#( v; memories awaken )

[moghedien]

Minako's Sailor V era is something that can be so personal to me and also cause me so much pain

[aoitakumi8148]

𝓜𝔂 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓬𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓸𝓻 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱. 𝓜𝔂 𝓰𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓾𝓼. 𝓜𝔂 ♡ 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓰𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓯𝓯 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭... 𝓽𝓸 𝓴𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓼𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘'𝓶 𝓪𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓷 𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼 𝔁 𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓲𝔃𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮... 𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾. 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮... 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮, 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓮𝓭, 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓸 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰? 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓵, 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱 𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓯 ‘𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼’ 𝓪𝓷𝓭 ‘𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓯𝓾𝓵’. 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓻𝓮... 𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷, 𝓻𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷... 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝔂. 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 ‘𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼’ 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓾𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 ‘𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓸𝓶’ 𝓲𝓼 𝓶𝔂 𝓹𝓸𝓲𝓼𝓸𝓷... 𝓘 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰.

[murdrdocs]

mike having a wet dream next to you. (17+)

he’d drifted away in the night, just enough space between you two for you not to be able to feel him. still, you hear his sounds as clear as day.

at first, you think it’s a nightmare. the soft moans, whines bled into them to the point where they’re almost indistinguishable. you turn to face him, pout on your lips, your eyes still heavy from the slumber you’d accidentally awoken from.

for a second, you try to decide between waking him up or letting him be. but in your mind, it’s a nightmare, and you know how vivid mikes dreams can be.

you turn around, starting to lift a hand to push mikes curls back, the easiest way to wake him without startling him. but then he moans out your name, just a tiny grumble but it’s clear, every syllable meeting your ears.

and that’s when you realize it’s a wet dream instead. you don’t know if you’d been oblivious to his gyrating hips, blinded by your worries, but with your newly discovered information it’s practically all you notice. hips bucking at air, and when you lift the blanket, positioning your body to let the streetlight shine on mikes bottom half, you see a tent formed in his basketball shorts.

he stirs for a second, and you stiffen, afraid you’d awakened him with your movement. but he simply rolls to his back, groaning out your name with the movement. his arm throws above his heads the other slung across his torso, and his shirt has lifted at this point, giving you a peek at his v-line.

the sound he makes sounds pathetic, it makes you pity him, especially whenever his back arches with it. your pout deepens to a frown, thinking about how he has resorted to dreaming about you, when the real thing is right next to him. your pity only multiplies whenever he winces, a cracked “ah” slipping past his lips.

he’d talked in his sleep many times before, simple sentences that were more often than not jumbles of words that made absolutely no sense. sometimes, you tried to decipher them in the morning for fun, putting together your gathered words from the night with his disjointed memory of his dreams.

but now, his words make perfect sense. a plea, familiar to your ears but in this context that make your stomach stir.

“baby, please.”

[slut4nicholas]

𝙊𝙃 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍, 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙄 | 𝙉𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙓𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙕

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄

a/n: i'm not entirely satisfied with this, but I felt the need to share the second part. writing smut isn't my favorite thing, but it can be fun to imagine! this piece is a bit lengthy, but i hope you all enjoy it! <3

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), penetration p in v, unprotected sex!

summary: after an electrifying night filled with undeniable chemistry, she returns home, heart racing from the secrets shared. but when she awakens to an unexpected surprise, desire ignites—especially when it involves her irresistible priest.

†

𝙋𝙊𝙍 𝙌𝙐𝙀 𝙇𝙊 𝙈𝘼𝙎 𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙊 𝙎𝙄𝙀𝙈𝙋𝙍𝙀 𝙀𝙎 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙃𝙄𝘽𝙄𝘿𝙊 | as i made my way home, my thoughts spiraled into a tantalizing whirlwind of forbidden desire, all centered around charlie. every detail of him haunted my mind—his hair, that sultry voice, the way his smile ignited something deep inside me, his sculpted body that was simply irresistible. it’s a thrilling, dangerous dance of attraction i never expected to find within the hallowed walls of the church i’ve attended since my teen years.

each memory of our encounter sent electric tingles down my spine, filling me with delicious guilt, as the stark reality lingered: he’s my priest. yet, with every recollection, i find myself craving him more passionately than ever.

the sun pierced through my curtains like a spotlight, dragging me from my dreams into the sharp reality of the morning. my mother’s voice cut through the lingering haze, urgent and commanding.

“get up! father charlie is coming for dinner, and i expect this house to be spotless—no excuses. i want you on your absolute best behavior, understood?”

confusion tingled at the edges of my mind. why was he coming? it’s been almost a week since i’ve saw him, had the lady told my parents about us? did they know our secret? a wave of panic washed over me as i considered the judgment that would surely follow. how could i face my father? the weight of guilt stifled my breath, intensifying the thrill of the unknown as i grappled with the looming dread of that evening.

as dinner time approached, i was determined to look as irresistible as possible for him, wanting his gaze to linger on me, to undress me with his eyes even in front of my parents. fuck,what is wrong with me?

i slipped into my cute little white dress adorned with red bows at the front, letting my long, dark curls cascade down my shoulders. i opted for light makeup, hoping it would keep my parents from noticing anything unusual and questioning my sudden desire to impress.

i eagerly helped my mother set the table, aiming to make our long dinner table as inviting as possible for our guests. my father had dashed out for a last-minute item, while my mother was busy putting the finishing touches on a delicious dinner in the kitchen.

just as i was arranging the silverware, the doorbell rang, causing my heart to race. "It must be your father! Go on and open it!" my mom called out.

with excitement, i swung open the door, only to be taken aback by an unexpected sight—father charlie stood there, smiling warmly.

"hello," he said, his voice stern yet laced with a sweetness that sent a flutter through my chest. my words caught in my throat, rendering me speechless, but thankfully, my mother swooped in, gently nudging me aside. "excuse my daughter; she can be a bit shy," she remarked, an edge of annoyance in her tone.

charlie chuckled lightly, handing his coat to my mother, and in that moment, i felt rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do or say. i quietly made my way to the dinner table, where he and my mother awaited my father’s arrival. soon, after setting the table with the help of charlie and my mom

the door swung open, and my father entered, exchanging warm greetings with the priest. he wrapped my mother in a hug and planted a kiss on my cheek, causing charlie to flash a soft smile, filling the room with an unexpected warmth.

charlie sat across from my father, while my mother nestled close to him, her seat a cozy distance from my own, which was beside charlie but still a tad bit removed. in a nod to traditional values, my father insisted that men should occupy the edge seats at the table, marking their territory in the process.

tonight, however, charlie broke away from his typical priest attire, donning a fitted black tee that perfectly hugged his toned muscles, paired with stylish blue jeans and dress shoes that elevated his look. he was undeniably striking, and i couldn't help but notice my mother stealing glances at him, her interest unmistakable.

the atmosphere was charged, blending formality with an unspoken tension as i wondered if charlie was aware of how captivating he really was.

“father, i apologize for our absence at church lately; we've just been on a family business trip searching for the right college for my oldest son,” my mother said with a hint of regret, breaking the silence as everyone savored the delicious, warm meal in front of us. “but i promise we'll be back this Sunday, no expectations.” the pastor smiled reassuringly, “no worries, mrs. i truly miss having you all in the pews; the church has felt a bit quieter without your joyful presence.”

our family, deeply rooted in our latin heritage, held a passionate devotion to our faith, with crosses and images of the virgin mary adorning our home like cherished family portraits. “did you end up choosing a school for him?” charlie asked, his curiosity piqued as he leaned in, eager to hear about our latest adventure.

"have you, mom?" my oldest brother snapped, clearly frustrated by our parents' attempts to dictate his career path. while he dreamed of a fulfilling future in a blue-collar job, mom and dad were set on steering him toward something more prestigious—like princeton. my dad lit up at the mention, eager to share the news, while my mom squeezed his hand, her joy palpable despite the tension. nearby, charlie, our priest, flicked his gaze between my brother and our parents, noticing the undercurrents of disagreement.

i couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment; charlie hadn't said much to me since the last church gathering, and his casual glances felt like a stark contrast to the connection i had hoped we’d built. i understood he was busy, but a part of me longed for him to remember us as more than some random girl.

"how about you?" father charlie asked, fixing his gaze on me with a playful smirk. my parents, caught up in their own conversation, turned their attention our way. "um, I'm not really sure what I want to do," i replied with a light smile, but before I could dive deeper, my mother chimed in with a grin, “she’s going to be a mother and a wife to that sweet johnson boy!”

my eyes rolled in annoyance; i barely got a word in. “oh, come on, sweetie, he’s an amazing boy,” my dad added, oblivious to my frustration. “yeah, that’s what you think,” i muttered under my breath, eliciting a quiet chuckle from charlie.

the truth was that charlie secretly despised my parents and their controlling ways; he had come to spend time with me because he missed everything about me—my laughter, my innocent chatter, even the way my curls bounced when I smiled. “what do you think of him, father?” my dad asked charlie, eager for validation.

“well, I’d rather keep my opinions to myself,”

charlie replied, feeling a knot of anger form in his stomach at the thought of losing me to someone who might claim my sweet innocence as their own.

the dinner table buzzed with animated chatter and infectious laughter, but i felt a spark of mischief ignite within me. to shake off my boredom, i slipped off my shoe, playfully resting my foot on his leg, teasingly dancing my toes along the fabric of his pants. the moment his eyes shot a strong, stern glance my way, i couldn’t resist the urge to tease him further, my heart racing at the thrill of it all. i noted how his jaw clenched tightly, fists growing pale from the pressure as he fought to suppress a smile. deep down, i knew he missed even the lightest touch—the electric connection sparking between us made the dinner all the more delicious.

as dinner wound down, my parents and brother exchanged warm goodbyes with charlie, who, despite his insistence to help with cleanup, was gently shooed away by my mother. she was just grateful for his visit and wanted him to relax. then, in a surprising twist, charlie turned to me with a glint in his eye, asking if i could join him at the church to lend a hand for an upcoming fundraiser. my heart raced with excitement and curiosity—what an unexpected adventure! my parents enthusiastically approved, and as i stepped towards the door, my father wrapped me in a protective hug, reminding me to stay safe. "don't worry," charlie assured him with a charming smile, "I'll have her back before midnight." with that, i was swept away into the evening, f

charlie flung open the passenger door, a strained smile masking the simmering frustration beneath the surface while my father loomed on the porch, eyeing his every move. i waved goodbye as he slid into the driver’s seat, his jaw taut, fingers digging into the steering wheel as he pulled out of the driveway, glancing back to see my father retreat into the house. the tense silence hung in the air until he finally snapped, "so that’s the boy you’ve been sneaking out with, huh?" the edge in his voice was sharp enough to cut, and I couldn't help but scoff. "yeah, but it’s nothing. i told you i ended it before it started." “right," he said bitterly, "because your parents must be thrilled at the idea of pawning you off to some creep. what the hell?" his anger hung heavy, and i instinctively placed my hand on his arm, tracing the tense muscles with my fingers, trying to coax him back to calm. “relax, charlie! im not marrying him. why are you so worked up? It’s not like we’re anything.” he shoved my hand away, not roughly, but with a quiet intensity that sent a jolt through me. i bit my lip, a mix of shock and irritation bubbling inside me, watching him wallow in his own turmoil as the air between us crackled with unspoken words.

i couldn't shake the intensity radiating from him, his barely contained anger flickering beneath a calm facade for my parents. It was intoxicating—the way every piercing glance and biting remark sent shivers down my spine, igniting an undeniable desire within me. i craved him, yearned for him with a ferocity that made me fantasize about marrying him, bearing the children he dreamt of. i knew society would never accept it, but deep down, i was certain charlie wouldn’t give a damn. the thrill of this forbidden desire only made me want him more.

“y/n” charlie's voice dripped with urgency, igniting a fire within me, “if i could whisk you away and keep you all to myself, believe me, i would. no man—no boy—here even comes close to deserving you. for years, i’ve watched you grow, and my care for you has morphed into something fierce. i desire you more than i crave the title of 'priest.’ you’ve been burning in my thoughts, and not seeing you for a week felt like an eternity. when i stood up there to preach, all i could think of was your face, and with every passing day you weren’t there, my frustration simmered and boiled. you need to understand this—” suddenly, i ignored him, only for him to grasp my chin forcefully, compelling me to meet his gaze. “do you hear me?” he demanded, his eyes ablaze.

"yes," i whispered, locking eyes with him, a spark igniting awareness in his gaze that made him swallow hard. my mind raced with vivid imagery of me kneeling, surrendering to him just as fervently as i prayed each day. "yes what?" he pressed, his voice thick with anticipation. "yes, father," i responded, my innocent tone setting him ablaze with desire. i could feel his urgency, the way he longed to pull the car over and claim me in the backseat, where the world could witness our recklessness. let them see—if he wanted to stake his claim, then i was wholly his.

"that's my girl," he exclaimed, a devilish smirk dancing across his lips as he caught the spark of surprise flicker in my eyes. those three simple words sent a rush of heated electricity coursing through me, igniting a wild mix of excitement and longing that was hard to contain. as his fingers brushed gently against my bottom lip, I felt the world around us fade away, leaving just the two of us suspended in an intoxicating moment where everything felt possible. my heart raced, caught between exhilaration and desire, wondering what thrilling depths this connection might plunge us into next.

as we strolled past the towering façade of the old church, its stained glass windows shimmering under the fading daylight, a thrill coursed through me. i sensed that he was leading me to his sanctuary, a place that would mark the beginning of an intoxicating journey where i would be claimed wholly and unapologetically as his. The thought ignited something primal within me—a fervent desire to surrender myself entirely to him, to let him dismantle the barriers i had so carefully erected, to be utterly transformed by his touch. i welcomed the idea of being shattered, for in that destruction lay the promise of becoming his—completely and irrevocably his. it was a reckless plunge into the abyss of passion, a daring leap toward a future where i would no longer be my own, but a beautifully chaotic tapestry woven together with his deepest desires.

as we pulled up to his house, charlie swung open the passenger door, gesturing for me to step out. the moment i did, i caught sight of a group of people lounging on their porch, laughter mingling with the warm evening air. i couldn’t help but wonder what gossip would ignite amongst them at the sight of a girl arriving at her priest’s doorstep—what could they possibly think of this encounter? but that curiosity only fueled the thrill coursing through me. eagerly, we approached the door, and charlie let me in first, casting a glance at the neighbors across the street as he shut us in, a sly smirk playing on his lips. to him, it was all a game—the whispers, the speculation—he relished the thought of everyone knowing that I was HIS, wrapped in a dangerous intrigue that sent shivers down my spine.

as we stepped into his home, an electric tension crackled in the air, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back—a gesture that felt both reassuring and enticingly perilous. his gaze, intense and predatory, traced the contours of my body like a painter admiring a masterpiece, his eyes hungry and filled with desire. The moment charlie slipped off his shoes, his invitation for me to do the same felt like a seductive prelude, erasing the boundaries between us. wrapped in his warmth, i felt an exhilarating mix of security and longing, his towering height and chiseled muscles radiating strength and protection. just when i thought i could savor this moment forever, he stood close behind me, his breath teasing my neck as his fingers delicately swept my hair to one side. each soft kiss he planted along my neck ignited a flame deep within, intertwining the thrill of vulnerability with an insatiable desire to surrender to the allure unfolding between us.

