you felt upon seeing it for the first time was abated the instant you realized it was still long enough to pull.

“Okay…did something happen?”

“No. I just don’t want to anymore.” She gave a small sniffle as she wrapped her arms around your torso and flopped the both of you onto the quilted comforter.

“Wanda, you can talk to me. If you want to stop doing this, that's okay. But if something happened at work I need to know about it. That way I can make sure I stop at the gardening store to pick up a tarp for the body.”

“My knight in shining armor,” Wanda teased, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Anything for you, m’lady,” you cheekily responded as you trailed a hand up under her towel. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“I’m too old for this, Y/N,” she sighed. “I’ll be 40 next week and…I don’t know, all the new girls are half my age. Yelena is only 22, Carol’s 28, and I’m the grim reaper. I’d kill to look like them. I look in the mirror and see the start of wrinkles and all those stretch marks and that damn scar. I’m practically over the hill as it is. Honestly I wonder why you’re with me when you look the way you do and could easily land a girl like them.”

“Mmmm I think the voice in your head and I need to have a talk, because I don’t see any of that when I look at you.” By now you’d rolled over on your side and we’re looking down at Wanda. Your fingers traced lazily over her cheek and up into her hair.

“And what do you see what you look at me?” she asked, gazing up at you with her entrancing green eyes while the corners of her lips slightly curved upward.

“A goddess. Your body was hand sculpted by the divine, a gift from the angels for me to worship. There’s no one else in the world as beautiful as you. I don’t see imperfections when I look at you, Wanda. I see Heaven itself.” Every word of your last sentence was alternated with chaste kisses planted on Wanda’s lips.

“You’re ridiculous,” she scoffed. The spreading blush on her face told another story. While she loved you deeply, she was still quite insecure about dating a younger man. Body image issues plagued her on a regular basis and it took all of your love and reassurance to remind her that you thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world and worthy of your love.

“And you’re ravishing, my love,” you whispered as you kissed her once more. Warmth flooded your core as you felt her smile into your lips. You rolled on top of her, straddling her as she wrapped her hands around your neck. Wanda moaned into your mouth at the sudden intrusion of your tongue. The touch of it against her own sent shockwaves through both of your bodies.

“Looks like I’ll be a little late tonight,” she breathed as you paused momentarily to unwrap her towel, letting the ends fall to either side of her ethereal body.

“Yeah well they can deal with it.” Quick hands made work of your jeans as Wanda’s hands reached down your boxers. “Fuck,” you moaned as she began massaging your hardening cock.

“You know, you never fail to make me feel 25 again, sweetheart,” she chuckled as she placed her feet on the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wider to give you full access to her arousal. You grinned as you wiggled your pants down your legs, lining your now pulsating erection with her entrance. Both of you let out a simultaneous groan as you entered her with ease.

As you began to thrust into her, you let your body collapse down on top of hers. She wrapped her arms around your back, rolling her hips in time with your thrusts. In this position you were able to rest your head right next to hers and whisper sweet words of affirmation in her ear.

“You’re so beautiful, Wanda. You’re so beautiful when you let me fuck that sweet pussy of yours. I love watching you fall apart while I’m inside you. You’re too good for me, baby girl.”

Wanda whimpered as you continued to shower her with praises. Wet velvety walls squeezed you with every thrust. The combination of your sweet nothings and your cock angled perfectly against her sensitive spot was drawing her closer to ecstasy.

“That’s it, Wanda. You’re doing so well. You’re taking my cock so well. God that pussy of yours is absolutely perfect. I’ll never get tired of how good you make me feel. You’re the only one I want, the only one who makes me feel like this.” You smiled as you watched the older woman’s insecurities melt away while you treated her like she was the single most important person on the planet.

“I’m close, hon,” she mewed as she balled her hands into fists on the back of your t-shirt.

“Be a good girl and let go for me, Wanda.” Your words were the last push she needed to be driven over the edge. Wanda threw her head back into the pillow, groaning loudly as her orgasm washed over her. Her walls spasmed around you, drawing out your own orgasm. You bit down on her neck as you came inside her.

“Oh wow,” Wanda gasped. “Baby, that was so good.” You groaned in agreement as svelte fingers traced their way up your back and twisted themselves in your hair.

“Yeah it was, wasn’t it?” you joked, kissing the tender spot you just bit. “Feel better?”

Wanda nodded. Her eyes were glazed over, staring in your general vicinity as absolute bliss overtook her body. Her fingers tousled your hair absentmindedly in her hazy state. A small whimper escaped her lips as you pulled out of her, your cum dripping out of her glistening cunt.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, Wanda Maximoff. Don’t you ever forget it. I don’t care how old you are, you’ll always be beautiful to me,” you whispered mere inches from her face. She blushed a deep red at your compliment. It was sweet and sappy, but it was true: Wanda was the only woman for you. Everything about her was beautiful in every way imaginable.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” she wondered aloud.

“I could say the same thing,” you chuckled. “I’m a lucky man.”

Wanda smiled as she pushed on your chest. “As much as I want to continue this, mister, I’ve got to get to work.” You groaned as you rolled off of her, not wanting to leave the warmth of her embrace. “But I think we should definitely continue this when I get back.”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“Good,” she replied in a sultry tone, tracing her finger around your jaw. “Because I have some ideas.”

“Like?”

“You’re just gonna have to wait and see, lover boy.” You knew that devilish look in her eye. Wanda had something up her sleeve and you couldn’t wait.

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff fic #scarlet witch fic #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x male reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch x male reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x y/n #self reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #therealdisneyfan2319

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astermath · 11 months

Text

she was a skater girl ♬☆

pairing: ethan landry x skater!fem!reader

summary: ethan always watches you skate past him across campus. he finally asks you to try and teach him some tricks, and the two of you share a heartfelt moment together as you watch him struggle.

word count: 1.7K

warnings: mentions of scars and an injury

you can read my other ethan fic “close call” here!!

notes: call me a poser all u want but I’ve never been on a skateboard before. I have however, dated a skater, which I think makes me knowledgeable enough to write this. just some fluff-ish writing, I’m writing a bit of a smutty fic for ethan too so stay tuned for that ʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔ comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related content!

Ethan had his hands in his pockets as he made his way across campus, the sunlight making him squint a little to see properly. It was a beautiful day, the weather had been treating the residents of New York surprisingly well these past few days. He made use of that by taking the long way around to class.

Yeah, that was the reason.

Totally not because he was hoping to catch a glimpse of the cool girl he’d sometimes see skating across campus. Not at all.

He still remembers the first time he saw you. It was one of the first econ classes of the year, and his ears picked up the faint sound of wheels rolling over concrete behind him. He didn’t think much of it at first, but a voice calling out “watch your left!” properly caught his attention. He turned his head slightly, and was soon passed by you just nearly missing him as you zoomed by at a speed most would call dangerous.

The scent of your perfume caught his nose, and it genuinely had not left his mind ever since. He’d stared at you as you rode up to the building’s entrance and hopped off the board, catching it with ease. He thought about it so often, the way you seemed to so effortlessly glide along the concrete, your stylish clothes, your voice. Love at first sight might have been pushing it, but a crush? Without a doubt.

He’d watch you during the boring parts of lectures, noticing you drumming your fingers against your desk. Upon further inspection, also noticing you always had at least one airpod in. It made him wonder what kind of music someone like you would be into, probably something cool and indie he’d never heard of.

In reality, the soundtrack of the Shrek movie game blasted through your left ear. Maybe a tad less sophisticated than he was expecting, but a banger nonetheless.

His heart nearly skipped a beat when his eyes caught the familiar sight of you skating past the fountain. Instead of going further, you circled around it once, before doing a trick off the side of it. Ethan’s eyes widened and he refrained from applauding to make himself known, but man did he think that was cool. In reality, it wasn’t that hard, at least not to you. You’d been doing this for years, and you had the scars to prove it.

You both went to class like usual, him sneaking fleeting glances at you. You looked so pretty, lost in thought. Though he doubted those thoughts were about class, you tended to busy yourself with basically anything besides paying attention. He swore he’d seen you watch the Bee Movie during a lecture before...

You quickly rose to your legs after the lecture was announced to be over, grabbing your board by the edge and getting ready to head out, swinging your backpack over your shoulder. You went on your merry way to your favorite spot near the campus, a small abandoned skatepark, head nodding along with the beat of your music. You smoothly manoeuvred across campus and through a couple of streets, hopping off when you finally reached it. No one else was there, and honestly, you preferred it that way. There was no one in the way when you practiced, it was your secret little safe haven.

“H-Hey!” A semi-familiar voice called out behind you, seemingly slightly out of breath.

Great, up until now, it was your secret little safe haven.

You turned around, a confused expression plastered across your face when you made eye contact with Ethan. You remembered him, the boy from econ class who would sometimes stare at you during lectures. You were certain he didn’t know you knew, but honestly, it’s not like you minded.

“...Yeah?” You pulled off your headphones, letting them hang around your neck.

“I’m uh, I’m... I’m Ethan.” He struggled getting his words out, still catching his breath. Okay, so maybe he ran after you to see where you went, because he really wanted to ask you something. And maybe you didn’t hear him over your music before. So maybe...

“Did you follow me?” You questioned, stepping closer and taking your board under your arm.

Maybe he followed you. Ethan’s face grew flushed at the question, though in reality, that’s kind of exactly what he did. “N-No!” He put up his hands, trying really hard not to make himself sound like a creep. “Well... Yeah, but... I tried to ask you something, and you didn’t hear me, and I never get a chance to talk to you, so...”

“So you followed me.” You became slightly amused at him struggling to explain himself, suppressing a chuckle to spare him from further embarrassment.

“No I swear I--” He caught the slight smirk on your face, realizing you weren’t mad. “I’m sorry, I just...” He gestured to your skateboard. “I always see you skating by, and I think it’s so cool, and I would kill to know how to do that.” He gathered his thoughts and put his hands together. “Would you be so kind as to forgive me for following you, and please teach me some tricks?”

You looked him up and down, bringing up a hand to rest at the back of your neck, scratching slightly at the skin there. “Ah, fuck it.” You chuckled slightly, and his heart warmed at the sound. Your voice was so pretty, there was something so special about it. You held out a hand, and Ethan reached out to shake it as you introduced yourself. He already knew your name, but in fear of sounding like even more of a creep, he kept that to himself.

“Come on,” You gestured for him to come closer, setting down the board and hopping on it. You showed him the basics of a good stance, and his eyes watched your beat up sneakers balance on the wood as you explained yourself. “Got it?”

His head snapped up and he looked into your eyes. “Y-Yeah! Totally!”

You laughed softly, getting off the board. “You didn’t hear shit of what I said, did you?” You took a step back. “Get on, show me how you think you should do it, and we’ll adjust from there.”

“Okay, yeah... I can do that.” He carefully put a single foot onto the deck, and it instantly moved to the side, almost making him fall to the ground.

You reached out and he grabbed onto your arms, yelping when he nearly lost his balance. He put a second foot on, and his hands slid down to meet yours, gripping tightly out of fear for nearly eating concrete again.

“You got it, see? You’re standing!” You tried to be cool about holding his hands, but inside your mind, thoughts of all kinds were running rampant. Ethan was cute, really cute, and here he was, putting his faith in your hands. Literally.

“Yeah... Yeah! I am!” He got a bit too confident and shifted his weight, to which the board responded by moving again. You both got startled and you readjusted your grip on him, before you caught each other’s eyes again. Laughter broke from the both of you, unabashed giggles erupting as you both realized just how silly this was. This whole situation was pretty humorous, but watching him stand on the board like Bambi on ice was something else.

“Okay, okay...” You swallowed, catching your breath after your laughing fit. “I promise I’m not laughing at you, this is just... You’re kinda shit at this.” You giggled again.

He would have been offended if he didn’t know it was true. “I know, shit, I’m surprised I’m still standing.”

“You and me both. Alright, let’s move.” You gently started walking to the side, hands not letting go. The wheels rolled along the hard concrete as he followed along your side, eyes fixated more on you than the board. “There we go!”

He chuckled out of pure surprise that he was still on the deck, and partly to cover up the awkwardness he felt about you having to explain things so simply for him. He looked down at the board, imagining if he was doing it all on his own.

He was so good at imagining it, that he hadn’t even noticed you’d already let go of his hands, and he was now balancing himself as the board moved. It was only when it halted a bit after that he realized he was doing it by himself. He giggled adorably, arms raising up in a victory pose. You gave him a thumbs up in response, standing a few meters away from him now.

His confidence got the best of him as he gently put his foot down to push himself to your direction, forgetting everything he’d just learned and losing his balance right in front of you. He took you down with him as you both tumbled to the ground, limbs entangling when he landed on top of you.

“S-Shit! Ah, I’m so sorry! Oh my god, are you okay--” He spoke in a panicked tone, before he looked up at your face. You were grinning, clearly suppressing laughter. He let out a nervous chuckle, and that resulted in you bursting out in giggles once more. The two of you shared a good minute of pure, wholesome laughter, not even realizing you were so close together. Nothing else really mattered in that moment, all you could do was laugh.

“Aw, man...” You wiped away a tear from laughing so hard. “Kinda glad you followed me now, Landry. Haven’t had this much fun in ages.” Your heart fluttered at your own words. You couldn’t believe you were being so sappy, but you were genuinely having a blast, even if it involved falling horribly. You looked down at your knee and noticed a scrape, hissing slightly through your teeth when you reached your hand out to touch it. “Shit, uh... Do you have a band-aid?”

He looked at the wound and then back at your face. “I, uh... I have some back at my dorm.”

You smiled, a bit of a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Alright, lead the way.”

tag list <3 let me know if you’d like to be added!

@kometqh

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dabislittlemouse · 1 year

Note

Hello there! I saw your recent post about your requests being open, and I hope I'm not trespassing any boundaries here, but would you be open to writing a smutty oneshot about Dabi with his aged up female s/o on her period, and she just doesn't feel good about her body, but she's so freaking HORNY, so he shows her how beautiful she is???

I really hope I'm not crossing any lines with this one; your rules never mentioned blood, but I hope I'm being respectful to you when I write this request!

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏

˚✩彡warnings: dabi x reader smut, periods, oral fem receiving, MDNI +18

˚✩彡word count: 2.5k

˚✩彡tags: @syrenkitsune @shotos-rose @shadowsandshapes @mossy-opal @simpforthemall @ohnoitsthatonekid @sukunas-bitxh @mysideeffectsofyou

˚✩彡 A/N: Thanks for the request anon, don’t worry, this one is totally okay. I made sure to update my rules too cause sometimes I forget to add stuff, blood is fine!

Reblogs would be appreciated!

“Baby..”

The sound of his soft low voice had your eyes fluttering open in instant, a small smile formed on your lips as you were met with his handsome face.