charlie’s fingers slid teasingly down the delicate fabric of my dress, the soft material cascading off my shoulders like a whisper, revealing the perfectly tied red bows at the front that tantalizingly held it in place. with a sultry smirk, he pulled the dress down, letting it pool at my hips, exposing every seductive curve that made my heart race and his breath hitch. as his hands gripped my bum firmly, a playful slap ignited my skin, sending a thrill through me. i spun around, our lips crashing together with a fiery urgency that ignited the room, our kiss deepening, becoming a passionate dance of tongues seeking dominance. the air was thick with moans and the intoxicating backdrop of his lightly decorated home added an intimate ambiance that made this moment feel like a scene out of a forbidden film. god forgive me, but i craved this encounter more than i ever craved a visit to church; my back arched, pressing into his sturdy embrace as i melted against him, eager for more.

charlie broke away from the kiss to stare at my body admiring my white laced under garments that hugged every curve just right, my boobs almost spilling out the bra and cute panties with the red bow on top “you wore this just for me?”

charlie kept my leg lifted placing kisses on my inner thigh finally getting to my heat licking it slightly and eating me like i was his last supper

i pulled on his hair softly throwing my head back at the sudden pleasure

he puts a finger in me still kissing the clit pumping his finger in and out of me he pulls back standing up not letting me reach my climax which caused me to frown at the sudden urge to let go and not being able too

charlie's eyes gleamed with a mix of desire and mischief as he guided me towards the couch, his touch igniting a thrill that danced up my spine. the moment i settled into the soft cushions, i felt the weight of his gaze, like a fire tracing every curve and imperfection only he seemed to elevate to perfection.

my breath hitched, anticipation coiling tightly within me as he slowly unbuckled his pants, revealing the tantalizing outline of his bulge straining against dark, fitted underwear. heat rushed through me, and i couldn't help but gulp at the sight—he was an intoxicating blend of confidence and allure that left me utterly captivated.

charlie pushed me back lightly releasing himself from his underwear “grab your ankles and lay down” i do as told exposing myself to him grunting at the sight he spits on his hard cock jerking off slightly at the sight.

he enters into me, holding my legs and pulling me close, while i grip the soft cushions around me for support. he continues to thrust hard and fast, taking me to a climax that leaves me breathless.

this new sensation enveloped me, igniting a fire within that i could neither quench nor contain; it was a delicious addiction I never wanted to shake off.

charlie's whimpers and moans crescendoed around us, a symphony of ecstasy that threatened to veil my own gasps, which i fought to muffle—desperate to avoid drawing eyes our way

but charlie? he was under no such constraint, reveling in every intoxicating thrill, blissfully unaware of the world outside our bubble. the air crackled with unspoken desires, heightening the thrill, as I tried not to betray the wild yearning surging through every fiber of my being.

his strokes becoming sloppier and slower by the minute.

“so fucking wet and tight”.

i felt him twitching inside of me pulling out and releasing all over my stomach causing me to bit my lip at the unholy sight in front of me.

as charlie gently wiped the droplets of him from my skin with a soft towel, his smile illuminated the moment, filling the air with warmth and tenderness. his small kiss on my forehead felt like a promise of comfort and connection, a sweet reminder of the bond we shared.

as he handed me my dress with a reassuring grip on my hand, I felt an overwhelming sense of support, like he was there not just to help me get dressed, but to wrap me in his unwavering affection

once we were both ready, his arms encircled me in a secure embrace, and just before we stepped back into the world, he leaned in for one last kiss that lingered, an echo of love amidst the laughter and the chaos surrounding us.

as the door clicked shut behind us, a wave of adrenaline surged between us

thankfully, no curious eyes bore witness to our exit, or hell would’ve ensued. charlie led the way to his car, the tension palpable as he opened the passenger door for me, a silent promise hanging in the air that we were in this together

the moment his tires crunched over gravel, i glanced back to see my father emerge from the shadows of our porch, suspicion etched across his face, while charlie’s jaw tightened like a vice as he prepared for the inevitable storm. "someone said something, i know it," i spoke up, and without hesitation, charlie met his gaze with defiance. he might have been crossing a line, but that didn't matter; love was a risk he was more than willing to take—and hell hath no fury like a forbidden love.

[eddiesxangel]

Could this be Fate? | Alpha!Eddie x Omega!Reader

CW: omegaverse, alpha!eddie, omega!reader, f!reader, strangers to lovers, typical omegaverse lore, mention of assault but nothing specific (not on reader), breeding, mention of suppressants, biting, oral (f), p in v.

4.1K words

S/o to @lesservillain and @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me with this one 🥺💜

As Eddie leisurely wandered through the grocery store, his mind drifting through thoughts of daily tasks and work deadlines, he was suddenly stopped by an alluring fragrance. The mouth-watering scent of warm cinnamon, rich coffee, and a hint of maple filled the air, wrapping around him like a cozy embrace and awakening a deep longing. Despite the rarity of fated mates, Eddie's heart fluttered with new hope as he was irresistibly drawn toward the captivating aroma, igniting an unspoken quest within him to find its source.

At first, he thought it came from the bakery, but the closer he got, the more elusive the scent became. So, he followed the irresistible aroma, realizing he had never smelled anything so strongly.

The scent was like joy etched into his brain – the sweet essence of serotonin intertwining with his other senses. He finally understood what love was, and it called to him.

Eddie hurried ahead as the scent intensified, and there you stood, eying different cheeses. With your hair draped over your shoulder, you compared Brie and Camembert, deep in deliberation. You were oblivious to the alpha staring at you, mouth open in awe, until you inhaled deeply to make your choice, only to catch an unexpected aroma of leather and coffee.

You snapped your head up, forgetting about the cheese, overwhelmed by the aroma that invaded your space. You tucked your hair behind your ear to get a better view, and that's when you noticed him. He was strikingly handsome with rough edges. All hair, tattoos, and leather, yet there was an endearing look in his big, beautiful brown eyes that let you know he is kind.

Eddie's heart skipped a beat as your eyes met his. The colour of your eyes was unlike anything he had ever seen – a mesmerizing blend of rich hues that captured his attention, yet bright enough that he thought he saw stars.

"Hi," Eddie sighed, already lovestruck. His dorky smile was so endearing you couldn’t help but smile back at the stranger. 

“Hi,” it came out almost as a whisper. Your heart was racing, and your stomach did a flipflop. 

You have never felt like this before… like you needed to claim this man standing beside you… like you needed to mark him, to make him belong to you and you to him… yet you don’t even know his name.

“Hi,” he breathes again, not knowing what to say, making you giggle. 

“What would you pick?” You ask him, not wanting him to leave. 

“What?” He snaps out of his aroma high you put him in. 

“Brie or Camembert, what would you pick?” 

“You,” he says without a beat.

“Very smooth,” you try to hide your bashful smile as the blood rushed to your face so fast you swore you could hear it pumping through your skin. 

“I’m Edward… but you can call me Eddie.” He clears his throat. “Edward, but Eddie,” he stumbles his words and sticks out a tattooed hand. 

You take it, feeling sparks as your skin connects, and you both know it but are too scared to admit it. This was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

You tell him your name, and he repeats it softly to commit it to memory. 

“You wanna shop around with me?” He scratches his head, not too sure what he is even saying. 

“Um,” you pause to think about it. “Yeah, I would.” You smile, and the breath Eddie was holding finally lets out. 

Spending time with Eddie was the best part of your day. Things had been rough for you, especially since you were running late to prepare for a get-together with friends Robin and Nancy. The stress about the charcuterie board and wine now seemed foolish; but seeing Eddie made all those worries vanish. You both share a magnetic connection, almost as if you're destined to be together.

Neither of you has voiced the idea of being fated mates, as that seems absurd and extremely rare. It's impossible to think he's your perfect match. Yet, as you continued through the grocery store, you both realized this was something different. Surprisingly, instead of feeling nervous around an alpha, you felt safer.

You have never met anyone who found their fated mate. You learned about them in health class, where you were told that you should recognize them by scent, attraction, and connection. However, they are so rare that statistics indicate only one in ten million people find their mate. Therefore, it seems impossible for this to happen to you.

When the girls came over, you couldn’t wait to tell them about the man you met today. 

“You always hear about ‘when you know you know,’ but this felt like I knew.” You babble. “It’s like I was seeing colour for the first time? But of course, I know what colours are, but it’s like… I don’t know….I sound crazy.” You shake your head.

“No, keep going!” Nancy encouraged. Her bright smile so genuine you couldn’t say no to her.

You take a long sip of your wine, “Do you guys believe in fated mates?” 

“I think they are real.” Robin nods.

“I think so too. There is no way all the stories can't have some truth behind them,” Nancy offered her thoughts, as she always did with such intelligence.

Based on what you described, they were utterly convinced he was your soulmate. The endless questions began—they wanted to hear every tiny, intimate detail, especially since they had never known anyone who experienced such a connection, let alone their closest friend. You vividly recounted how you felt an overwhelming urge for him to tear your clothes off and claim you right there in the dairy aisle. Yet, he was the epitome of a gentleman; he walked you to your car, pushed your cart for you, and meticulously loaded your bags into the trunk. If you had been a bus rider, you were certain he would have offered you a lift without hesitation. His disappointment was palpable when it came time for your goodbyes. This inexplicable connection lingered, though you waved off their comments, chalking it up to a whimsical notion of a hopeless romantic.

Just like he knew you were gushing about him, he calls while the girls are over. Thankfully, he had asked for your number in the parking lot before you had driven off. If he hadn’t, you would have asked for his; there was no way you weren’t seeing this guy again. You both lingered, not sure how to feel. You were both nervous, but he also made you feel safe, not something you were used to with an alpha. 

You had to quell Nancy and Robin’s excitement while they eavesdrop in on the conversation.

Eddie had asked you out for coffee, keeping it light and casual, instead of inviting you to his place. He was considerate of your need to be in a public space for safety. He didn’t have much money to spend on you, and coffee was easy and relaxed; he didn’t want to come off too strong; he had just finished high school a year ago and didn’t want to scare you away. The only thing he wanted was to keep you. He was aware of what some other alphas had done, often covered in the news—taking whomever they wanted, whenever they wanted, believing they were entitled just for existing. They acted like gods... but not Eddie. Eddie wanted to protect his omega and ensure you were never stressed. He felt a deep, primal urge to keep you safe.

Eddie didn’t fit into society’s archetypes about what alphas should be and look like, so when he started changing, he didn’t believe he was one until his first rut… that sure was something he didn’t expect. 

Sure, Eddie was different, but he was still an alpha; he wanted to claim, mark, and breed you. He pushed away x-rated thoughts of the two going at it in the grocery store parking lot. He knew it was too soon; only a crazy person would have the urge to want to mark a total stranger… to want to make them theirs…. to have them feel safe, and stop at nothing to do so.

You have been on Eddie’s mind every second since he met you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you soothed his soul, how he couldn’t even think straight.

So coffee on Tuesday afternoon seemed like a safe bet; thankfully, both of your schedule’s allowed it.

By the time it hit two o'clock, you were buzzing with excitement. Eddie was due any moment, and you couldn't stop fussing over your outfit. Did you seem too eager? Was your hair too big? Too much makeup? Or not enough? Your mind was a whirlwind of questions until the door speaker announced his arrival.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. Eddie was on the other side, and all your worries floated away when you saw him with a bouquet. No one had ever gotten you flowers before… 

When Eddie came to pick you up, you initially didn’t have the heart to tell him that this coffee shop was your place of work, but all of that went by the wayside when Steve, your manager and another Alpha greeted you. 

“So, what brings you in on your day off? Can’t get enough of me?” Steve smirked at you, and Eddie had to swallow the burning jealousy that was bubbling to the surface. “I’m on a date.” You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Well, it’s about time someone snatched you up.” Steve winked at Eddie, and he could be strangling him right then and there. Eddie didn’t want to feel this way, but his alpha was taking over. He didn't appreciate the wink.

Eddie paid for your drinks and insisted you get a snack, so you picked your favourite muffin. Steve gave him the employee discount without his knowledge, but you said nothing. You wanted this to go well. 

Steve seemed like a good guy, but Eddie wasn’t a fan of your working so closely with another alpha. He had doubts; he hated how he smiled at you and how Steve could make you giggle. Eddie tried to push down the thought of the two of you working alone. 

You suggested you sit outside on the patio, away from prying ears.

“Are you sure this is okay? If I had known, I would have taken you somewhere else, like ice cream or something...” His leg bounced, and you could see how he was in his head. He felt like an idiot for thinking this would be an excellent first-date spot. 

You had sat across from him, but you scooted your chair closer and rested your hand on his knee. 

“I’m okay, Eddie. I promise. I’m happy to be with you. I don’t care about the setting… we have the best coffee anyway.” You giggle. 

Eddie melted at your touch; everything about you calmed him but riled him up. 

As first dates go, this had been the best one you’ve ever been on. You delved into each other's worlds; the conversation flowed effortlessly, and you can’t recall the last time you laughed so heartily. Eddie was loud, theatrical, and boisterous, and you relished every moment. 

He loved how attentively you listened to him and didn’t make him feel embarrassed about his nerdy interests. He was astonished by your genuine curiosity and the warmth with which you sought to understand him. 

Your heart raced when Eddie walked you to your door, only to kiss your lips tenderly. You had longed to kiss him throughout the entire evening, often holding yourself back from leaning in, but now that the date had concluded, you didn’t want him to leave. 

This kiss was unlike any other, a swirling kaleidoscope of colours flashing behind your closed eyelids as your mouths moved in perfect harmony. Eddie’s strong hands held you firmly by the waist, grounding you in this extraordinary moment. 

Eddie wanted to roam his hands along your entire body badly, but he squeezed your hips instead to keep them in place. Your body reacted to the pressure of his fingertips, and you pressed your body further into his, and he slipped his tongue inside of your mouth. 

Groping at one another like a bunch of horny teenagers, you both didn't stop until your neighbour's door unlatched, starting you both.

“Do you want to come inside?” 

“I do, but if I come in, I’m going to want to take things further… and you deserve more than a hook-up on the first date.” 

“But what if I wanted to?” You look up at him with those mesmerizing eyes, and he fights with himself in his mind.

“You’re killing me here,” he chuckles, and you slip your hands around his waist, proceeding to kiss his neck. 

“Shit, no, no. God, I’m such an idiot. Fuck. Please. I wanna treat you right.” 

“Okay,” you sigh, disappointed but not offended. 

“I’ll call you,” Eddie promised before giving you one more needy kiss, then reluctantly pulling away.

You and Eddie have been seeing one another for a few weeks now and still have yet to move past making out in the hallway of your apartment. 

The more time spent apart, the more anxious you have become. Your omega yearned for Eddie. You wanted him so badly you had the crazy idea to stop taking your suppressants. You stopped taking them becuse you wish for Eddie to breed you- but the stopping of your suppressant only made your hormones go haywire, and your heat came on much more quickly than the doctor had said it would.

You had failed to mention the amount of time you had been spending one-on-one with an alpha and the way you reacted to him in the process. Your body felt like it was on fire, you had been sweating all day, you were sent home early from your shift because it was clear to Steve what had been happening and there was no way he would be around for that. 