“Dabi.. you’re back..” you mumbled sleepily, yawning a little and stretching your arms. You looked down inside your mattress, there was the plushie that you kept hugging for comfort the whole time as the cramps were tearing you apart this day. You’d been in and out of sleep as exhaustion took over your body, not having the will to move at all or do anything. Dabi had been on a mission these two days, and for your bad luck that’s when your period decided to show up. Usually Dabi would always stick by your side, warming up his hands under your lower belly to make you feel relaxed, and his absence made those two days feel like a hellish eternity.

He placed a kiss on your forehead, gently caressing your hair as you stood up.

“God I look like shit.. sorry” you laughed nervously, fixing your messy hair and pajamas. Mood swings had been pretty intense these days, especially your self esteem getting lower, you couldn’t look at your face or body in the mirror at all. And you definitely didn’t want Dabi to look at you today, you just didn’t feel pretty enough for him.

“Doll..” he said, one large hand coming to grab your chin, fingers squeezing both of your puffy cheeks together. His hand was big enough to cover your whole face with it if he wanted. The other hand was wrapped around your waist, placing itself in your lower belly as he activated his quirk, carefully heating up his hand in a bearable level for you to feel good. You relaxed immediately in his touch, a satisfied sigh escaping your lips. He rested his face at the crook of your neck, nibbling your earlobe and you giggled at the ticklish feeling.

“Will you.. let go-” you mumbled, your cheeks still being squished by his scarred hand. Dabi simply turned your face towards his, placing a kiss on your pursed lips.

“M’gonna let go only when you accept the fact that you’re.. mmh-” he kissed you again, more deeply this time to the point it had you squirm. “-that you’re beautiful..”

“I can’t accept something that I don’t really feel.. especially today” you pouted, burying your face on his chest as you clinged to him like a koala, your hands digging on his coat as you found comfort on your man. His smell was intoxicating, his warmth had you so relaxed and sleepy all over again.

“If you don’t feel it..” he whispered, turning around and laying you down on your back. “.. then I’ll make you feel it”

It didn’t take long for you to understand what he meant by that, your thighs squeezed together at the thought of it. Dabi smirked, a hand sneaked up your inner thigh, rubbing and squeezing it gently.

“Ngh- fuck.. so soft” he gritted his teeth, the plush of your thighs driving him crazy already. “So fucking.. sweet” without a warning he went down between your thighs, taking a small bite as you squeaked in surprise. For some reason his touch felt more intense, his breath hotter against your inner thighs and you felt more sensitive. Cramps were still stabbing you like knives, but the arousal you felt was also getting stronger with each kiss and bite on your thighs.

“Look at that.. you tellin’ me those thighs of yours aren’t beautiful?” Dabi murmured, digging his nails on them as his lips were leaving a trail of kisses dangerously close to your aching clothed cunt. He was teasing. Then he proceeded to go up, placing kisses on the softness of your belly, chuckling at the way you were squirming as he kissed you so slowly and playfully to tickle you more.

“You tellin’ me this tummy of yours isn’t the cutest thing in the world?” he said, nibbling softly and leaving a small mark on your tummy. His hand sneaked up from your thighs to your tits. With the other hand he removed the shirt off you, mesmerized at the sight of your sore tits looking straight up at him. He placed a soft kiss on your nipples, making you shiver underneath him as he smiled. If you weren’t in such vulnerable state both physically and mentally, he’d be savoring and eating you alive like a starved animal, biting and grabbing you everywhere as he roughly slammed his cock deep inside of you, but he was holding back. He wanted to love on you today, and wanted you to feel that love too.

“Every part of you is so fucking perfect, doll..”

You closed your eyes, turning your face away in embarrassment at his compliments, Dabi wasn’t one to always shower you with sweet words, but he made it up with his actions. Whenever he did though, you’d end up a puddle on the floor because you just couldn’t handle this much affection.

“Hey.. look at me- there you go, my pretty princess..” he smiled as he turned your face to him again, enjoying the soft blush on your cheeks. “Damn, aren’t you adorable?”

“Dabii stop!” you giggled, the sound of it which he loved so much, your laugh was the sweetest melody to his ears.

“Stop what? Telling facts? M’sorry baby but I can’t stop, y’know I’m a man of the truth..” he smirked, bopping your nose playfully as he gave you a deep kiss, his tongue sliding easily in your mouth and intertwining with yours. You moaned softly in his mouth, melting on his passionate kisses, closing your eyes and just feeling nothing but him. This was the only feeling you wanted to be drowned in, your body grinded in his, legs wrapping around his waist and you clinged to him as if he’d run away any time.

“Is my princess needy?” he groaned between kisses, his hardened crotch pressing against your clothed cunt.

“Y-yes.. Dabi..” you moaned softly, a few tears forming in your eyes as you hugged him tight, kissing him deeper and eagerly. Maybe it was another emotional breakdown hitting soon, due to the fact that you’d been alone without your man by your side. Whether it was a good thing or not, you were addicted to him, you couldn’t stay a minute without him. “Dabi please.. I need you”

“I know y’do- oh fuck..” As soon as he noticed your tears, he immediately kissed them, licking them off and rubbing your wet cheeks with his thumb. “Shhh it’s alright, I’m here love, you really missed me that much, didn’t ya?” he said with the softest voice he’s ever had, with such tenderness in his eyes. “M’gonna make you feel good, sweet thing..you trust me don’t you?”

“I do.. please make me feel good, need you s’bad.. ” you sniffed, already embarrassed for acting like a crybaby in front of him.

“M’gonna need those tears to roll down your cheeks only from the pleasure, nothing else” he reassured before slowly removing the pajamas off you, along with your panties. For a second you felt hesitant, you realized what he’s about to do the moment he rested himself between your legs.

“Dabi, you.. you don’t mind the blood? I mean-” you gulped down nervously, slightly squeezing your thighs shut and suddenly feeling insecure all over again. Dabi simply chuckled, spreading your legs open again as he groaned at your scent.

“Shit, I have a whole meal in front of me and y’think I’d mind the blood? Think again, babe..” he smacked your thigh playfully as you giggled again, taking in a deep breath.

“Only a fool would refuse this..” Dabi murmured, placing a soft kiss on your clit as your hips jerked upwards.

“Can’t get enough of this..” he buried his face in your cunt, only his dark fluffy hair visible between your thighs as he gave a slow lick up and down your slit. “Can’t get enough of you..”

“F-fuck..” you whimpered, his stitched tongue felt warmer against your bare cunt, everything felt way more sensitive than the other normal days. After a few teasing licks, Dabi placed his mouth against your now drenched pussy, groaning softly as his hands grabbed both of your thighs. Your head flew back and your hips stuttered as they moved upwards to grind on his mouth. Dabi’s chuckle vibrated in the best way possible, sending shocks of electricity on your body. He made love to your pussy like a starved man, kissing it passionately, licking and sucking your clit it all over, making a mess of drool and blood as it leaked down his chin, his tongue flicking inside of your gummy walls and driving you crazy.

“Fuck yeah- nghh- give it to me… baby, shoo good- mmmh fuck, your flavor~” he moaned, eyes rolling at the back of his skull as he tasted you like you were the best meal in the world.

“F-feels.. so good.. love it..more please!” you begged, gasping for air as he took it out of your lungs with each movement of his tongue against your sensitive folds.

“Mmmhph~Wrap those pretty legs around my head..and squeeze” he said, looking up at you with half lidded eyes, totally drunk in your flavor. You did as he said, squeezing his head between your soft thighs as he moaned in pleasure.

“Harder.” he ordered, and you squeezed even more, locking his head between your legs as he dived in your sloppy cunt againt. This man wanted to be suffocated in your flavor.

“Mmhm thats it.. my perfect girl”

You felt yourself getting close, your hand found his dark spikes, pulling them slightly as he groaned in response, always loving the feeling of your hand on his hair.

Though he wasn’t done, with a loud pop he backed away from your cunt, leaving you there edged and frustrated. You’d forgotten about the pain of cramps, as the need to cum was stronger.

Dabi sat down on the bed next to you, implying for you to get up instead as you looked at him confused.

“Come sit on my face, princess..” Dabi whispered, wiping his mouth with the palm of his hand and grabbing you by the hips afterwards. You froze there, face flushed, it’s not the first time he’s eaten you out but you never sat on his face, this was all new and made you feel more flustered .

“W-What?” You laughed nervously. “Dabi..I’m not- I can’t just sit on it.. I mean-”

“What are you scared of?” his strong hands pulled your body closer now. “Be my good girl and do as I say, you wanted to feel good didn’t ya?”

“Yes..” you breathed out, preparing to actually sit on his face. His dazed eyes were glued on you the whole time, a soft smirk appearing on his face as he excitedly waited to have you sat on him. It’s been a thought he wanted to put into action for a while, and now was the time. His arms wrapped around both of your thighs, sitting you down on his face as the both of you moaned in pleasure. He kept pressing you more against his face, while you resisted to not put the whole body weight down on him, afraid you'd suffocate him. Noticing that, Dabi growled in response, sending shivers down your spine.

“Dabi.. I can’t-”

“Fucking sit on it..” he squeezed your thighs, before slapping them and warming his hands up as a “threat”. You didn’t feel threatened though, this aroused you even more and you did as you were told. Your head flew back as this new position was even more intense and pleasurable, his tongue eagerly lapped all the juices and blood, sucking and savoring you. His painfully hardened crotch made itself visible, but this moment was for you only. He enjoyed eating you out more than anything, the thought of you getting pleasure was enough to make him cum in his pants. You started moving your hips slowly, back and forth, now all the insecurities and embarrassment left behind as you were lost in pleasure.

“That’s it..mmhh grind on my face baby.. grind on it.. that’s a good girl~” he groaned, the slurping sounds and your moans getting louder, filthier, it just felt so fucking good. His hands gripped your hips, helping you move them more against his face, then he proceeded to sneak one hand in his pants, palming himself from there. His half lidded eyes looked up at you, the sight of your beautiful face and your eyes crossed in pleasure, your perky tits sitting all pretty above him, he couldn’t help but squeeze one of them on his hand, pinching your nipple slightly as you let out a whine. The knot on your stomach was forming again, you were too close and he noticed the way your hips stuttered and tried to move faster against his face.

“Gonna cum, huh?” he chuckled, one hand gripping your thigh tightly while the other was pumping his cock, he was about to cum soon.

“Cum for me, doll.. fuck, cum all over my face, go on, make a mess with this perfect pussy..” he encouraged you, already impatient and hungry for more. “Go on baby, that’s it-”

You squeezed his head hard between your legs the moment orgasm crashed over you, placing your hands on the bed while you grinded harder against him and your body trembled in pleasure. The moan you let out was almost pornographic, music to his hears as he squeezed his cock harder and came all over his hand as well. You leaned yourself against the headboard, completely fucked out and trying to catch your breath while Dabi cleaned you with his tongue and slurped the remaining juices and blood. Gently he sat you down on the bed, chuckling at the dumbfounded look on your face.

“Shit.. you alive there babe?”

“I guess so..” you mumbled while catching your breath, a weak smile forming in your face. Magically the cramps had disappeared, this man’s tongue was the perfect painkiller, sending you straight to heaven. “This was.. amazing” you whispered. “Thank you..”

“No need to thank me” he squeezed your cheeks together, playing with your lower lip. “You deserve it for being so perfect, y’know..”

His other hand came to your face, his seed sticking on his fingers, as you eagerly went to suck them off and clean them up. He let out a sigh, feeling himself getting hard at the lust on your face while tasing his flavor.

“We’re so filthy..” you said shyly as he kissed your forehead. “I love it”

“Course you do..little horny freak” he teased, watching your hand sneaking into his pants. He couldn’t resist the innocent look on your doey eyes as you stared up at him.

“I wanna savor you too..please Dabi” you said seductively, as you felt him getting hard on your hand again.

“Shit.. go on then, baby” he grabbed your face, kissing you deeply.

“Show me how you please your man.”

To be continued..

The continuation is the latest request I got, called “Peppers” inspired by Lana Del Rey’s song, where you’ll return the favor back to him

#B.writes #dabi #minors do not interact #touya todoroki #dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #dabi x female reader #touya todoroki x reader #toya todoroki x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha fic #bnha fanfic idea #mha fanfiction #mha dabi

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iamasaddie · 3 months

Text

cracks

paring: Clint x f!reader warnings: no smut (sorry), ER; age gap (not specified), insecurities regarding aging word count: 700~ a/n: gonna be honest with you I mostly wrote it for me, but I'll be happy if you enjoy it too <3 i have an idea for another blurb (smutty) from this “universe” that i might post tonight or tomorrow masterlist

You knew he didn’t like looking in the mirror. Didn’t enjoy seeing his reflection on any surface, especially when you were near him. You had to beg him for a picture of you together, and if you wanted to capture just him you had to be sneaky enough so he wouldn’t notice.

You knew it was lines on his forehead, the scar beneath his left eye, the multiplying grays in his beard that he couldn’t stand. Everything that reminded him of how old he was, how deep the canyon of experience between you was. Every little thing you loved him for made him scowl and furrowed his brows.

It pained you, but you made sure to remind him how handsome he was, how safe and loved you felt in his big dry palms. He grunted in response. You would’ve been scared that he’d eventually leave you when his demons would win, but you knew the feelings you had for each other were too strong, an uncontrollable tide breaking every rational and irrational thought on its way.

He fell asleep with his head in your lap while you were watching one of the old westerns he loved so much. His soft hair tickling the naked skin of your thighs, his brows knitted together even as he was lightly snoring, indicating the depth of his dream. Your fingers raked through the soft curls and when the credits started rolling you realized that you have been looking at Clint for the last fifteen minutes, completely ignoring the climax of the story.

The man in your arms was a more interesting one anyway.

Your index finger lightly traced his face. You marveled at each crease and mark, mapping the years of laughter and hardship etched into his features. You felt valleys of his laugh lines hiding into the coarse beard that covered the lower half of his face in an uneven pattern you loved so much. With the softest press of your fingertip you grazed over the plumpness of his lips, and you smiled to yourself at the softness of the skin. Rough man that he was, Clint was kissing your chapstick covered lips often enough for it to take care of his own.

Gently, you scratched the almost white patch on the side of his face, the most prominent one he had. Sometimes when he noticed you staring at him - for no other reason but being completely and utterly in love with him - he would turn his head as if he wanted to hide the colorless spot.

Tears burned the edges of your eyes and you blinked them away before they could wet your cheeks. The love you felt for the man who was snoring peacefully almost tore you apart. You wished that he could genuinely believe in your affection. That you cherished the cracks and imperfections that made Clint real to you, the unique mosaic of a man who was only solvable to you, remaining a dark riddle for the rest of the world.