You got home, and your nest didn’t feel right. You piled the shirts and pants that you had seen Eddie in, the faint smell of him lingering, but it wasn‘t enough. This was the first time you experienced heat since your first one a few years ago. You didn’t want to go through it again without an alpha with you, but you hadn’t even had a chance to talk about it with Eddie. Your decision was rash, and you became nervous to bring it up. You wanted to sleep with him so much that your omega acted for you, dumping out the pill bottle down the toilet so you didn’t change your mind. 

The cramps set on pretty quickly after you got home. The pain was so great that you almost passed out. You lay in your bed for hours, unable even to pick up the phone for anyone.

Eddie was getting increasingly worried. He had anticipated your call to confirm you got home safely, but over an hour had passed without a word. Perhaps you were asked to stay late? He had called your place around six times. Yes, it was excessive, but he couldn’t wait anxiously for you to call back. His concern overwhelmed him, prompting him to go to your workplace, hoping to find you safe.

He reluctantly asked Steve where you were, and when Steve told him, he sent you home because you were not feeling well. That’s when the alarms sounded off in Eddie’s head. His alpha entirely took over his actions, not even saying thank you or goodbye to Steve; he raced out of the coffee shop, back in his van, and towards your apartment. The closer he got to your door the more he could sense something was wrong. The smell was off, you weren’t happy, he could smell the stress emanating out from under the door.

You think you can hear a pounding at the door, but maybe that was just a part of your fever dream? You were burning up; your body was in so much pain from your heat that you could hardly keep your eyes open. Nothing felt right; you were so stressed you could hardly think straight, and the nest was so utterly wrong you hated it, but you had no choice.

You can hear more pounding and maybe you heard your name being called. You for sure hear a loud slam and an overwhelming aroma of leather and coffee but mixed with stress and anxiety.

A whimper escapes you when the smell strengthens and the noises become more audible. Your name was called repeatedly, but you hadn’t the strength to open your eyes.

“Baby!” Eddie rushed to your side when he saw you there, naked, curled up in the fetal position, skin slick with a layer of sweat.

It finally registered that it was your alpha with you in the room.

“Need you.” You reach for him, and he’s in the nest with you within seconds.

You take a deep breath in, and he purs, hoping it will soothe you as he holds your body against his.

“Baby, talk to me,” he coos.

“Hurts so bad,” You cry.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Need you”

“I’m here, baby.”

“No, I need you.” Your hand grazes his crotch, and Eddie understands now. You must be going into heat, but you told him you were on suppresents?

The two of you never spoke about taking things to the next step, not that Eddie didn’t want to. Trust, he wanted to, but he didn’t think you were ready.

“Baby, are-are you sure?”

“Please, I need you so badly, alpha.”

Hearing you utter those words triggered something in Eddie so primal that he produced a growl so low he startled himself.

Not taking any more time to mull it over, Eddie gently lets you go and slips between your legs. He sees your swollen clit, your slick drip from you; it’s soaked through your sheets, and the smell of it makes his eyes roll back into his skull before he dove in.

Out of all the times you’ve dreamt about Eddie between your legs for the first time, this was never the scenario.

A small whimper of relief left your lips as your Eddie’s mouth made contact with your mound. The soft hairs tickled Eddie’s nose as he explored your slick-coated folds, revelling in your taste. It was like nothing he had ever tasted; he wanted more and more; he was greedy -he primal.

The way his tongue slopes along your folds and up into your pussy was so good; you hate to think how he learned to please a pussy so well.

Your body was on overdrive, so sensitive that every touch was like you were on fire. His mouth felt so good on your lower lips; the familiar feeling of your orgasm came crashing through you so quickly.

“That’s it, that’s my girl, fuck you’re doing so well, sweet omega.” He massaged your clit as he talked you through your orgasm.

“Eddie.” Your hands grip his roots. He feels so good underneath you, but the pain is still there. It wouldn’t go away until he was fully inside.

“More, Eddie, please; I want your knot.”

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. His pants and boxers were off as soon as you finished telling him what you needed.

His cock was at attention, and your mouth watered at the sight of it.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. Your alpha has you.”

“Hurts,” you cry.

Eddie is mindful; he stretches you out with his fingers first, and he knows his size is of the larger stature.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby; I got you.” He aligns himself with your throbbing pussy and slowly pushes himself inside.

“Fuck” he grits through his teeth, never has he felt something so delicious.

Your head was spinning; nothing felt real, but your senses had been so heightened that you felt everything. The sweat dripping down your back, the electric touch of eddies hands on your waist, the way his cock stretches you so wide, and how he plunges himself so deep.

“Please, please, please,” You babble.

Eddie takes that as his cue to start pumping in and out of you. His knot was rapidly growing with each thrust, and it took everything in him not to plunge himself so deep inside. He took his time fucking you, making love to you.

He knew that you were it for him; even if the rumours were not true about fated mates, that didn’t matter. You were everything to him and more.

“Harder,” you plead.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, please; I need it so bad, Eddie. Need you so bad.” You grab onto his hips and push him in deeper. The thick base of his cock stretched you so well. Your body was made to take it as he ruts up inside of you.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck” Eddie hisses. No one had ever taken his knot before, and god, was it good. Your tight dripping pussy wrapped around him as he plugged your hole.

Eddie’s cock was so deep inside you, and he kept rutting his hips up up up, hitting that delicious spot every time that your second orgasm washed through you like a tidal wave.

“shit,” Eddie couldn’t handle the way your pussy was like a vice on his cock. His seed spurting up into you and being locked in place by his knot only had your head spinning.

“Thank you. Your tears were streaming down your face, and Eddie repositioned both of you so you could sit up on his lap.

“That’s it, baby, I’ve got you. All you needed was your alpha to breed you, huh?”

“Not all,” you sniffle.

Eddie looks at you bewildered. What else could you be asking for? He cannot recall much of high school health class.

“Mark me, mate me, make me yours,” you beg.

“Wh-what? Princess, you’re not thinking straight. Its just the first few hours of your heat… we should talk about this.” He strokes your hair out of your face.

“No, please, Eddie! We are mates. Fated mates. I feel it in my bones, don’t you?” You try and hold back your tears but your heart feels so much for Eddie they come down freely.

“No baby, don’t cry. He wipes the tears away before pulling you in closer. Your naked body’s flush against one another. Your slick still trying to leak down your legs.

“I’m sorry, I love you. I want to be with you.”

You mumble into his neck, your nose graze his scent gland. You nuzzle your face into it before your teeth graze lower on his neck, daring to puncture.

“You love me?”

“Yes Eddie so much, it like I can’t breath when your not around.”

“No ones ever loved me before…”

“Oh Eddie, baby.” You kiss him like it was your last time you ever will. Your hips grind and Eddie’s cock hits that stops deep up inside you once again making you both main with pleasure.

“I love you so much, do-do it” he stutters. No way he could deny this connection any longer. You were right and he will do anything in his power to please you, to claim you, to have you, to love you.

“You sure?”

“Yes, baby, mark me. I want everyone to see who I belong to.”

You sink your teeth into the skin where his neck meets his shoulder and it’s like everything made sense. You never felt so much love, so much light and happiness. You could tell how much Eddie loved you just by the scent.

You lick at the wound and Eddie brushes your hair out of the way so he can claim you as his.

“You want my mark?”

“Please” you beg still grinding your hips trying to chase a third orgasm.

Eddie’s soft lips part against a higher point, closer to the middle of your throat and then it happens. His teeth sink into your skin and you feel a sing but then your orgasm hits you all at once. The connection between you two bound together for a lifetime. In that moment, it became undeniably clear to both of you that this was your destiny. Meeting Eddie at the grocery store was no mere coincidence; it was as if the universe had aligned to bring you together. Eddie had become your pillar of support, your perfect counterpart. This kind of serendipity doesn't come around for just anyone, and you felt incredibly fortunate to have found him.

“Holy shit”

“Wow”

You're both awestruck, soaking up the moment. Breathing in one another as Eddie’s knot shows no sign of deflating just yet.

Your heat would still be going full force for the next few days, however for now the pain has subsided.

“I love you.” Eddie whispers. “You’re the love of my life.”

“I love you Eddie” your arms wrap around his neck pulling him closer. “Now breed me.”

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 7

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt, language, PTSD, soft Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy gets hurt, anxious reader, mention of torture

Word Count: 3373

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

Your senses began to awaken when a hand removed the mask covering your face. Your body felt numb and lightheaded, making it difficult for you to see anything, even if you were able to free your hands from the tight handcuffs. Your legs felt like jelly, and it felt like all of your strength had been stolen away. From a distance, you heard someone calling your name, but you had no idea who it was. Everything was terribly cloudy, complex, and hazy.

The voice attempting to communicate with you was most likely that of another evil scientist who had come to torture you and grab more samples from you. You thought, Oh, my god. How did things turn out for you? How much time have you spent here? Months, weeks, or a year? You struggled to remember every memory; your head hurt so much that you grimaced.

Ben snarled at Butcher, “Give me your fucking coat,” trying to quickly cover your body with his own as he saw you were only wearing a very short, thin, filthy dress that smelt terrible.

Ben said, “You still look beautiful, you know, but you definitely need a good and long shower, baby,” as he saw you straining to completely awaken. He kept observing your facial expressions, fascinated and concerned at the same time, since you appeared so innocent and confused in the metal box. You may have gotten the same upgrades as him, given his newfound abilities, and if he wasn't careful with you, you could do a lot of damage. If it were the same for you, though, he could manage the energy in your chest with ease.

You smelled blood everywhere and felt panicked the moment the smoke burned your eyes and made it difficult for you to see properly. Your body shook from anxiety and terror. All around you, you heard faint whimpers and shallow breathing that sounded like they were ready to pass away. The smell of death and pain filled that place. You knew you had to leave this torture house as soon as you could, while you were still able to. You used all of your strength to push the body in front of you against the wall and across the room harshly while that stranger forced you to put on a coat.

Ben groaned, “Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” as he realized he was through the wall. With a raised eyebrow, he grinned to himself. It wouldn't be that simple, he realized. After all, you were his equal. 

Butcher realized that this wouldn't go away as he had hoped and that he perhaps could have made a small mistake, and he took a step back in terror. He didn't dare get involved because he wasn't on Temp-V. 

You coughed in between clouds of smoke, and the heavy blood all over the area made your face drop. Indeed, you were once more in danger, and those creatures undoubtedly had new plans for you. You halted briefly as hot blood beneath your boots stopped you from continuing your frantic search for the exit. There were corpses all throughout the place, and they undoubtedly belonged to those people who had tormented you and forced you to sleep for who knows how long. 

“At this point, what will you do? Will she explode similarly to you or worse?” Ben stood up from the location he was thrown into, as Butcher asked.

Ben shook his head, scrubbing away the dusk and stones from his hair and clothes. “Stop whining like a bitch,” he shouted loudly. “I can handle this. She's just confused.”

You started to move out the door, but powerful hands quickly grabbed your waist and held your arms, restricting your movements just like the day you were tricked. You cried out, “Let me go,” as your heart raced in anticipation of being confinted or, worse, subjected to more agony.

You tried everything to pull yourself out of the desperate situation, feeling terrified and perplexed, but his grasp held you tightly, and it was strangely stronger than yours. 

A voice called out to your ear from behind you, “Calm down.” Once you found out, you knew it belonged to the man who once acted like he cared about you, then tossed you aside and tricked you with his new lover. That was when you truly realized what was going on. If your supe hearing sense wasn't playing tricks on you, it belonged to Ben.

“I want to get you out of here, sweetheart. I know how you are feeling, but stop resisting. Trust me.”

Ben spoke to you like he was whispering, yet you didn't feel at all at ease. Your body stiffened at the hurtful memories of him casting you aside, teaming up with Countess, and betraying you. He was the one who, along with Crimson Countess, imprisoned you in that icy, cruel location and made you endure unending suffering. His soothing murmurs sounded poisonous to the ears.

You fought to break free from his embrace as fury overtook the entirety of your being, but he applied even more force to you. Your gaze was fixed on the door when he settled his ruthless hold around your back, pressing his chest against your back to calm you. You felt so far away, yet so near to freedom. 

“It seems she's not very happy to see you, huh?” With a sly smile, Butcher smirked to Ben. “We must immediately leave this place. Any suggestions?”

Ben used the mask he had removed from your face moments before to cover your face once more, exposing you to the same smoke, while he managed to get a hold of both of your arms. You started to cry because you were horrified and felt betrayed, and your heart began to race since you had no idea what he would do to you. How come he was even abusing you in this way? 

You were still in his grasp as Ben leaned his head against yours, made you smell the smoke flowing from the mask, and whispered, “Sorry for this, baby. I wouldn't hurt you; I don't mean to. Just stay calm.”

Despite how much you tried to resist it, you have never felt more helpless against him. Tears were streaming down your face, and your eyes began to close. You wanted to talk to him right then and there and attempt to figure out what was bothering him so much about you. Though you planned to speak to him, the faint sound of his name vanished beneath the mask as a deep sleep overtook your already exhausted body.

“Thought you wanted to free her?” Butcher replied in a mocking voice as he observed Ben tightly holding the mask to your face while observing the painful look on your face. With an serious tone, Butcher continued, “We need to get the fuck out of here.”

When Butcher saw you two like that, he was surprised. All he knew was that everyone who knew them acknowledged Soldier Boy and Countess's romantic relationship. At the time, they were the most well-known couple. He was unaware of your relationship with Soldier Boy. As long as Ben followed through on his commitment to kill Homelander, he could care less about the possibility that it was an affair, something between you, or something else. He'd take care of other stuff later. 

Ben yelled, “Fuck off,” in a harsh tone. “Without this mask, we can't take her out like that. Until we get home, I'll keep her asleep.” 

“And how on earth will you do that, Mr. Loverman?”

Ben snapped, “Take that fucking tube,” and softened his hands immediately after applying the mask to your face a little too forcefully. While you were still a supe and wouldn't be easily wounded, he felt a little bad for unleashing his strength on you. You're being a supe did not, however, mean that using force against you was acceptable. “You will carry it while I keep that mask on her face till we get to the car.”

Butcher followed Ben's instructions and grabbed the tube Ben mentioned. As he strained to hold the tube steady on his shoulders, Butcher muttered a groan and said, “This shit is a bit too heavy.”

Even though he was stronger than the majority of other humans even in his human form, Butcher found it difficult to carry the tube. His jaw clenched and his muscles tautened as he bore it.

Ben was furious and was trying to find a method to carry you as he made sure the mask stayed on your face and forced you to stay asleep. “Be a fucking real man for a second,” he cursed. Ben lifted you in his arms and carried you in bridal carry while the other hand remained still on the mask.

“I should have used Temp-V,” Butcher complained once again as he followed Ben, who was making his way out of the room in quick steps, while you slept peacefully in his arms.

“Maybe you should just grow your dick,” Ben remarked as he headed for the car after getting a deep breath of fresh air. Sitting in the rear now, Hughie was staring at them, mouth agape with worry, seeing you in Soldier Boy's arms, blissfully asleep. 

Hughie tried to ask questions, but Ben shot him an angry glare and said, “Why the fuck are you waiting there? Fucking move.”