He stirred at your touch, his lips curving into a faint smile. His eyes fluttered open.

“What are you doing?” His voice was raspy with sleep, one eye squinting as the other focused on the outline of your form.

“Counting the reasons why I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” you whispered back, crouching to peck his lips, but missing and hitting his nose instead, making him chuckle.

“Got at least three?” His hand went up, cupping your jaw and he met your eyes. You could see the worry and uncertainty hiding behind the forced merriment of his voice. It made your heart ache, but you knew you had time to make him see through your eyes.

“Multiply it by infinity, and you’ll get my answer.” You saw the furrow of his brows disappear, like he was surprised to hear that, and you hurried to kiss him, smiling at his content moan.

check out my other fic from this universe CONTACTS (can be read as a continuation to this one)

#iamasaddie blurb #clint x f!reader #clint x reader #clint x you #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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jksprincess10 · 1 year

Note

Hey idk if ur requests are open ( if not just ignore this) I would like to request a Joel x fem!reader where we in the situation that we are in the forest and it’s just so cold that Joel try’s to help us ;) it can go in a kind of smutty way, but if you are not comfortable with that it’s totally fine :)

Thanks in advance 🌺

Thank you !! I loved writing this!

The tracker

CW: smut, unprotected sex, age difference.

They called you the tracker. No one knew your real name. Like the nickname suggested, you could track anyone down. In these hard times, it was your job, especially after leaving the fireflies. It was the only way to survive. Joel had hired you to track down his brother Tommy, an ex-firefly, which made your job easier. You had an eye on him at Jackson, Wyoming, but the road there was a tiring one.

You’d just have to find him. Joel took care of everything else.

Seasons changed under your eyes by the day. You were so close to your target. But a white coat enveloped the forests you were crossing, and it was so cold.

You stopped after a long day of walking, taking cover behind a huge rock that stopped some of the wind coming your way. You got started on a fire while Joel checked on the food you two had left. He was a silent partner, and you didn’t know much about him. He was pragmatic, quiet, and almost scary. You heard he had done bad things in the past, and maybe it showed from his bruised knuckles and numerous scars.

“Stupid fucking snow will slow us down.” He finally grunted.

You watched the flames lighting up the night, the reassuring smell of smoke filling up your lungs. You shrugged with a smile.

“Sorry you have to spend more time with me. As long as I get paid, I don’t mind how long it’ll take.”

“You will, tracker.”

With little small talk, you two ate and you went to sleep in your sleeping bag. The fresh air made it hard for you to sleep, and you were starting to shiver. You were a big talker, but you weren’t used to such harsh conditions. Joel looked at you for some time, before saying:

“Take off your clothes.”

You sat up and frowned your eyebrows at him.

“What?”

“Take off your clothes and give me some space."

“Damn, if you’re trying to fuck me, there are better ways to ask for it.”

He shot you a dirty look, but you simply smiled as you peeled off the layers.

You had thought about Joel in that way. Yes. He was physically attractive, strong, and older.

“I’m just trying to let you die of hypothermia. It’s easier to get heat with two naked bodies.”

Of course, you knew. You’d just never thought he’d… ask. Your coat, thick sweater and pants left the sleeping bag, leaving you shivering in your panties and bra. Joel approached slowly, not looking at you as he took off some of his clothes, leaving him in his boxers. You stared at him without any shame, as he wiggled himself in your small sleeping bag. He put his arms around you, your back flush against his back. He was as warm as he looked. You felt yourself blush as you felt every inch of his body. Joel could barely look at you, as his warm hands laid on your stomach.

You eventually shivered less and less.

“Well, this is fucking awkward.” You finally said. “But warm.”

“You’re welcome.”

It had been so long since you two felt the presence of anyone, the warmth of a body, the close sounds of breathing. Your bodies did manifest the normal reaction of arousal.

“I can feel your hard-on.”

“Sorry.”

“Just take me to diner before fucking me, damn.”

For the first time, you heard his breathy laugh.

“Been a while.” He apologized again.

“Same. You’re hot though, not just in the warm way.”

Did it sound cheesy? Yes? Did it work? Also, yes.

Joel’s warm hand traveled south, finding the edge of your panties, before cupping your sex. His warmth made you lose your breath for second. His digits explored your wet folds blindly, as he was holding you close. His lips traveled to your neck. There was not an ounce of softness in this man, still he tried to give some softness to you. You ass pressed against Joel’s bulge, making him groan slightly.

Two of his fingers caressed your clit, making you whimper softly. You were getting wetter by the second, and you squirmed against him, leaning your pelvis more into his touch. Joel’s movements got rougher, until you found your sweet release.

He got rid of your underwear and his, and you felt his length tease your slit. You whimpered and tried to relax as he inserted his length between your folds, until he bottomed out, his hips hitting your ass.

It was a stretch, yes, but the pain made you feel something else than the cold and the hunger. One of his hands kept your hips in place as the other one crept up your bra. You let him do anything he wanted, moving against him only when he did, with lazy thrusts. You both didn’t have much energy left from walking all day, only relying on the desperateness of your need. His name left your lips, even though it felt too intimate. He didn’t know yours, so animalistic groans replace any coherent words.

He kept thrusting slowly, but forcefully, until he found his release, more warmth spilling between your thighs.

You sighed and thanked him for warming you up, falling asleep while he was cleaning you up with a smile.

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller #writing requests #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x yn #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal smut

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willalove75 · 7 months

Text

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 19 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of the meeting Alcina is feeling guilty and you try and ease her pain.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: Some angst, some fluff

Notes: Part 19! I know things have been HELLA angsty lately but I promise the next few chapters I have planned will be fun and fluffy and perhaps even a little bit smutty😏💕 We'll be putting all of that angst to bed for a bit!

A/N: If you picked up the mildly obscure Toy Story reference, I love you hahah I'll link the reference at the end for those who missed it!

Click here for the rest of the series

Gif source

Alcina's tears slowed and eventually stopped flowing. When she felt your fingers in her hair still and heard your breaths even out she relaxed a little knowing you were asleep. She stayed there for a little longer, with her head resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you slept. The steady beat of your heart and your gentle breaths relaxed her as the guilt ate away at her.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she finally lifted her head from your chest and your fingers slid out of her ebony curls and onto the bed next to you. Removing the gauze that was on your neck wound, she winced when she looked at it again. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, only trickles of blood still flowing from it. You definitely needed stitches. The longer Alcina looked at the wound the more her hands trembled - she would never be able to stitch you up like this. She tried her best to keep her hands steady but the harder she tried, the more they trembled and the more frustrated she became.

A knock on the door pulled her attention away from her hands and your neck.

"Mother?" Bela said as she opened the door.

"Yes?"

"Aunt Donna, Angie and Uncle Heisenberg are here for you."

Alcina grumbles and brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

"Alright, I'll be there in a moment."

"Do you need help with anything?"

Alcina pulls the fresh gauze away again to confirm you're still bleeding. Sighing in defeat, she turns to her daughter.

"Can you take over and continue to apply pressure to her neck?"

"Is she okay?" Bela asks, walking closer to the bed.

"Yes, she's asleep. Please try and not wake her. I am going to freshen myself up before going downstairs."

Bela sits on the edge of the bed and holds the gauze against your neck as Alcina makes her way into the bathroom. After a few minutes Alcina comes out in a new, clean dress. Her hair is fixed and her makeup is flawless. If Bela didn't see her mother so upset herself she never would have thought that she had been crying so hard. All evidence of her breakdown has been erased.

"I shall be back in a little while with Donna. She is going to need stitches and I am going to have Donna do it while she's here. If anything changes, do not hesitate to come get me."

"Yes mother."

Alcina ducks out of the door and Bela hears her footsteps getting further and further away.

Less than five minutes later Daniela appears in the bedroom next to Bela.

"How is she?" Daniela asks with worry in her eyes.

"She's okay. She's asleep so don't wake her Dani - Dani!" Bela hisses as Daniela crawls onto the bed and lays down next to you.

"Shh! And you're worried about me waking her up!" Daniela whispers which elicits an eye roll from Bela. "How's her neck?"

Bela removes the gauze and examines it before applying pressure to it again.

"It's still bleeding a little, she's definitely going to need stitches. Mom said she's going to have Donna do it before she leaves. But it's going to leave a nasty scar."

"Do you think mom will put the healing salve on it?"

"No, she only used it last time out of desperation. Mother doesn't want to expose her to the mold unless she absolutely has to."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Where's Cass? Still in the dungeon?"

"Yeah, she's been throwing things around in there all day. I think she even took a maid who had been misbehaving down there."

"Yikes."

Daniela's eyes wander over your sleeping figure, the bandages on your chest, the dried blood caked to your skin, the wound Bela was covering. She pouts and lays her head on the pillow next to you, gently moving your hair out of your face as you slept.

Alcina makes her way downstairs into one of the sitting rooms. As soon as she ducks through the door she sees her hat floating across the floor.

"Look I'm the dragon lady!" Angie's voice screeches from underneath the hat. "Roar! I'm so big and scary! Fear me!"

"Give me that." Alcina says, swiping the hat from Angie's head.

"Ugh, you're such a buzzkill, Godzilla!"

Alcina growls at Angie who runs towards Donna and climbs into her lap. She dusts off her hat and places it on one of the tables.

"How's the kid?" Karl says.

"Alive, no thanks to you." She snaps.

"What the fuck? Why the fuck is this shit my fault?!"

"You said you would protect her! Both of you said you would protect her and you did nothing!" Alcina yells.

"We were waiting for you to fucking do something you gigantic psychopath!"

"What was I supposed to do?! If I made another move Miranda would have killed her on the spot! There was nothing I could do!"

"And you don't think that crazy bird bitch wouldn't have snapped her neck with one hand if we did anything?! Plus it's not our fault you can't fucking control yourself you bloodthirsty bitch!"

Angie cackles. "Yeah! Get her!"

They meet in the middle of the room and are toe-to-toe, glaring at each other. Angie jumps off of Donna's lap and jumps around the two of them.

"How dare you!"

"This is the last time I try and do you any fucking favors!"

"Good because you couldn't even do the one thing you said you would! You unreliable greaseball!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Angie chants.

"Listen here you fucking cun-"

"Karl, Alcina, that is enough." Donna says, standing from her seat.

"Donna do not get in my way because I am as equally as angry at you right now." Alcina hisses.

"Alcina, please. Karl, sit down!" She says, pulling him the collar and throwing him into a chair.

"Hey!" He yells.

"Be quiet." Donna snaps before turning towards Alcina. "Alcina, please. What did you want us to do? There was nothing we could have done that wouldn't have put her life at further risk. Like Karl said, Miranda could have easily snapped her neck with one hand or when she had her caught up in the vines. We were powerless."

"What about the rest of the time?! When she was fighting against those vines! I did what I could but Miranda had me restrained! The both of you just stood there doing nothing!"

"Alcina, that's not true-"

"Then what the hell were you doing?!" Alcina screams, causing Donna to flinch and begin trembling.

"Will you stop fucking screaming at her?!" Heisenberg yells, getting in between the two of them. "Your temper is just as fucking short as you are gigantic. For your fucking information, we wanted to help. The minute Miranda wrapped you up we went to step in but Miranda eyeballed the two of us and had her vines pointed right at us. If we made any moves we would have been even more useless because we would have been fucking strung up on the ceiling by our ankles."

"Alcina, we wanted to help, we tried. There was nothing we could do that wouldn't have risked her life or made the situation worse."

Alcina lets out a shout of frustration before turning around and grabbing a nearby chair and throwing it into the wall, the chair shattering into splinters on impact. Her chest is heaving and her hands are balled into fists at her side. They begin to tremble as she struggles to keep her composure and not break down in front of everyone.

She was the matriarch of the castle, the one who never showed emotion - aside from anger. It was bad enough Donna had seen her in such a state multiple times over the last few months. It was worse that Karl witnessed her acting tender towards you. It would be a cold day in hell when she lets herself cry in front of them, Karl especially.

Hot tears sting her eyes as she struggles to keep herself together. It was easier thinking they just stood there and did nothing, at least then she was able to blame someone else. But after learning that they tried, and even worse, knowing that they were right in their suspicion that Miranda would have killed you if they stepped in to help, Alcina had no one else to blame for your pain but herself.

She broke her promise to keep you safe - again.

The realization hits her like a truck. Letting out a pained cry, she throws a table against the wall, it's pieces falling amongst the rubble from the chair.

Alcina squeezes her eyes shut, wiling the tears to go away. They threaten to roll down her cheeks but she grits her teeth and pushes everything she's feeling down with all of her strength.

You begin to wake up, feeling the sensation of tiny fingers running through your hair.

"She's waking up." You hear a familiar voice say.

"Hmm?" You mumble.

Turning your head towards the sound, you let out a small whimper from the pain at your neck.

"Easy, easy, don't move your head too much." The voice says.

Opening your eyes, you're met with a small pair of golden eyes with red strands of hair falling in front of them on one side.

"Daniela?"

"Yes, micuțo, I'm here." (Little one)

"Where's Alcina?" You ask, your eyes barely able to stay open.

"Karl, Donna and Angie are here, she went to talk to them." Bela says.

"Oh, okay." Your brows furrow as you feel the pressure of the gauze against your neck. "Fuck that hurts."

"I'm sure it does. When mom gets back Donna is going to stitch you up and we'll give you something for the pain, okay?"

"Okay."

"Go back to sleep micuțo, you need to rest." Daniela says, caressing your hair.

Your eyes close and you're swept away by sleep once more.

Not long after Alcina, Donna, Angie and Karl enter the room. Alcina didn't want an audience but Karl was being as stubborn as ever and Angie of course goes wherever Donna goes.

Sitting on the edge of the bed - taking over from Bela - Alcina runs her fingers through your hair.

"Draga, draga wake up." She says, her voice as comforting as a warm breeze. "Come on, iubirea mea. You have to wake up."

Your eyes flutter open and are met with Alcina's glowing golden eyes.

"There you go. Just like that, come now, you have to wake up."

"Alcina?"

"Yes love, it's me. I'm here." She says as she strokes your cheek with the back of her fingers. "Donna and Karl are here."

"I'm here too!" Angie screams.

Alcina shoots the doll a glare and turns her attention back to you.

"You need stitches, Donna is going to administer them, alright?"

"Okay."

Alcina moves to the other side of the bed after shooing Bela and Daniela out of the room. Angie and Karl stand on the outskirts of Alcina's chambers while Donna stitches up your wound. The entire time you're being stitched up, Alcina is sitting next to you on the bed, holding your hand and caressing it with her thumb. The stitches weren't exactly painful, but the wound itself was. Every so often a rogue tear would roll down your cheek and Alcina would quickly wipe it away, shushing you and comforting you.