Hughie took a step forward and turned around without uttering a word. He watched, worried, as Butcher set down a big tupe on the seat next to Ben, who had come into the car, put you on his lap, and covered your face with a mask.

“Let’s fucking get the fuck out of there,” Butcher murmered after he gave a look to Ben and you.

Ben tenderly laid your body on his bed, and Butcher and Hughie followed him inside his room, their eyes wide with curiosity. 

“What happened to her?” Hughie asked Butcher and Ben, but neither of them responded.

In the hopes that you would be more at ease, Ben removed the mask from your face and waited for you to wake up once more. He saw you gently open your eyes, and his heart raced. Uncertain of your response, Butcher and Hughie put some distance between them.

You opened your eyes and let out a painful moan. When everything became clear to your sight at last, it was then that you realized you were lying in a bed that was comfy.

Ben slowly sat down next to you, placing his large hands on yours and muttering in a dry voice, “Everything's good; you're good.”

Was it truly good, though? 

With a feeble voice, you asked, “Ben?” while keeping your gaze on his green ones. He didn't look quite the same as when you last saw him. His beard gave him a more serious, grown-up appearance. “What's going on over here?” 

The two strangers who were observing you intently caught your attention, and they inhaled deeply. Ben was about to grab your hand, but you quickly moved to put some distance between you and avoid his touch. You smelled a lot worse than you looked, and you were wearing a long, black coat. You checked your body, and your face wrinkled with loathing. Oh god.. For how long has it been? 

You grimaced, gave Ben a fierce gaze, and asked, “How could you have done this to me?” before he could say anything more. 

Ben was briefly taken aback, but he wasn't shocked that you believed he was the one who had fooled and deceived you, placing you in such a horrible situation for decades—even though it had all been Vought's evil shit all along.

"Course it wasn't me." Ben immediately defended himself, gazing over your body. “I didn't even know,” he said.

You raised your hand to interrupt him before he could say any more lies, saying, “I just need a shower right now.”

You were careful not to touch Ben while he nodded and apologized in a low voice as he attempted to assist you in standing up. The two guys across the room were simply silently waiting and observing you when Ben sent them an angry glare, and they quickly left the room. Though you were ignorant of the dynamics amongst the three of them, you knew you needed to use caution if they were Ben's new fellow soldiers. In the end, you had no understanding of what was going on, and you received no change from anyone.

There was an unsettling silence the two of you had while you were alone in the room, but he soon showed you the bathroom. 

You murmured, gently keeping the coat against your body, “I need new clothes.” After everything that happened to you, you shouldn't have been concerned about how you looked, but you were unable to stop it. It was a natural inclination, after all, to feel clean. 

Ben smiled warmly at your hesitant attitude as he went to the wardrob with pride and showed you the t-shirt, underwear and all he had previously purchased for you with Butcher's money. He wanted you to see how interested and ready he was to start things again with you, as he had already given it much thought. Not only did he take your suit from Legend, but he promised to display it to you later. Your suit wasn't a priority, considering that the chaos all around you had already overwhelmed you.

“I'll be waiting downstairs, so we can talk about what happened properly,” Ben stated after clearing his throat. Then, you took the clothes from his hands and entered the bathroom, locking the door as though someone would dare to interrupt.

You took the longest shower of your life, showered head to toe, put on the clothes Ben bought you, and headed downstairs. Ben and two strangers were watching the news on TV, which seemed a little unusual because it was so modern. 

Ben did not make a scene, even though his face fell when he saw you sitting on the couch, distant from him. As you began to watch the news, you glanced at the gadget that Hughie was holding and clicked on it while wearing a serious expression. Then you turned to face Ben and requested, “Tell me slowly, what year we are in?” in a low voice.

With rush, Butcher responded, “It's 2022.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, placing your hand over your forehead, while continuing to stare at the TV and gawking at all the strange things you had never seen before. Ben had stole your years.

Ben instantly spoke up and stated once more in a firm voice, “I didn't do this to you. Vought deceived both of us. Also, it has been about four days since those fuckfaces rescued me in Russia.”

“You’re welcome,” Butcher said, sipping his whiskey.

You questioned Ben once more in a suspicious tone, “How did you even find out what happened to me?” You had plenty time to ask all the thousand questions you had, but you still had priorities.

Ben's gaze strayed as he thought about sitting next to you and making a physical connection to ensure you listened him properly without you passing judgment on him, but he remained where he was. He never considered discussing Crimson again, but it seems that it was inescapable.

Ben only said, “I learned it from Crimson Countess,” trying not to show how insecure he was. He and the Countess had already done you an immense amount of pain. 

With a sad smile, you nodded meaningfully and said, “Of course she'd be the first to pay a visit.”

She remained his main concern even after all this time and your efforts on his behalf. But now it means absolutely nothing. While you were sleeping, so many years had gone by, and nothing seemed to matter anymore. You felt like you had undergone a complete change from the person you knew in the past.

“It’s not what you think,” Ben said seeing your disappointed face.

“I really don’t care, Ben,” you simply said with all sincerity. You weren’t lying.

Although it was difficult to accept their relationship and everything that had happened in the past, you now felt a little foolish for not just letting go. In addition, you spent years in a metal box and were tortured because of your naive attitude. You felt lost, and you had nothing now. You were left without even a place to go.

“Do you have something to eat?” you shyly asked Hughie, who had a humble and kind expression on his face. You have questions, for sure, but you needed to eat something first.

Hughie quickly said, “Sure, we can order something.” And you thanked him with a smile on your face.

Ben took a deep breath and decided not to press the issue because he thought you were a little too sensitive and hungry. His whole body was itching to sit next to you, and his eyes never left you. He was never fully aware of how much his body yearned for your attention and touch. Perhaps since so many years had passed between you, this need and yearning had always existed. But you were not the woman he had known before, and your gentle but determined attempts to keep him at a distance disturbed him.

You leaned back as you ignored Ben’s gaze on you and tried to focused on the TV to see how much the world has changed.

“I visited her to ask what happened to you,” Ben suddenly said with a rough voice.

Without getting into an argument, you just nodded and carried on watching TV, saying, “Okay.”

There was a headline that said, ‘Soldier Boy's terror killed at least 50 people in a week,’ when the information first came on television. 

Ben cursed loudly, and you murmered, “What?”

You were all fixated on the reporter commenting on the extent of Ben's damage to Ohio and New York while Butcher turned up the voice of the TV. You gasped as you watched an entirely wrecked street in New York and heard injured people telling the TV reporter how far Ben's explosion was heard from and how badly he damaged the lives of everyone inside, killing 19 people, including children. 

Ben's face was unreadable as he stared at the television, lost in thoughts and feeling a weight of guilt in his chest. He had no intention of blowing up in the first place. He was aware that the Russian song was the reason behind his unexpected outburst in the middle of the street. He had no feelings of hostility toward people.

When they also displayed the doctor's picture on the screen—who was heavily involved in your torture—your lips parted in disbelief. The reporter was telling the public that Soldier Boy had blown up his house and him as well.

“What have you done?” you murmered to Ben whose lethal green eyes were fixed on yours.

Next Chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated!

And Happy Pride Month to my dearest readers and everyone! -`♡´-

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-

[winxanity-ii]

Hello, I'm not sure if the requests are open, so please forgive me! After reading your Gojo x Fem reader FIC "Gamer Gojo," awakened something in me. I wanted to see if I could request a gamer Gojo x Fem reader story, where the reader is really needy after watching Gojo play!😫or something like that feel free to reject this request if you don’t or feel uncomfortable. Thanks!

thanks for requesting and i hope i do your vision justice, forewarning, i might have made gojo a little mean 😩❤️

GAME OVER

ship: gamer boyfriend!gojo x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v ; overstimulation; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos) word count: 9.9k (i'm gagged cuz i swear it wasn't that many words as i was typing 😭😭💀)

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You unlocked the front door and stepped into the apartment, the familiar scent of sandalwood and vanilla greeting you like a warm hug.

Kicking off your shoes by the door, you slung your bag over the back of the dining chair and made your way to the living room.

Gojo Satoru was exactly where you'd expected him to be: sprawled on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV screen, fingers moving furiously over the controller. His headset was pushed back slightly, his white hair tousled in that effortlessly messy way he always wore it.

"Hey, babe," you called out as you passed by, heading to your shared bedroom.

"Mm, hey baby," he replied absently, his focus never straying from the game. His voice was a low hum, almost drowned out by the sound of in-game battle cries and epic orchestral music.

You couldn't help but smile; it was almost cute how engrossed he could get.

You dropped your bag on the floor and slipped into your comfier clothes—a soft oversized sweatshirt and your favorite pair of pajama shorts. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, wiping your face before heading back to the living room.

As you walked over to the couch, you noticed your little corner already set up: your pillow propped against the armrest, your blanket folded neatly and waiting for you.

Satoru might be lost in his digital world, but he never failed to make sure you had a cozy spot right beside him.

You plopped down next to him, the cushion dipping slightly under your weight. Leaning over, you placed a kiss on his cheek, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth.

Even though he was in the middle of a heated battle, he instinctively tilted his head towards you, almost like muscle memory, seeking out your touch.

"How was school?" he mumbled, his eyes still glued to the screen, fingers dancing across the controller with a practiced ease. You settled into your spot, draping the blanket over your lap and fluffing up your pillow.

"Same as always," you sighed, glancing at the TV. "Boring PowerPoints, boring lectures, boring discussion boards."

He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb rapidly tapping the attack button as he took down another cursed creature. "Sounds thrilling."

"What are you playing?" you asked, watching the screen as a dark, mythical landscape unfolded before you.

The game looked familiar—vivid bursts of cursed energy flashed as Satoru's character, a powerful sorcerer, slashed through hordes of enemies. It was the same one you'd seen him playing this morning before you left for class, though the setting now looked far more ominous, like he'd entered some cursed realm.

"It's Sorcerer's Domain: Curse Slayer," he said, his voice dropping as he concentrated, his character weaving through a series of devastating attacks from a towering boss. "A new MMORPG. The graphics are wild, right?"

You watched his hands as he played, fascinated by the speed and precision of his movements. His fingers moved deftly over the controller, each button press deliberate and fluid. The veins on his hands stood out slightly, muscles flexing with each motion as he navigated through the game with a kind of graceful intensity that made it hard to look away.

"Yeah, I mean, look at the detail on that cursed spirit," you mused, squinting at the screen as his character launched a spell that sent a wave of blue energy crashing into the boss.

It staggered, its grotesque form crackling with cursed energy before retaliating with a devastating attack. Satoru dodged it effortlessly, his thumbs moving in perfect synchrony with the game's frantic pace.

"Just playing with some friends," he murmured, his focus never wavering. "We're almost at the final boss level. Shouldn't take long."

You knew what that meant. Whenever Satoru got like this, it was best to let him ride it out. He was hyper-focused, chasing that rush of victory that came with beating a tough boss or clearing a particularly challenging quest.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it, then," you said, patting his knee gently. He hummed in acknowledgment, already diving back into his virtual world.

You reached for your phone and opened up your socials, scrolling through the latest posts and updates.

Time had slipped away, as it always did when Satoru got absorbed in one of his games.

It's been five hours since you'd come home, and he was still glued to the TV, headset on, fingers moving in a blur over the controller.

You'd spent the first hour scrolling through your socials, hoping he'd wrap up soon, but it quickly became apparent that he was in for the long haul.

Sighing, you put your phone down and got up from the couch, stretching the stiffness from your legs. "Might as well get some work done," you muttered to yourself, shooting a glance at Satoru. He was muttering something under his breath, the focused crease between his brows telling you he was neck-deep in whatever dungeon or boss battle he was facing.

You headed up to grab your things, pulling out your textbooks and laptop. It didn't take you long to finish up the few assignments you had left, the work more tedious than difficult. By the time you closed your laptop with a satisfied sigh, another hour had passed.

You looked over at Satoru, half-expecting to find him wrapping things up.

Nope. Still at it.

Shaking your head, you decided to be productive in other ways. You tidied up the living room, folding the blankets and fluffing the pillows. Then, you made your way to the kitchen to tackle the few dishes that had piled up in the sink. The warm water and soapy bubbles helped distract you from the annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. You knew he got lost in his games, but this was getting ridiculous.

Once the dishes were clean and drying on the rack, you even managed to carve out some time to catch up on your favorite stories, scrolling through the latest updates from the authors you followed religiously.

It wasn't until your stomach growled that you realized how much time had passed. You glanced at the clock—7:00 p.m. Satoru had been at it since you'd come home, and it didn't seem like he was planning to stop anytime soon.

With an exasperated sigh, you trudged downstairs, your patience wearing thin. You found him in the same spot, the blue glow of the screen reflecting off his glasses as he barked a command into his headset, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"Hey," you called out, but he didn't respond.

Typical.

You tried again, louder this time. "Hey, babe."

He glanced at you, barely registering your presence before turning back to the game. "Yeah, babe?"

"What do you want to eat? I'm starving."

"Uh, give me a sec." He leaned forward, fingers flying over the controller as he dodged and attacked, his character on screen spinning through a flurry of spells and sword slashes. "Almost done here."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You've been 'almost done' for hours."

"Just a few more minutes, promise," he mumbled, not really paying attention.

You sucked your teeth, feeling the annoyance bubble up again. "Fine, I'm just gonna order Chinese. You want anything?"

"Yeah, sure," he said absently, completely lost in his game again.

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your phone, scrolling through your saved takeout places. You placed an order for your usual dishes and added a few extras for Satoru, hoping that by the time it arrived, he'd be ready to eat.

Spoiler alert: he wasn't.

When the doorbell rang, you jogged downstairs to grab the food. You placed the bags on the counter and called out to him. "Food's here!"

"Okay, just put mine in the microwave, I'm almost done!" he shouted back, his voice muffled by the headset.

Your jaw clenched, the irritation rising again. You were hungry, tired, and honestly fed up with the damn game. But you did as he asked, placing his portion in the microwave before grabbing your own food and heading back upstairs.

You sat on the edge of the bed, chopsticks in hand as you picked at your lo mein. Every now and then, you could hear him shouting at the screen downstairs, his voice filled with excitement or frustration.

You scowled, stabbing a piece of broccoli with unnecessary force.

It wasn't like you weren't used to this. Satoru's gaming marathons were a known habit, something you'd learned to live with. But tonight, it just grated on your nerves.

Maybe it was the long day at school, or the fact that you hadn't really had a moment to spend together since you'd come home.

Whatever it was, you found yourself glaring at the staircase, silently cursing the game that had stolen your boyfriend away for the entire day.

When you finally finished eating, you trudged back downstairs, only to find Satoru still engrossed in his game, the food you'd microwaved for him untouched.

You sighed, putting his plate in the fridge and wiping your hands on a dish towel.

Now, you were seated in your little spot on the couch, legs tucked under you as you pouted at your boyfriend's side profile. Satoru was still fully engrossed in his game, his brows furrowed in concentration as he battled yet another wave of cursed spirits.

You'd been trying to get his attention for a while now—first by poking his arm, then by leaning into his side with an exaggerated sigh. You even went so far as to pull at his sleeve like a child, your lower lip jutting out as you peered up at him.

But all he did was shoot you a distracted glance, a quick "Not now, babe," before refocusing on the screen.

You huffed, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest. Satoru was usually so playful, always quick to tease or scoop you up in his arms, no matter what he was doing.

But tonight, it seemed like the game had taken complete hold of him.

"Come on, that was bullshit!" he suddenly shouted at the screen, his fingers clenching the controller as his character took a heavy hit. "Seriously? Who designed this wack-ass boss fight?"

You watched as he leaned forward, his frustration bubbling over as he frantically dodged and countered, cursing under his breath as he tried to regain the upper hand.

There was something almost endearing about how seriously he took his games, but right now, you were far more interested in getting his attention than watching him rage at virtual monsters.

"What the hell! Get out of the AoE, you absolute trash-fucker!" he barked into his mic, and you couldn't help but snicker at the ridiculousness of it all.

Even when he was annoyed, he was still so damn dramatic.

You waited a few more minutes, hoping he'd wrap up soon. But when he let out a triumphant cheer, pumping his fist in the air as his character finally landed the finishing blow, you knew you'd have to take matters into your own hands.

Without warning, you shifted closer, throwing yourself into his lap. Satoru jolted slightly, but his eyes never left the screen, his hands still firmly gripping the controller.

You straddled him loosely, your arms sliding around his waist as you pressed your face into his chest, just under his chin. His body was warm against yours, and you could feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat through his shirt.

You curled up a bit more, pressing yourself closer as you mumbled his name.

"'Toru…"

Nothing. No response.

His eyes were glued to the TV, his fingers still working the controls as he maneuvered through another enemy onslaught.

"'Toruuuuu…" you whined again, this time louder, your voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. You tilted your head slightly, sneaking a glance up at him, but he didn't even look down.

You let out a huff, your frustration mirroring his earlier outburst. You wiggled in his lap, hoping to at least distract him enough to get a reaction. But he merely shifted his weight, adjusting his position to keep you balanced without losing focus.

"...Almost there..." he muttered, his voice low and strained with concentration.

You let out another whine, your breath warm against his chest as you nuzzled closer, your hands clutching at his sides. "Baby, I'm bored."

Still nothing.

You sighed dramatically, tightening your hold on him as you turned your face into his chest, your nose brushing against the soft cotton of his shirt. He smelled like a mix of his cologne and that clean, comforting scent that was uniquely his.

Another few minutes passed, filled with the sounds of Satoru’s character slicing through enemies and his occasional muttered curses.

Every now and then, he'd let out a triumphant shout or a frustrated groan, his fingers never stopping their rapid dance over the controller.

You could feel his muscles tensing and relaxing under your hands, his focus razor-sharp. He was clearly in the zone, but that only made you more determined to break through his defenses.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head just enough to peek at his face. His jaw was set, his lips pressed into a thin line as he concentrated on the screen.

The faint glow of the TV reflected in his eyes, and you couldn't help but admire the way his lashes cast delicate shadows over his cheeks.

But admiration wasn't enough right now. You needed his attention.

"'Toru..." you whispered again, your voice softer this time, almost a plea. You nuzzled your face against his chest, your lips brushing against the fabric of his shirt as you squeezed his waist gently.

For a split second, you thought he might finally look at you. His fingers paused, his body stilling under yours. But then, he shook his head slightly, as if trying to shake off a distraction.

"Just a few more minutes, baby," he murmured, his voice distant, already slipping back into the game.

You groaned in exasperation, your forehead pressing against his chest as you let out a muffled scream. You knew he could be stubborn, but this was a new level of obsession.

For a moment, you just stayed like that, curled up in his lap, your face buried against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest was soothing, the steady beat of his heart a reminder that, no matter how annoying he could be, he was still yours.

But that didn't mean you were going to let him off the hook that easily.

You pouted harder, leaning back to stare up at his face. Satoru's height always made moments like this a little ridiculous—he barely had to move, just a slight tilt of his head, and he was able to see right over yours, his eyes still glued to the screen.

You tugged at his shirt, your fingers curling around the fabric as you whined his name again, dragging it out like a petulant child.

"Satoru…"

He only hummed in response, the sound low and absent-minded as he continued to play, his attention still fully on the game.

A small breath of frustration escaped you, and this time, you decided to take more direct action. You reached up and grabbed his chin, your fingers pressing gently into the slight stubble that had started to grow there.

You pulled his face down, forcing him to look at you. His eyes, an intense shade of blue, almost too bright, blinked in surprise as if he were just now remembering you were there.

Up close, you could see every detail of his features—the way his hair fell messily over his forehead, still somehow perfect despite hours of being neglected. His lashes were long, almost absurdly so, casting soft shadows over the tops of his cheeks. And that slight stubble against your fingers felt both rough and familiar, a reminder of all the times you'd traced your hand over his jaw like this.

His eyes, usually sharp and playful, softened as he looked down at you. They were the color of the clearest sky, the kind of blue that held a thousand different shades, each one shifting and changing with his mood.

Right now, they were gentle, full of a warmth that made your heart stutter in your chest. You could see the flecks of lighter blue near the center, the darker ring around the edges.

It was like looking into the endless depths of the ocean, and for a moment, you almost forgot why you were mad.

He blinked again, his lips curling into that familiar, handsome smile that made you melt every time. The kind of smile that had gotten him out of trouble more times than you could count, the one that said he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you.

"Hey there, stranger," he murmured, his voice soft, almost teasing as his eyes roamed over your face.

Before you could respond, before you could get lost in that look he was giving you, something seemed to click in his mind. His eyes widened, the lazy smile dropping as he quickly remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh shit!" he yelped, his head snapping back up to the screen. "No, no, no—damn it!"

You could hear faint shouts from his headset, his teammates clearly panicking as whatever battle they were in started going south. Satoru's face was set in a small grimace now, his brows knitting together as he tried to salvage the situation.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered into the mic, his fingers moving rapidly over the controller again. "I got distracted. My bad, my bad—just focus on the healer, I'll tank this."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his sudden shift in demeanor, his earlier softness replaced with that determined focus you’d seen so many times before.

It was almost comical really, the way he could switch from doting boyfriend to intense gamer in the blink of an eye.

Still, you kept your grip on his shirt, refusing to let him off that easily. You watched as his jaw clenched, the muscles tensing under your fingers as he concentrated on the game. His eyes were narrowed now, the playfulness gone as he leaned forward, his whole body taut with focus.

"Damn it, Gojo!" one of his teammates shouted through the headset, the voice tinny and frustrated. "You almost cost us that round!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Satoru replied, his voice still a bit strained as he navigated his character through another onslaught of attacks. "I'll make it up to you guys. Just give me a sec."

Satoru tried to juggle his focus, his eyes darting between the TV screen and your face. He muttered a string of apologies, his voice laced with a mixture of guilt and distraction. "I'm sorry, babe, really. Just—just try not to do that, okay? I'll be done soon, I promise."

He attempted a quick smile, but his gaze kept flickering back to the game, his fingers never slowing as he guided his character through another barrage of attacks.

It was clear he was torn, wanting to give you his attention but still too wrapped up in the game to fully pull himself away.

Your patience, already stretched thin, finally snapped. You sucked your teeth, the sound sharp and frustrated, and pushed yourself off his lap. "Ugh, I'm just gonna wait upstairs until you're done."

You turned to leave, annoyance radiating off you in waves as you took a step away from the couch. But before you could get far, Satoru's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist.

"Babe, babe, babe, wait!" he pleaded, his voice rushed, almost panicked. He tugged you back a step, his grip loose but insistent. "I'm sorry, really, I am."

Even then, he kept bouncing his attention between you and the screen, his character taking a few hits as he fumbled with the controller. He glanced back at the game, his jaw clenching as he barely managed to block an incoming attack. "I'll be done in a second, okay? Just—please don't go."

You crossed your arms over your chest, your glare piercing as you looked down at him. "You've been saying that for hours, Satoru."

"I know, I know." He sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. He looked back at the screen, his fingers moving in a blur as he navigated through another complex series of moves, and then back at you, his eyes soft with regret. "Just give me like, ten more minutes. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

You could hear the faint shouts of his teammates through the headset, their voices filled with frustration and urgency as they tried to coordinate. "Gojo, seriously! Pay attention!"

"Crap, I know, I know!" Satoru shot back, his hand still holding your wrist as his gaze flickered between you and the screen. His face was set in a small grimace, the strain of trying to balance his attention clear in the tense line of his jaw, the tightness around his eyes.

You let out a heavy sigh. You knew he was trying, but it didn't make it any less frustrating.

You didn't want to be that type of girlfriend, the one who pouted and sulked because her boyfriend was enjoying his hobby. But right now, it felt like you were competing with the game for his attention, and you were losing.

You stood at the foot of the couch, still stewing in your frustration, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

You could feel Satoru's gaze on you, the weight of his eyes as he turned his head away from the screen, his fingers still working the controller almost on autopilot.

"Babe, I swear I'm almost done," he said again, his voice softer this time, a hint of desperation threading through his words. His lips were slightly parted, a pout forming as he looked up at you with those damn blue eyes of his—eyes that were usually so bright and playful but now seemed almost pleading, like he was afraid you'd slip away for real this time.

It was unfair how beautiful he looked, even now, disheveled and slightly sweaty from hours of gaming. His white hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction from where he’d run his fingers through it in frustration. His cheeks were a little flushed, the result of his excitement and annoyance blending together in that way only Satoru could manage.

And those eyes... Gods, those eyes. They were so impossibly blue, like the sky on a perfect summer day, framed by lashes that were almost too long for a guy, making him look absurdly beautiful even in his current state.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours as he bit down on his lower lip, a small, almost childlike gesture that made your heart clench. "Please?" he added, his voice almost a whisper now, the sound of it tugging at the frayed edges of your resolve.

You huffed, the annoyance still there, but you could feel it softening under the weight of his gaze. He always did this, made it so damn hard to stay mad at him when he looked at you like that—like you were the most important thing in the world, even when he was being an absolute pain.

"Fine," you muttered, your voice begrudging as you took a step back toward him. "But this better be the last time you ignore me for some stupid game."

His eyes brightened instantly, a smile breaking across his face, wide and brilliant, as if you’d just given him the best news in the world. He shifted the controller to one hand and reached out with the other, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he gently tugged you back onto the couch.

"Thank you, thank you," he murmured, pulling you down onto his lap with an ease that made your heart flutter. He was always so strong, so effortlessly sure of himself, and the way he handled you made you feel delicate, cherished. His lips pressed against your temple, the kiss light and fleeting as he murmured another apology. "I'm really sorry, baby. You know I can't help it sometimes."

"Yeah, I know," you mumbled, the words half-hearted as you settled against him, your arms slipping around his neck as you straddled his lap once again.

He kissed your cheek, then your forehead, his lips soft and warm as they trailed along your skin. "I'll make it up to you, promise," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear before he pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You let out a small hum, your fingers toying with the flyaway hairs at the nape of his neck, the silky strands slipping through your grasp as you absently played with them.

You could feel his muscles shifting under your touch, the way his shoulders tensed and relaxed with every movement, every reaction to the game. His jaw clenched when something went wrong, a soft growl rumbling low in his chest, the sound vibrating through you as you pressed closer.

Your hands slid up from his neck, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble as you leaned into him. He tilted his head slightly, giving you more access as he murmured something under his breath, his lips brushing against your hairline.

You sighed, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you snuggled into the crook of his neck.

From this position, you could hear every faint growl of frustration, feel the way his chest rumbled with each word he muttered. His arms were wrapped around you, one hand still holding the controller while the other rested on your lower back, his fingers drawing lazy circles against your skin.

It was almost mesmerizing, the way his body moved beneath yours, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with every motion.

You could feel the power in him, the strength in his arms as they tightened around you, the way his thighs shifted under yours as he adjusted his position, trying to balance you and the game at the same time.

"Come on, just a little more," he muttered, his voice low and intense, his fingers flying over the controller.

You could see the concentration on his face, the way his brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes were focused, but every now and then, he'd glance down at you, his expression softening, his grip on you tightening just a bit, as if he needed to reassure himself that you were still there.

And you were—content for the moment, just resting against him, letting his warmth seep into you.

Your fingers slid back up to his hair, threading through the soft strands as you tugged gently, feeling the way his breath hitched in response.

You pressed your nose against his neck, breathing him in, the familiar scent of him making your heart flutter in your chest.

He let out a low, shaky breath, his eyes flicking down to you for a brief second, his smile a little strained but still undeniably sweet. "You okay, princess?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your fingers still playing with his hair, your lips brushing against his collarbone as you sighed softly. "Yeah, I'm okay."

And you were, even though you knew you'd be annoyed with him again later.

For now, you were content, wrapped up in him, feeling every rise and fall of his chest, every shiver that ran through him as you pressed closer, your face buried in the warmth of his neck.

The longer you stayed nestled in Satoru's lap, the more you became acutely aware of every little detail about him. The way his body seemed to mold against yours, the steady warmth radiating from his skin, and the soft hum of his breath against your ear.

The initial frustration that had simmered earlier was still there, but it had shifted, morphing into something else entirely as you tried to get comfortable, wiggling a bit in his lap.

Your legs tightened around his hips, and you couldn't help but notice how good it felt, the friction sending a small, involuntary shiver up your spine.

You tried to focus on something else—anything else—but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the growing warmth spreading through your body, the way your skin seemed to tingle wherever it touched his.

You shifted again, a little more deliberately this time, your hips pressing down against his. A soft, almost inaudible gasp escaped your lips, and you buried your face in his neck to hide it, biting down on your lower lip as you tried to steady your breathing.

Satoru's chest vibrated against you with a low chuckle, his head tilting slightly as he brushed his lips along your jawline. "You okay there, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice a deep, velvety whisper that sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core.

Your heart stuttered, your breath catching in your throat as you felt his lips press a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear. He was still playing the game, but it was like he could sense the shift in your mood, the way your body was reacting to him.

The bastard always had a sixth sense when it came to you.

"You've been squirming an awful lot," he continued, his tone almost taunting as he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. "You trying to tell me something?"

You let out a small, frustrated huff, your fingers curling into his shirt as you tried to keep your composure. "N-No," you muttered, though the way your voice shook betrayed you.

"Mm, that doesn't sound very convincing," he teased, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing and nibbling along the sensitive skin as his other hand tightened around the controller. His voice dropped lower, a breathy murmur that sent a shiver through your entire body. "You're not still mad at me, are you? For being such a bad boyfriend?"

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each word he whispered making it harder to think, harder to breathe. "Satoru, you—" You tried to protest, but your voice faltered as he pressed a particularly firm kiss to the base of your throat, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

"What, baby?" he asked, his tone playful, almost mocking as he lifted his head to look at you. His eyes were darker now, a shade of blue that was almost dangerous, and the smirk on his lips was edged with something mean, something that made your stomach twist in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. "I'm trying to focus here, and you keep squirming around like that. You making it hard for me on purpose?"

His words, laced with a teasing edge, made your cheeks burn. You tried to pull back, to get some space to think, but he only tightened his hold on you, his fingers digging into your waist as he kept you firmly in place.