When Donna was finished she gave her work one more once-over before nodding at Alcina.

"Try not to move your neck too much to avoid popping any stitches." Donna says. "You can remove them in a weeks time."

"Thank you, Donna." Alcina says.

"Of course. I'm glad to see you're okay, Y/N." Donna says to you.

"Thank you."

Angie climbs up onto the bed and stands on your chest, staring at your face. It's not that Angie weighs much, but it's still uncomfortable having anything standing on your chest right now.

"Will you get off of her." Alcina says, pushing Angie off of your chest.

"Hey! Watch it!" Angie argues before shooting a glare at Alcina, who returns the look. Staring at you once more Angie tilts her head at you. "You know, I was only kidding when I called you her new blood bag! But I guess I was right all along!" She says with an ear piercing cackle.

Alcina's eyes grow wide and angry at the doll and Donna quickly scoops her up and ushers her out of the door.

"Hey! Donna! What the hell?!" She manages to yell before Donna closes the door on her. "Oh come on! I was only kidding!" Angie's muffled voice calls from the other side of the door.

Karl walks up to the edge of the bed and looks down at you.

"How're ya feelin, kid?"

"Never better."

Karl chuckles and pulls something out of his waistband. "Here, found this on the floor of the chapel. It's pretty fucked up to toss a brand new gift, especially something as perfectly hand-crafted as this, onto a dirty chapel floor." He says with a wink before handing you the dagger he gifted you earlier in the day.

"Huh, sorry. I figured since it came from you it was used to laying around in trash." You quip.

Karl bursts into laughter and pats your shoulder. "Yeah, she'll be fine." He says to Alcina.

Alcina's eyes are trained on the dagger in your hand as it lays on your chest. Her eyes glued to the dried blood caked into the Dimitrescu coat of arms engraving. Nearly the entire engraving was now the rusted color of dried blood - your blood. Her heart clenches as she relives watching Miranda drag her nail down your chest.

"Hello? Earth to Alcina?" Karl says, snapping her out of her trance. "There's no way you're bloodthirsty already. You already took half of her shit!" He says.

Alcina's eyes shoot up to Karl and they narrow at him dangerously. She lets out a low growl and Karl puts his hands up.

"Jesus, I'm just kidding. That stick up your ass must me a mile long."

"Is there anything else you need or are you going to continue to bother us like the pest you are and keep her from resting?" Alcina snaps.

"Alright, alright. No need to get your parachute-sized panties in a bunch. I'm leaving, I'm leaving. Catch ya later, kid." He says to you with a tip of his hat and leaves the room. Donna nods to the two of you and follows him out, closing the door behind them.

You carefully turn towards Alcina, trying to be mindful of the stitches in your neck and she has a far away look in her eyes.

"Hey," you say, placing your hand over hers. "What's wrong?"

Alcina snaps out it and looks down at you.

"Nothing, I am fine." She says before taking the dagger from your hand and getting up to put it away.

As she walks towards the vanity where the leg holster is, she runs her thumb over the bloodied coat of arms. She didn't even realize she stopped moving until she felt something grab at her thigh.

Looking down, she sees you standing next to her with your arms wrapped around her leg.

"Draga, you need to be in bed and rest!" She says, putting the dagger down and turning her attention to you.

"I know, but you're not okay. I can see it in your eyes. Talk to me, Alci. Please."

"Come, you have to get back in bed."

"Can I at least shower and put on clean clothes?"

Looking down at you and realizing that you're still covered in dried blood and dirty, bloody clothing. Alcina sighs in defeat and agrees.

After a quick shower and some fresh pajamas, you lay down on the new sheets Alcina had a maid put on the bed while you were cleaning yourself up - exchanging them for the bloodied sheets you were once laying on.

You wanted to talk to Alcina, to find out what was wrong. Well, you're pretty sure you knew what was wrong given everything that happened but the moment your head hit the pillow a current of sleep pulled you under.

The next few days were a blur. Alcina was constantly coming and going from her chambers, checking in on you nearly every hour. All of the physical trauma that happened to your body seemed to catch up with you. Not only were you absolutely exhausted, your neck was bruised and swollen from Miranda's hand and the vines. You realized quickly after you woke up the next morning you could barely speak, to which Alcina muttered to herself "I had a feeling this would happen." and promptly had a maid bring you hot tea and soft foods.

Each day that passed Alcina seemed to be withdrawing into herself more and more. A familiar fear began to creep into your chest. Last time she became withdrawn she broke your heart into a thousand pieces, you were worried she was heading down that path again. You so desperately wanted to talk to her but you physically couldn't. So you tried to communicate your feelings physically. Kissing her, holding her hand whenever she sat near you, cuddling into her as close as you possibly could at night. You were happy that she was reciprocating your advances but something in her eyes still made her seem so far away.

On the fifth night, your voice was finally on the mend. It was raspy as hell, but at least you were able to speak.

Alcina was laying next to you reading a book. Her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. You wiggled under her arm and cuddled into her, resting your head on her breast. She looked down at you and chuckled and adjusted her arm so you were comfortable. Wrapping your arm around her waist, your fingers drew abstract shapes across the silk of her nightgown. You couldn't help but look up at her and admire her beauty.

It was so rare for anyone to see her like this. With her hair down, no makeup, laying in just a nightgown with her reading glasses on. You could clearly see the laugh lines that adorned her perfect lips, even though their signature red rouge was absent. They still looked as full as ever. The crows feet in the corners of her eyes perfectly complimented her laugh lines. You could see every scar and stretchmark that adorned her neck, chest and face - no doubt most of them coming from the rapid growth she endured after getting the cadou. You wondered how many of them she carried over from her previous life and how many of them were new. She was effortlessly beautiful, yet something lurked in her eyes that made you believe that she never once looked at herself that way.

"You do know it's rude to stare, right, draga?" She says, her eyes not leaving her book.

"People stare at artwork all the time and that's considered a compliment." You rasped.

Alcina smirked and rolled her eyes before they landed on you. "Is there something I can do for you?" She asks, closing her book.

"Nuh-uh. I'm just looking at the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, draga mea." She says before leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"No I'm good, I'm fine. How are you?"

"Me? There's no need to worry about me." She pulls the covers off of her and moves to stand up but you hold onto her, keeping her in place.

"But I am worried about you."

"Don't. Let me up, I am going to put my book away."

You release her from your grip with a sigh and watch her as she returns her book to the bookshelf and places her glasses on the vanity.

"I can't help it. I haven't been able to talk to you for almost a week. We haven't even been able to talk about what happened."

"We will have plenty of time to discuss what happened. What's important now is that you rest your voice and continue healing."

"Alcina, please. You're pulling away again. You've been doing it all week. It's starting to worry me. Please just talk to me."

Alcina places her hands on her vanity and looks down.

"I don't know what it is you want me to say."

"Anything, say anything. Tell me how you're feeling, let me know what you're thinking, anything." Alcina stands there, unmoving and silent. "Alcina please, it scares me when you get like this. Please let me help." You try your best to keep your voice steady but it still shakes. Alcina closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I don't want to burden you, you have enough to deal with draga."

"It's not a burden, you are never a burden. I'm more worried about you than anything else right now. Please, just talk to me. You promised you would talk to me."

She hangs her head and digs her nails into her palms. After taking a minute to collect her thoughts she finally speaks. "I'm afraid, draga." She says and looks up at you through the mirror.