"Aw, don't be shy now,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "I know I've been a bad boyfriend, ignoring you like that. But you didn't make it easy either, distracting me while I'm trying to win."

You swallowed hard, the heat in your face spreading down your neck, your heart racing as his words washed over you.

There was a roughness to his tone, a sharp edge of frustration that made your breath hitch, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles were coiled tight under your hands.

"'Toru, please—" you started, but he cut you off, his lips ghosting over your jaw as he let out a low, dark chuckle.

"Please what, baby?" he purred, his breath warm against your skin as he nuzzled against your neck. "Ya'know, if you're so impatient, you could just ride me." His words were like a shot to the heart, and your whole body froze, your breath catching in your chest as you processed what he'd just said.

You pulled back, eyes wide as you stared at him, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and something far more dangerous. "W-What?"

Satoru's eyes darkened, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned forward, his hands sliding down to your hips, his grip firm as he tugged you even closer. "You heard me," he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. "If you're so needy, you can just ride me. I won't stop you."

He shifted on the couch, his body curling in toward you as he caged you in, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth as he whispered again, his voice dripping with that mean, teasing lilt. "Go on, baby. Show me how badly you want my attention."

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your whole body heating up as his words sank in, the implications of what he was saying making your head spin.

You tried to form a coherent thought, to come up with some kind of response, but your mind was blank, your body reacting instinctively as you pressed closer to him.

"'Toru—" you started, your voice trembling, but he just smirked, his hands squeezing your hips as he tilted his head, his eyes lidded and intense as he watched you.

"What's the matter?" he asked, his tone mocking, almost cruel as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "You were so eager to get my attention before. Did you change your mind?"

You shook your head, your breath hitching as his words sent another shiver through you, your fingers tightening in his shirt as you tried to find your voice. "N-No, I just—"

"Just what?" he pressed, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he whispered against your throat. "You said you were bored, didn't you? So why don't you entertain yourself, hmm?"

Your mind was reeling, the heat pooling low in your belly as his words wrapped around you, his voice a dark, seductive murmur that made it hard to think, hard to breathe.

He was teasing you, taunting you, and the worst part was, it was working.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you looked up at him, his face so close, his eyes boring into yours with that wicked gleam that made your pulse quicken. "I—"

"Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice softening just a fraction as he kissed the corner of your mouth, his hands guiding your hips, pressing you down against him in a way that made your breath hitch. "I know you want to."

You felt like your whole body was on fire, your thoughts a jumbled mess as you stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest as he continued to watch you, his eyes dark and hungry, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as he whispered, "Don't make me ask again."

You bit your lip, your gaze fluttering to the side, a clear sign of your defeat. Satoru's eyes lit up with satisfaction, and a slow, almost predatory smile spread across his lips. "Good girl~" he purred, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach flip.

Without wasting a moment, his hands moving with an almost practiced ease as he helped you get situated on his lap. His teammates' shouts grew louder, their voices crackling through the headset as they realized he was barely playing, his movements on screen sluggish and inattentive.

"Gojo, what the hell are you doing?"

"Dude, focus! We're gonna lose!"

But Satoru didn't care. His attention was almost entirely on you, his gaze heated as he watched you with an intensity that made your skin tingle.

With one arm, he easily lifted you up, his strength almost dizzying as he held you aloft, giving you just enough space to quickly throw off your shorts and underwear.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, the cool air hitting your heated skin making you shiver as you tried to compose yourself.

You moved to straddle him again, your body desperate for the closeness, but he was quicker, his hands gripping your waist firmly. "Whoa, slow it down, babe," he teased, his voice light and teasing as he held you back, his grip strong enough to keep you still.

You gasped as he ran his long, deft fingers along your slit, the touch light and teasing, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. Your legs instinctively tried to close, but his body was in the way, his hips and thighs keeping you spread open for him. "Babe—"

"Shh," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as he chuckled lowly. "Such a reactive girl. At least someone’s not mad at me." His words were laced with a smug satisfaction that made your heart race even faster, and before you could respond, he leaned in, licking up the side of your neck in a slow, deliberate motion that left you trembling.

His fingers continued their exploration, each movement deliberate and slow, teasing you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He found your entrance, his fingers sliding through your slickness, his touch almost reverent as he circled you with a gentle but insistent pressure.

You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, your body already aching for more as he continued his slow, torturous teasing.

"Look at you," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed your neck, his lips trailing along your collarbone. "Already so wet for me, and I've barely even touched you."

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. "Satoru, please—"

"Hmm?" He tilted his head slightly, his eyes glinting with a playful cruelty as he slipped one long finger inside you, the motion so slow, so deliberate, that it made you gasp. "Please what, baby?"

You whimpered, your body arching into his touch as he added a second finger, his thumb brushing lightly against your clit in a way that made your vision blur. He moved with an easy confidence, his fingers curling inside you, finding that spot that made your toes curl and your breath hitch.

"More?" he teased, his voice a low, mocking whisper as he pressed his thumb down harder, his fingers curling just right. "Is this what you wanted?"

You could barely think, your body already unraveling under his touch. He made it seem so effortless, the way he played you like an instrument, each movement calculated to draw the sweetest sounds from your lips.

You felt yourself tightening around his fingers, the pleasure building with each swipe of his thumb, each curl of his fingers.

It didn't take much for you to come undone, your body shuddering as he worked you through it, his lips pressing against your jaw, your neck, his words a constant, filthy murmur in your ear that only made you fall apart faster.

You could feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him as he kept his pace steady, his fingers relentless as he coaxed every last bit of pleasure from you.

And all the while, his teammates were still shouting through the headset, their voices a distant, almost surreal background noise as you lost yourself in the sensation, in him.

But Satoru didn't care. He had you exactly where he wanted you—right in his arms, every breathless moan, every shuddering gasp his to command.

You slumped against his chest, your breath coming in slow, uneven waves as the satisfaction curled through your body, making you feel warm and languid in his hold. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, the rapid beat of his heart thrumming under your ear.

You could still feel the faint aftershocks of pleasure rippling through you, your body trembling slightly as you tried to catch your breath.

But your reprieve didn't last long.

You felt Satoru's fingers tapping lightly against your lower spine, the touch almost teasing as he let out a low, breathless chuckle. "Didn't forget about me, did you, princess?" His voice was smooth, almost mocking, and you could feel the underlying heat in his words, the need that was barely restrained.

He shifted under you, his hips rolling up slightly to press against your core, and you couldn't help the way your breath hitched as you felt the prominent bulge beneath you, the hard line of him pressing against your bare skin.

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze, his eyes dark and hungry as they trailed over your flushed face. You bit your lip, your hands moving to grip his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself, your body still weak and trembling. But he didn't give you much time to recover, his hands sliding down to your hips as he adjusted your position, his movements firm and insistent.

The friction of his sweatpants against your skin sent a shiver through you, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, the steady throb of his arousal pressing against your entrance.

Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, and you took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself as you lifted yourself up slightly, giving him just enough room to free himself from the confines of his sweats.

With a quick, practiced motion, he pushed the waistband of his sweatpants down, his cock springing free and slapping against his lower abdomen.

It was impressive—long and thick, the skin flushed a deep red at the tip, a bead of precum oozing from the slit. A faint white trail of hair led down from his lower abdomen, drawing your eyes down the length of him, and you could feel your mouth go dry at the sight. It twitched against his stomach, the movement almost impatient as it stood proudly between you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a strange mix of excitement and anticipation coiling low in your belly as you looked down at him. The sight of him like this, so exposed, so needy, made your own body react instinctively, your core clenching around nothing as you felt the heat building between your thighs again.

Satoru let out a low, shaky breath, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your reaction, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "See something you like?" he teased, his voice a low, breathy murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. He lifted his hand, his fingers trailing up your thigh as he gripped your waist, guiding you closer. "Don't be shy, baby."

You swallowed hard, your hands moving to his chest as you shifted in his lap, your eyes flicking between his face and the length of him, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to process what you were about to do.

He was watching you with that same dark, intense gaze, his pupils blown wide with lust as he leaned back slightly, giving you the space you needed.

You took a deep breath, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached down, your eyes never leaving his as you positioned yourself above him. You could feel his hands on your hips, his grip almost bruising as he held you steady, his breath coming in quick, shallow pants as he watched you with a mixture of anticipation and impatience.

"W-Wait—" you started, your voice barely a whisper, but he cut you off, his grip tightening as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Don't keep me waiting, princess," he murmured, his voice rough and needy as he kissed the side of your neck. "I've been patient long enough."

Your body shuddered at his words, your heart racing as you nodded, your hands moving to grip his shoulders as you slowly began to lower yourself onto him.

You could feel the stretch, the slow, delicious burn as he filled you, your breath catching in your throat as you took him in inch by inch, your body trembling with the effort.

He let out a low, guttural groan, his head falling back against the couch as his eyes fluttered shut, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided you down onto him. "Fuck! Yeah, that's it, baby," he breathed, his voice strained and rough. "Just like that."

You could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched you, filled you, the sensation almost overwhelming as you finally settled in his lap, your body flush against his.

He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath as he looked up at you, his eyes dark and half-lidded, a small, almost dazed smile on his lips.

"There you go," he murmured, his hands moving up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks as he looked at you with a mixture of awe and desire. "Such a good girl for me."

You could only lick your lips, your own eyes dazed with lust as you stared up at him, feeling completely intoxicated by the sensation of him filling you so perfectly.

It was like he was made for you, every inch of him fitting just right, and you could barely think past the haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

You felt weightless, almost dizzy, and it took everything in you just to keep breathing, your chest heaving as you tried to steady yourself.

Satoru took a few more seconds, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, his eyes drinking in the sight of you on him as if committing this moment to memory.

But then his entire expression shifted, his eyes narrowing, the gentle touch of his hands replaced by a firm grip on your waist. He suddenly jolted his hips up in a sharp, powerful thrust, his fingers digging into your skin as you gasped, your body arching in response.

With his other hand, he picked up the controller, his lips pulling up into a wicked smirk as he leaned back against the couch, his posture casual, almost lazy, despite the intensity of his gaze.

"Alright, baby," he murmured, his voice low and taunting. "Time to ride."

You couldn't even respond, your body moving almost on its own as you began to follow his command, your legs trembling as you lifted yourself up and then sank back down onto him. The sensation was overwhelming, each movement sending a fresh wave of heat through you as you felt him stretch and fill you again and again.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for support, your nails digging into his skin as you moved slowly, your body vibrating with every slight jolt of his hips as he met your movements with his own.

You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the pleasure building with each roll of your hips, each shift of your weight.

Satoru's reaction was almost maddening.

He was still playing the game, his eyes half-lidded as he focused on the screen, his fingers moving over the controller with a practiced ease. But his breathing was heavier now, each inhale a little sharper, a little more labored.

Every now and then, a small groan would escape his lips, his fingers tightening on the controller as he struggled to keep his focus. But he was still holding it together, still managing to play the game, his gaze flicking between you and the screen as if he were watching both of his worlds collide in the most delicious way.

It was almost infuriating, the way he could be so composed, so focused, even as you were falling apart on top of him.

You could feel the frustration and desire swirling inside you, the steady rise and fall of your hips turned into something more desperate, more needy.

You started to grind down against him, your body trembling with the effort, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you chased that high, the friction of him inside you almost too much, and yet not nearly enough.

You bit down on his shoulder, your teeth sinking into his skin just enough to muffle the sounds threatening to spill from your lips as you rocked against him, the pleasure continuing to build.

The warmth inside you was almost unbearable now, the pressure building with each desperate grind of your hips. Your thoughts were dissolving, your mind consumed by the need to reach the end.

But Satoru, damn him, was still so composed, so infuriatingly in control, even as his breath hitched and his muscles tensed beneath your touch. He was watching you with that same dark, intense gaze, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile as he leaned back, his fingers digging into your waist as he guided you, his voice low and teasing as he murmured, "That's it, baby. Don't stop. Show me how much you need it."

And you did, your body moving faster, more erratic as you chased that high, your eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure built to a dizzying peak.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your whole body trembling with the effort, and you knew you were close, so close, but you needed more.

You needed him.

Before you could say anything, Satoru's hips jolted up in a sudden, forceful thrust, hitting a spot deep inside you that had you letting out a sharp squeak, your entire body tensing as you clenched around him.

The reaction it pulled from him was immediate—a low, whiny groan slipping from his lips, his head falling back against the couch, eyes squeezing shut as he felt the tight squeeze of you around him.

That sound—it sent you spiraling, your mind going blank with the need to hear it again, to feel that desperate intensity between you.

You could barely catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him, his features twisted in a mix of pleasure and restraint.

The sounds of your bodies moving together, the wet, obscene noises of him thrusting into you filled the room, almost drowning out the distant shouts from his headset.

The headset he'd been wearing slipped down to his neck, hanging awkwardly as the commotion and shouts from his teammates on the other end grew quieter, almost like they were stunned into silence by what they were hearing. But Satoru didn't seem to care anymore, his grip on the controller loosening until he finally just threw it to the side, muttering a rough "Fuck it," under his breath.

He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you steady, and then he began thrusting up into you with a pace that left you breathless, his movements quick and forceful, each stroke long and deep.

You couldn't hold back the sounds now, your voice coming out in a series of warbled, wanton moans that felt too loud, too raw, filling the space around you.

You tried to bite down on his shirt to muffle the noise, but it was impossible, your whole body shuddering with each powerful thrust, your mind lost to the pleasure coursing through you.

In the back of your mind, a small, fleeting thought reminded you that his teammates could probably hear everything, but the haze of lust and pleasure had made it impossible to care. All that mattered was him, the way he was moving inside you, the way he was filling you so completely, so perfectly, that it left you trembling.

"Gods, you feel so fucking good," he growled, his voice rough and breathless as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "So tight, so wet... squeezing me like you never want to let go."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the filthy praise, the heat pooling low in your belly as he continued to thrust up into you, each movement more desperate, more intense than the last. "You like that, huh?" he whispered, his voice low and almost cruel as he rocked his hips up again, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "Like being my good girl?"

You could only nod, your head falling forward as you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to hold on, tried to keep yourself together. But he was relentless, his pace punishing as he fucked up into you, his hands guiding you, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"Come on, baby, don't hold back now," he murmured, his voice dripping with that dark, teasing lilt that made your whole body thrum with need. "Let me hear how good I make you feel. Let me hear what a mess you are for me."

His words broke something inside you, your body shaking as you moaned loudly, your head falling back as the pleasure washed over you, overwhelming and all-consuming.

You could feel him shifting, his hand moving between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, quick circles that had you seeing stars.

Satoru's hips slammed into you, his thrusts fast and rough, his breath coming in harsh pants as he continued to fuck you, his fingers working you with a skill that made your head spin.

You could feel the pressure building, the heat coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable, your entire body trembling as you teetered on the edge.

"Gonna cum for me, baby?" he growled, his voice strained, his teeth grazing against your neck as he kept up that relentless pace, his hand never stopping its assault on your clit. "Come on, I know you're close. Be a good girl and cum for me. Let me feel you."

His words were your undoing, the last push you needed as your body tensed, your breath catching in your throat as you shattered around him.

You could barely hear yourself, your moans loud and desperate as you came, your entire body shaking with the force of it, your mind going blank as the pleasure crashed over you in waves.

Satoru wasn't far behind, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more frantic as he chased his own release.

With a final, deep thrust, he let out a low, filthy groan, his head falling back against the couch as he came, his body trembling beneath yours as he filled you completely.

You could feel the heat of him, the way he pulsed inside you, his breath ragged as he held you close, his hands still gripping your hips as he rode out his own high.

With nothing but your shared pants filling the room, Satoru shifted you gently, the movement drawing soft whines and groans from both of you as the overstimulation hit like a shockwave.

He carefully adjusted his position, cupping your face with one hand, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek.

You looked up at him, your vision hazy with the lingering remnants of pleasure, and saw the gentle concern etched into his features. His usually playful eyes were soft, almost vulnerable, as he searched your face.

"I'm really sorry for ignoring you earlier," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, almost hesitant as if he were afraid you might still be upset. "I hope you aren't still mad at me."

You managed a tired smile, the corners of your lips lifting as you leaned up to press a soft, chaste kiss to his chin, the best you could reach in your current state.

Your body felt heavy, languid, the exhaustion of everything catching up to you. "It's okay, 'Toru" you whispered, your voice hoarse but sincere. "We both get hyperfocused sometimes. Just... let's try to plan days like this better, okay?"

This was just how Satoru was—easily distracted, but always committed to seeing things through.

You couldn't really fault him for it, not when it was one of the things you loved most about him. "I know you don't mean to ignore me, but just... talk to me. Let me know when you're in the zone like this, and we can work around it."

He nodded, his eyes soft as he listened, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a slow, comforting motion. "Yeah, you're right. I'll do better. Promise."

Before either of you could say anything else, a voice crackled through the headset still hanging around his neck, the sound startling in the quiet, intimate space.

"Shiiiit, the way y'all were fucking, I hope she still not mad either!"

The rest of his teammates erupted into laughter, their voices loud and boisterous as they teased and joked, clearly unbothered by the fact that they’d been privy to far more than they’d bargained for.

Your eyes widened in shock, your heart leaping into your throat as you stared at Satoru, his expression mirroring your own.

For a split second, you were both frozen, caught between embarrassment and disbelief.

Then, with a hasty curse under his breath, Satoru reached over, fumbling with the headset as he tried to switch it off, his fingers slipping in his rush. "Goddamn it," he muttered, finally managing to yank it off and toss it aside, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

You couldn't help it—the absurdity of the situation, the sheer ridiculousness of being caught like this by his friends, it all came crashing down on you, and before you knew it, you were laughing, the sound breathless and a little hysterical as you buried your face in his chest.

Satoru looked down at you, his lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face, but the sound of your laughter was infectious, and soon he was joining in, his laughter a low, rumbling sound that made his chest vibrate against yours.

"I can't believe this," you managed to gasp between giggles, your shoulders shaking as you clung to him. "I'm never gonna be able to look at them again."

He shook his head, still chuckling as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. "Don't worry, baby. I'll just have to kick their asses next time we play.”

You snorted, your laughter finally calming as you rested your head against his shoulder, the embarrassment still there, but tempered now by the warmth of his embrace. "You're unbelievable."

"Yeah, but you love me," he teased, his voice soft and teasing as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

"Yeah..." You sighed, your heart swelling with affection as you snuggled closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your cheek. "...I do."

"Good," he murmured, his voice a gentle murmur against your hair. "Because I love you too."

And for a moment, everything else faded away—the embarrassment, the laughter, the lingering heat of what had just happened.

All that mattered was the warmth of his arms around you, the steady beat of his heart, and the quiet, undeniable truth that no matter what, you'd always be his, and he'd always be yours.

A/N: y'all i think i'm broken, i can't seem to write straight forward smut without making a plot w/ it 😭😭💔 i hope y'all don't get tired of me doing it, but my mind won't let me get freaky until i picture it all like a movie 😔

[thyras]

→ your divine

PAIRING → mairon | halbrand | annatar (sauron) x f!elf!reader

WORD COUNT → 6.6k words

WARNINGS → 18+ mdni - dark!reader, soft!sauron (even if that is possible), smut, some plot, masturbation, murder, reader has trauma, mentions of blood, blood drinking, possessiveness, unprotected p in v, choking, biting (marking), oral (fem receiving), confessions, breeding kink.

SUMMARY → you have been sauron's betrothed since the days of old, his faithful servant. you spend your days carrying out his plans in Eregion, but with each passing century, you long for your husband's awaiting arms until one day you finally get your wish.

AUTHOR'S NOTE → this is deranged and will be a two parter because this was already so long. i feel like sauron would not ever want to have children but for the sake of this lets just imagine otherwise. reader is dark but only when she needs to be. i was inspired by @just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace to take on writing a dark!reader fic. hope y'all enjoy.

FIC MASTERLIST → NEXT PART

Centuries passed, and you kept playing your part well. You grew into your role as a healer in Eregion. But the pain always lingered. You missed your husband and longed to feel him underneath your fingertips again. Feel his taste on your lips as he drove into you at a toe-curling pace like in the days of old. When you both were free to indulge in each other for days.

Never to know the longing of separation.

You were standing in the courtyard talking with Mirdania when you felt the sweet pull of something you had not felt in centuries—your husband. It made you turn quickly, expecting those dark, shadowy fingers to crawl up your spine before wrapping themselves around your neck in the act of possession. When the feeling wanes, you feel your heart clenching and aching at the flicker of longing you now feel again.

Mirdania notices your change in demeanor and touches your shoulder softly, pulling you out of your thoughts. You turn to her and smile, putting your mask back on as quickly as it recedes.

"Is everything okay?" she asks. You nod before returning to your earlier conversation when the sound of hooves alerted you both to turn toward the lower courtyard. A white horse and chestnut appear as the guards, Elrond and Celebrimbor, move to greet the unexpected visitors.

Your feet become glued to the cobblestone when you see the rider and feel the pull of his shadowy mind against your own. He was injured if the stain of red on his tunic and the pale face of a man riddled with sickness was any tell. But you knew that your husband was an excellent deceiver and had a particular fondness for deceiving elves. A dark smile twisted underneath your own illusion as the thoughts of his deception towards you, memories of that first awakening surfacing.

In ages passed, after the first awakening, your kin were offered passage to the Undying Lands by the great Oromë after Melkor’s defeat. But a dark deceiver had already infiltrated your heart and mind by that time. Planting seeds of darkness and a lust for power. You had always been a rebellious soul, and he fed off that.

His dark claws sunk into you until you were nothing more than a Moriquendi, an elf of the dark. The dark followed you and faded your light until no more than the shimmer in your hair was left.

So when it came time to leave, Oromë stopped you and exposed your secret to your kin. Horrified by the sight of you and your deception, Oromë gave your kin a choice; cleanse or destroy you if they wished to journey with the rest to Valinor in three days.

Your kin, eager to reach the Undying Lands after the war, decided it would be easier to destroy you than heal what was already so corrupted. He came to you in his shadowy form on the second and final night. Fingers caressing your torn and tattered face. You were accepting of his touch.

“What have they done?” his form breathed. You looked up at him, the face of your lover appearing. The soft, gentle, elven face and long reddish hair of his fair form.

“Mairon,” you struggled to breathe against the collar around your neck. Chains shackled you to the walls, and in that moment, you knew by the look in those dark eyes he would do what you craved so desperately for. Destruction and revenge for your kin’s greed.

When they came for you, he slaughtered them like animals before anyone could even lay a finger on you. The sight was wicked and cruel to anyone but you. To witness your lover wreak havoc on the people who wished to end you was intoxicating. It did not matter that he slaughtered your family or friends; they were already dead to you.

In one final act, your lover drug the leader of your kin to the center of the square by his hair, forcing him to kneel, tilting his head up so he could look at the destruction around him. “Look what one mere man can do,”

“You are no man,” the leader choked out his bloodied mouth, spitting some of it onto the ground. “You are him, Sauron, the Abhorred, Morgoth’s faithful lieutenant.” You watched as that dark, nebulous smile rose on his lips before the leader looked at you. “He’s corrupted you for his own gain, young one. He will discard you after he has no use for you anymore.”

You shook your head and stood a little taller. “And why should I believe you when you were so quick to murder me for immortality?” You reached down and picked up a discarded blade beside your feet. In one final breath, you drove it through his gut and watched as the light of the Valar began to fade from his eyes.

“Why?” The elf choked out as blood fell from his lips. You look up at your lover, whose dark eyes sparkled with adoration and intoxicating pleasure. You were his. The life you took was the final piece to welcoming the darkness entirely.

“He gave me what none of you could not.” Your lover's hand moved to cup your chin as he released the dying man, bringing your lips to his before you spoke again. “Divine purpose,”

Mirdania moving past you quickly to help brought you out of your twisted memory. You watched as the guards helped him off the horse and carried him into the tower. It would cause alarm if you rushed down as Mirdania had done, so you make your way moments later.

"What has happened?" you asked Elrond as you finally reached him.

"It appears Lady Galadriel never went to Valinor. " You had heard of her but only in passing whispers. She was an Eldar and had come from Valinor after the Great War. The only person that would have any knowledge of your husband’s slaughter of your woodland kin. “And now she has brought the King of the Southlands with her." You could not help the pulsing in your heart as you realized the grand plan was now coming to fruition, and you could rest easy that you would have him even for a brief time.

"I am sure I will be needed," you said, picking up your skirts and starting towards the stone stairs. "Can you send for my assistants, Lord Elrond?" He inclined his head before turning away. The pulsing in your ears and your heart caused you to take quickened paces toward him, following the sweet thread of your bond through the tower.

Once you were close enough to feel the pulsing of his own yearning for you, your feet slowed, and you made sure your mask was firmly in place before entering the room.

There he laid. In his new form, this time a man. His hair was coppery bronze that hung around his face in waves while a light coating of stubble covered his cheeks and chin. You had never minded whatever form he took, but you were always pleased whenever he took on the fair faces and tall, lean bodies. It added to your yearning for him.

You stepped into the room, causing Galadriel to turn as the guards left. Surprise flashed across her face as you strode past her.

Any elf could feel your dark choice to remain in Middle-Earth. But none could feel the dark bond you shared with the evil they sought to rid the world of.

You inclined your head to her and pushed up the sleeves of your robes before making it over to him. He turned his head and let a brief smile touch the corner of his lips as he took you in. His beloved wife was here to mend him once again. You moved to lift up the blood-stained shirt and saw the sprawling wound there. The dark lines of infection ran away from it. You reached to touch it, and he winced at the touch. So, it was a very well-crafted illusion.

"How long has it been?" you asked as your two assistants brushed past her, and Elrond appeared behind them. They set your supplies on the table next to you as they unpacked and laid them out.

"Six days, enemy lance. We rode with haste and without rest," she said before turning to speak with Elrond. You turned your attention back to the man lying in the bed. You pulled on the dark thread to tell him he would be well again. He swallowed hard, and you could tell he was trying so hard not to take your hand into his. The centuries apart finally caught up to him.

You and your assistants worked tirelessly to heal the wound. Once it was in a place that you could manage on your own, you dismissed the two younger elves and were finally left alone with your husband, who was now being cheeky and pretending to be asleep.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, my love; they are all gone." You said playfully as you moved your chair a little closer so you could wipe the sweat away from his forehead with a damp cloth. His eyes opened, and a thin smile touched his lips. "Very convincing," you motioned to the scar now on his side. "You inflict that yourself, or was it just a genuine illusion?" He squeezed your hand. The wedding ring on your finger pressed against the palm of his hand before he brought it up to kiss.

"A Maia does not reveal all his tricks," Your face warmed slightly as he moved to kiss your wrist, his lips caressing the scar on your wrist from when you had bound yourself to each other. It sent a shiver down your spine as his lips lingered there before you felt the tip of his tongue trace across it. You held back a whimper as your eyes closed. "I've missed you, my beloved,"

Your eyes fluttered open, and you moved to cup his stubble-covered cheek, lips leaning in to hover over his. Both of your breaths mixed for the first time in centuries as your thumb caressed his cheek. Eyes locked with each other. "I've missed you as well, husband,"

The long-awaited climax to your reunion came when you pressed your lips against his, hungry for his taste against you. Your lips moved in a passionate rhythm before he lifted his free hand to wrap around the back of your neck, lacing his fingers in your silky hair. A low growl rumbled in his chest as your tongue pushed past his lips, tasting the fiery scent he always carried with him. He pressed you harder into him as your other hand moved to run through the sprinkling of dark brown chest hair.

You fought the urge to climb onto him and straddle his hips before sinking yourself onto him and taking him to the hilt like you had craved to do each and every night since you both had parted ways centuries ago to protect your identity and facade of a mourning elf who had lost her kin to the evil, Sauron.

It was quickly over before you blinked, and you longed for much more; his lips left yours only for him to pull against your bottom lip between his teeth. Tempting you even more, your hand moved to wrap around his neck as a low growl left your lips. A chuckle left his lips before he spoke.

"It would look suspicious if you linger here for any longer. I'll be fine." He breathed. "We can speak more in the morning." You gave him a slight pout before he smiled and ran his thumb against your bottom lip. "Always so insatiable,"

"Well, I have not seen you in centuries," you breathed as a dark smile filled your lips in preparation for what was about to leave your lips. "And doing everything myself with only memories grew tiresome."

A dark smile touched his own as he tsked and gripped your chin tight. "Always the temptress," he said seductively, as you looked down at him. Then, playfully, nipped at his thumb.

"But you love it," He chuckled softly before releasing you. "For it was the reason you became so smitten with me," You paused and hovered over his lips once again. "For I am the only one to have ever tempted the Dark Lord himself into doing my bidding." You ran your index finger underneath his coarse chin. He visibly shuttered and hummed against the touch as you moved your finger down his throat.

"And I would fall for it every time if it meant I got to ravage the woman that holds my dark soul in her clutches." Your face warmed, and your finger stopped when you leaned in once again to give him a parting kiss.

"Until the sun rises and the moon sets, you will be the only thing on my mind." You said, adjusting your gown and robes before laying the damp cloth into your basket. You snatched it up and moved to the door before turning to gaze upon his lazy, blissed form.

"Still as sweet and silvery-lipped as you were all those centuries ago, I can't wait to feel them around me." That dark smile he loved so much returned to your lips. His prolonging of this departure for someone who wanted to keep suspicions low was amusing.

But that’s what the mere sight of you did.

If eyes could ravage you, then his would be doing so now.

"I would say get some sleep, but we both know there will be none of that." He chuckled and waved you off.

"Good night, my beloved wife." You picked up your skirts and started down the dark corridor.

It was not long before you felt the cold, dark shadow following you out into the courtyard. You shook your head and turned to look up at the flickering light in the room you had just left. You could not see him, but you felt him in your bones and could not wait to feel him inside you.

The sun rose, and you began preparing to tend to your 'wounded' guest. You could not help but feel the anticipation building in your chest as you put together a fresh basket of linen and clothing for him. It was like in those days after you wed and found the peace you both searched for, indulging in each other's pleasures and carnal desires endlessly. The childish games he would indulge in just for you made your knees weak and your core turn as it twisted in anticipation for his soul to connect with yours. Old memories surfaced as you tugged on that invisible dark thread, tying you together in destiny.