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of myself, afraid of losing control again. I nearly killed you. I was completely out of control." Even from this distance you can see her eyes start to gloss over.

"But you didn't."

"But I very easily could have. That side of me, it is dangerous. It is horrific and monstrous-"

"Don't say that about yourself-"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" She shouts as she turns towards you. "That side of me is nothing compared to what you've seen. It is ugly and horrifying and no one other than Mother Miranda has seen it in it's entirety. That was the first time anyone aside from my girls have even seen my wings! Those ugly, awful-"

"Alcina, they were beautiful."

"No they are not."

"They are to me."

"Nothing about that side of me is beautiful, draga. Nothing."

"Why are you so afraid of it?"

"Because I have no control over it! You saw what happened, I heard you begging and screaming to let you go and there wasn't a single thing I was able to do! It was like my mind was trapped in a body I had no control over."

Suddenly it felt like a bucket of cold water was thrown over you. You knew Alcina wasn't in control, but you thought that a different conscious took over and hers went dormant. But she heard you begging for your life. You were right, Mother Miranda wanted her to kill you. She wanted Alcina to be imprisoned as she watched you die in her arms.

"You heard me?"

"Yes. And when I'm in that state there is nothing I can do to stop myself." She wraps her arms around herself and looks down at the ground. "That's why I was so afraid when she told me to feed from you."

"Because she knows you're not in control. She wanted you to watch what you did to me but not be able to stop it."

"Precisely."

You move over and pat the empty side of the bed, silently asking Alcina to join you again. She stands there for a moment, her arms still wrapped around herself, almost as if she's afraid to get too close to you. "Come on." You say as you wave her over. Eventually she sighs and lays back down in bed. Being mindful of your stitches, you curl into her and lay your head on her shoulder.

"But you stopped. You weren't in control but you stopped." You said.

"I don't know what you did to stop me but I can never guarantee that will happen again. You were lucky. We were lucky that monster stopped."

"Alcina, please."

"I don't know what else you want me to call it, it's a monster."

"What does it look like, your full form?"

"Like a dragon of sorts."

"Of sorts?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Okay, then call it a dragon, not a monster. For me, please?"

Alcina looks into your pleading eyes and rolls hers. "I will try."

"Thank you. Do you want to know how I got you to stop?"

"Yes."

"As you were feeding from me I remembered Cassandra saying that fear makes blood taste sweeter. I realized every time I felt fearful, the bite would get worse. So I relaxed myself in your arms and stroked your cheek. I asked you to please stop, that it was enough. Just when I thought I had failed and that I was going to die, you slowed down and stopped."

"I am so sorry, draga." She says as she wipes a few tears away and kisses the top of your head.

"But the most interesting thing happened after you stopped."

"What was that?"

"Even though your eyes were completely white, you looked afraid when you looked down at me in your arms and saw what happened. Was that the dragon, or was that you?"

Alcina leans her head back for a moment to think. She closes her eyes and her brows furrow.

"I think it was both of us. I was screaming, trying to get it to stop. Then it realized what it had done and I felt it's fear."

"Do you remember what happened afterwards?"

"When that mon-" you shoot her a look and she huffs. "when that dragon takes over my memory becomes hazy, so I don't remember everything clearly."

"You nuzzled me and whimpered."

"What?"

"Yeah, you nuzzled me and I heard you let out a whimper like a sad puppy. Then Mother Miranda took a step towards us and you growled at her. She took another step forward and you stepped backwards and then you full on snarled at her."

"Did I really?" Alcina asks with a look of surprise on her face.

"Yeah. Why? What's wrong?"

"It only ever responded to Mother Miranda. She was the only one that was ever able to control it." She says with a faraway look in her eye. Shaking her head, she looks back down at you. "Sorry, please continue."

"It's okay. After that you kneeled on the ground and covered us with your wings. Your mouth went to move towards my neck and I stopped you. I wasn't sure if you were going to try and feed again but instead you nuzzled me again and started purring, like really loudly. Louder than I've ever heard before."

A faint blush dusts Alcina's cheeks and she looks away as if she's embarrassed. "I'm sorry." She mumbles.

"What? Alcina, there's absolutely nothing to apologize for, especially for that." You say as you guide her chin back towards you. "Honestly? I liked it. It made me feel safe. Even when you do it and it's a faint purr, its comforting."

"I suppose that, thing, and I are more connected than I would care to admit. We are one in a way."

"That's why I don't want you to hate it or talk badly about it. It's part of who you are, and everything about you is beautiful and worthy of love."

Alcina's breath stalls in her chest and she looks deep into your eyes with wonder. "You are truly fascinating. You never cease to amaze me, draga mea." She whispers, as if she's talking to herself.

You sit up and bring your lips to meet hers in a gentle, passionate kiss. "I love everything about you. Everything that you are, Alcina. Always." You whisper against her lips before she kisses you again.

When your lips part you rest your head in the crook of her neck and she runs her fingers through your hair.

"Did anything else happen?" She asks.

"Well when I realized you weren't going to feed again, I let you move back towards the bite mark you started licking it and cleaning it."

"That I do faintly remember. Right before I came back, correct?"

"Yeah, you placed a kiss on it and when you pulled back the white in your eyes faded back to your usual gold."

"That's right. I do remember that. That's why Mother Miranda had that incredulous look on her face. Because the mon-"

"Alcina." You interrupt.

"Sorry, I've been calling it that for nearly 60 years, it's going to take some time to break that habit." She says defensively. "Anyway, she had that look on her face because the dragon disobeyed her, it rejected her and chose you."

"Man that must have pissed her off."

"It very likely had."

"Do you think she'll leave me alone now?"

"I hope so, draga mea. Mother Miranda is a woman of her word. She promised she would leave you alone from now on."

"She said that last time."

"Technically, she said she would respect my property."

"Is that not the same thing?"

"For Mother Miranda, no. But she swore to leave you alone so I can only hope she keeps her word."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

You stifle a yawn and Alcina chuckles and kisses you on the forehead.

"Sleep, draga." She says as she slides down under the covers and wraps her arms around you. "You need rest. And you need to rest your voice. You only just got it back and I fear that the length of our conversation will set you back in your recovery."

"It would be worth it. I missed talking to you. And we needed to talk."

"That we did, iubirea mea." She says as she nuzzles into your hair. "I missed talking to you too. Now go to sleep."

Alcina kisses the shell of your ear and you fall asleep feeling her warm breath cascading over you.

Of course, the conversation the two of you had did indeed set your recovery back because you woke up without a voice again and didn't get it back for another two days.

Finally your week of recovery has gone by and Alcina was able to remove the stitches from your neck wound. She tried to hide her grimace at the scar but you saw the look on her face. Insisting on seeing it for yourself, you couldn't help but make the same face at first. Your reaction to it, even though it was involuntary, broke Alcina's heart and you could see it all over her face. You did your best to reassure her that it wasn't that bad and that it would fade some in time, but the both of you knew that it would still leave a very noticeable scar.

Feeling the guilt radiate off of her, you led her to the bed and had her lay down with you. Curling into her as tightly as possible, the two of you laid like that for hours, trying to let the aftermath of the meeting fade from your minds. The both of you still had a lot of thoughts and feelings to work out, but as you laid in each others arms, nothing else in the world mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C25l1SkYzb0

"Look I'm the dragon lady!" Angie's voice screeches from underneath the hat. "Roar! I'm so big and scary! Fear me!"

"Give me that." Alcina says, swiping the hat from Angie's head.

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