Laughter left your lips as you ran behind a tree, trying to control your racing pulse so he had no chance of finding you. Your hand went over your mouth as if to control your breathing. A smile on your lips as you felt the first tug of your bond against your mind. He was close, and you were torn with desire, but this was a game of patience.

You closed your eyes and felt the wet ache of your womanhood at the thought of his hands caressing your body, fingers wrapping around your neck as those dark silted irises of the viper he was stared down at you in feral hunger. You took this chance to pick up your long velvet and silk skirts. Your own long, delicate fingers moved to push aside your underthings before tracing against your soaked entrance.

Your body came a light at the thought of his touch inside of yours. One finger became two, moving in a rhythm that had the squelching sound of your needy cunt filling the forest. Your other hand rubbed against your swollen pearl, bringing out a whimpered plea of his name, tempting him ever so slightly more.

"Little temptress?" his voice carried through the forest. "You can't hide forever. I can smell you doing what only my fingers can achieve." Another tug on your bond, and you could hear leaves crunching underneath his boots. You moaned against his filthy words before pulling out of yourself just as the heat of your climax kissed your core.

You wanted him to bring you to climax, but you also wanted to torture him. So you cleaned your drippings from your fingers with a quick lick of your fingers. His voice hummed as he neared. “Do you taste good, little one?” Your eyes slammed shut as the words were true, but you tasted even better against his fingertips.

You took this chance to pick up your heavy skirts and move away from the tree you had been hiding behind, heart racing as you ran further into the forest away from your beloved husband.

Once you came into view, a feral growl sounded through the forest, and his dark shadow started following you until you felt his arms snatch you up. It caused you to trip over your skirts, and both of you fell into a heap of limbs and cloth. "A fair, virtuous elven maiden such as yourself should not be touching herself like that, the scandal that would cause if anyone were to wander upon us.” he breathed against your tresses. A smile filled your lips as he encased your frame, breathing heavily like he had been running for ages.

Your lashes lowered, and you ran your index finger across his plump bottom lip and down his chin before moving back up to part his lips with your nail. His eyes became darkened and full of feral hunger, like some wolf ready to sink his teeth into its fresh prey as he took in the scent of your arousal on the tips of your fingers.

"Mmm," you hummed, eyes closing as you reached down and pulled up your skirts, revealing the delicate skin of your thighs covered in a light sheen of arousal dripping from your needy heat. He let out a low warning growl at your motion. "Then shall the Dark Lord take this fair maiden's virtue and taint her with the darkness?" Your eyes fluttered open just as his lips crashed upon yours, drawing out the air in your lungs and forcing you to press your body against him. His hand moved to run up the soft, damp skin of your upper thigh. Shivers ran down your spine as his tongue broke through your lips, taking in the taste of your sweet arousal. The kiss only lasted for a moment until his lips started down your jaw and then your neck. Your fingers moved to wind themselves into the reddish tresses of his hair.

"Such a devious little creature," he breathed against your neck before he raked his teeth against the skin, causing you to yank on the roots of his hair and produce a growl from him. The hunger built as fingers swiped through your wet folds; the stimulating touch caused you to roll your hips against him, craving the friction he was denying you. His free hand slammed you into the forest floor causing you to yelp in surprise.

"I learned from the best,"

Your face warmed as the memory slipped away, and you slipped out of your modest abode toward the forge where your husband was still being kept. Elves walked around you as you tried to keep your pace casual. Your eyes traveled across the beautiful streets of Eregion.

This had been your home for a few centuries back when Celebrimbor’s ancestors first settled here. They welcomed you and gave you a refuge from your twisted past. You watched as your husband’s plan began to unfold. The madness already brewing against the family that held lordship over these lands.

The family never suspecting of your true loyalty.

And your purpose here.

Out of the periphery of your eye, you saw Lady Galadriel's shimmering white hair walking across the courtyard. She was deep in thought by how she walked and her rigid posture. Something was amiss with her, something that you could tell was troubling her mind.

Your husband’s manipulation ran rampant against her mind. You could tell she had been ever willing to hang on to every enticing word that left his lips.

You continued your journey and finally made your way into the forge. To your mild surprise, you saw both your husband and Celebrimbor talking. Sensing your arrival, both men turned when you entered the forge; you gave them a light bow before Celebrimbor motioned you over.

Your husband's gaze followed you the whole way over, the tendrils of his dark web crawling up your back and across your shoulders as he explored every inch of you. Pulling at your desire and lust for him to be buried between your thighs, withering underneath his touch.

It was almost impossible to keep your mask on for Celebrimbor, but you could torture him later.

And the chaos that would cause.

Such delightful chaos.

"Good morning, my lord; I am surprised to see our guest up after I strictly told him to rest for a few days." You turned your gaze to your husband and gave him a scowl to keep up with your carefully crafted facades.

"It is my fault," Celebrimbor said warmly. "Lord Halbrand was just giving me some inspiration for a project, and I seemed to have gotten carried away." He gave you both a slight bow before returning down the corridor as he mumbled to himself about something.

When he was out of elven hearing, you spoke up. "For someone who does not want to raise suspicion, you sure are doing a horrible job." You move to take his forearm and walk you both over to the darkened corridor.

"I got bored," he said with a devilishly playful smile. You sighed and shook your head.

Why did you always have to be his rational conscience?

"And the last time you got bored," You poked at his chest. "I had to clean up your mess." He took your hand into his and brought it up to his lips.

"And I am eternally grateful for it, but," he paused and reached with his other hand to take your chin into his fingers. "Trust me, there will be no mess to clean up this time, only reward. And then we shall have forever to indulge in our pleasures after we are King and Queen of this land," You smiled darkly up at him.

"Promise?"

"With all my heart," He released you and motioned down the corridor to where he had been staying. "Now I do think we need to keep our little rouse up."

You take the lead, and before you know it, he has scooped you up bridal style as your basket of linen fell to the floor, leaving a pile of cloth in your wake. He carried you through the threshold of his room before depositing you onto the bed unceremoniously. You leaned up and watched as he closed the door and locked it.

"But won't you be missed?" you said as you moved to be on all fours. “Celebrimbor and Lady Galadriel shall surely miss you. They seem so smitten with you.” The yearning and dark lust was palpable in the air of the small room. You reach up to take the rim of his pants into your fingers, yanking him over to the edge of the bed.

"Hardly," he took your chin into his calloused hand before tilting your head to meet his gaze. "I'm more worried about whether Eregion's sweet, innocent healer will be missed." You lowered your lashes and gave his pants a light tug.

"Hardly," you repeated his answer and licked your bottom lip. You ached to feel the heaviness of him in your mouth and slide your tongue up his length, knowing all the areas that would gift you with those precious sounds and dirty Black Speech endearments. "She's out of the office for the remainder of the morning. And plus, my assistants are perfectly capable of managing without me."

Your husband pulled your gaze back to meet his. It did not matter if he changed appearances or faces; that dark, feral gaze he produced whenever you were your playful, temptress self was always the same. But this face was slowly becoming one of your favorites, the dampness already collecting in your undergarments as you reached up to move your hand across the growing appendage in the fabric of his pants.

You licked your lips as his eyes closed, and he released your face. "Will my husband let me worship him like I have begged to do in those lonely nights?"

"Yes," he breathed out as your hand slipped between the rim of his pants. But before you could continue, he had your back against the bed. Dark eyes watching intently as yours grew in surprise. "But first, I wish to worship my faithful wife for her patience and effort." His hands wrapped around your neck just enough to ignite the fire in your belly that had been brewing since last night. You arch yourself in the pressured grasp as if you were showing off the most beautiful necklace in the realm. The necklace you ached for.

Finally, his mouth was on yours, and your fingers began winding into his coppery waves, pulling on the roots as his hand tightened around your neck. Your mouths fought for dominance, trying to quench a thirst that had built up in you both for centuries.

Yearning to feel body against body, mind against mind, and soul against soul. You tugged at his hair again and pushed your mouth against his harder, nipping at the skin until you could taste the black liquor of his blood coating your sweet lips.

He tasted so godly to you, and you swallowed each drop of the darkness like the faithful wife you were. After a few moments, he broke away and took your bottom lip between his teeth before tracing the blackness off both your lips. You obediently took his finger into your mouth and licked it clean. A growl rumbled in his chest as he gazed upon your obscene gesture. "I am going to make a mess of you," he promised. "Make you fall apart repeatedly, like the days of old."

You let a whimper escape your lips as he released your neck, and open-mouthed kisses replaced it. His tongue lapped up the sweet, tender skin there. "Hus—" you barely got out before his teeth met the delicate skin of your neck and began to suck against the skin.

"Mark you so no man may gaze upon your beauty and have any doubt you are bound to my soul." Your eyes slammed shut as you felt the searing pain of his teeth breaking the skin. His tongue lapped at the blood pooling there. "My beautiful elven wife," A moan escaped your lips before you pressed your body against his, the barrier of fabric almost too much. You craved to feel his bare skin against yours and take in all this form had to offer.

He continued down your shoulder before ripping at the fabric of your dress until it was torn down to your stomach, revealing the divine wonder of your breasts to him for the first time in centuries. You ran your tongue across your swollen bottom lip as he gazed at you in the morning sun.

His heart finally felt whole again as he gazed down at you, eating up your form and the light trickle of blood down your chest from where he had bit too hard. Your skin was so soft and warm underneath his calloused hands, the skin of the woman he gave his soul to. He leaned in, and his lips lapped up the trail of your sickly, sweet blood.

"Love?" you asked, concerned, pulling his face to meet your gaze. Your husband moved to cup your soft cheek and ran his thumb against your cheekbone. Your eyes were growing just as dark as his at this moment. The power that coursed through him was now coursing through you, the bond strengthening with each touch, kiss, or taste of your body.

"My divine, let me destroy you," he breathed, leaning down to kiss your breastbone before placing a trail of open-mouthed kisses until he took your pebbled nipple between his lips, sucking on it eagerly before speaking again. "And take the last piece of your pureness."

He continued down to your stomach, where he finished ripping the rest of your garments from your body. Every mound of flesh was game to his mouth as your fingers moved to twine in those coppery strands again. Pulling and guiding him to where he was most needed.

Your husband's fingers trailed up the flesh of your thighs as he moved to kneel in front of the bed, propping your legs up and pulling you to the edge. The image of him on his knees sent your core pulsing, something that never ceased to get a reaction out of you. It was divine and sinfully powerful to see him there. Surrendering himself to you and his desire to kneel before his queen.

"You like it when I'm on my knees, don't you?" he taunted between your thighs. His breath tickled your swollen folds, causing you to falter for a moment—but only just a moment until you sat up, and your fingers yanked his head back. His cynical grin touched his lips as he gazed at your darkened expression. "There she is," he taunted against your tight grasp. "My queen," he chuckled with a dark undertone.

"If you are going to keep taunting me, I'd rather that silvery tongue of yours to be doing something else." Your husband obliged and leaned to kiss the slickness on your thighs, tasting the arousal and yearning you felt before. Before, in one swift movement, he had you gasping for air when his mouth met your swollen cunt.

Your back arched off the mattress, and your fingers moved to grip the bed linen as he showed you just what that darkly sweet tongue could do. You could not hold back the moans or whimpers of pleasure he pulled from those swollen lips.

It was not long before one dark finger split you open, and your cunt clenched against the unfamiliar touch. Your fingers clenched his hair as his finger rocked against you, the pad of his palm touching the sweet petal of your arousal tortuously. One became two as he replaced the pad of his hand with his thumb. His free arm moved to lay across your sternum, holding you captive on the mattress. His lips returned to yours, so you could enjoy the taste of your arousal as he continued to fuck you with his torturous motions inside you.

His corruption of you ran so deep that there was no mere mortal that could ever get you to turn against the darkness. You had the most powerful being in all of Middle-Earth between your thighs, and you were the only mortal he would kneel to.

Your fingers clawed at the linen; his name, his true name, hung on your lips, ready to be released into the world after centuries of quiet patience. Your back arched against his restraining grasp, signaling to him that you were close to your climax. His come here motions quickened, and you came hard over his fingers in a release of pent-up energy, clenching around him like you never wanted your bodies to part.

"Mairon," You whimpered in ecstasy. It was always the name he wed you with. Never Sauron or the countless other names he took on. And he took pleasure in that. The way your elven tongue and lips wrapped around the name made him want to move continents and oceans for you.

"Good girl," he breathed against your sensitive, well fucked cunt. "Always such a willing and well-behaved girl." He kissed your inner thigh, tongue lapping up your drippings before he smiled darkly and bit down on the delicate flesh, causing you to moan loudly again.

"Your version of 'well-behaved' and mine are not the same, husband," you said, breathless. He chuckled and leaned back over you, taking in your blissed expression and sparkling eyes as you gazed up at him.

"Mmmm," he hummed against your stomach as you ran your fingers through his tousled strands. "But I do enjoy when you misbehave because I hear my name fall off your lips repeatedly like a young maiden saying the sweetest prayer." You watched as your husband discarded every fabric upon his body to reveal the lean man underneath.

You moved to kneel on the bed and ran your fingers through the sprinkling of chest hair as he slipped out of his pants. His mouth met yours again as your fingers moved to run up through the hair at the nape of his neck, pressing his face against you. "Let me worship you," you breathed against his lips in between kisses as your hand moved to wrap around his jutting appendage. He hissed out a curse as you pumped the taut skin. "Let me show you how lonely each and every century was."

He tried to encase you with his form, but you hooked your leg around his waist and rolled him underneath you. Your hips now straddling him as you hovered over him, awaiting the time to sink your hips down and take him to the hilt, just as you had dreamed of. Both of you were breathless and yearned for this long-awaited reunion.

This had been all he could think about as he recovered his form: tasting your sweet skin against his lips and feeling your warmth around him. He had been patient and steadfast as he worked out his plan and finally returned to his wife when the time was right.

Once his hands were on your waist and you were cradling his face, you finally sunk your hips down until you felt the tip at your entrance, the pulsing of your cunt already eager for the stretch of him splitting you open.

“For all eternity,” he breathed. “I shall be bound to you.”

“Never to wander or forget the being I have vowed to trust, love, and obey.” You finished. The words of your vow to each other rang through both your minds.

It was like that first time again when you finally took him to the hilt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the pleasure of being complete by the being you gave your equally dark soul to. The being now resting in your grasp.

You began rolling your hips against him; the same spine-tingling touch of his dark fingers running up your spine filled you with even more urge to quicken your pace, but you kept an even rolling motion. Your husband moved to push some of your hair behind your ear as both of you struggled against the motions.

"Immortality always felt so hollowing," he breathed as you lowered your lips to his. "Until I met my elven princess, I turned into my dark queen." Your lips met his furiously until your pace quickened, and both your moans were being swallowed by each other's mouths. Pulling you in ever deeper to your awaiting climax.

As your bodies joined and you became one, you could feel his thoughts against your own. The feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him caused him to strain against your movements. Your smile darkened against his lips as you slowed even more. He growled and squeezed the flesh of your ass hard. “Behave, little temptress.” His teeth nipped your bottom lip, warning you.

“But I thought you liked it when I misbehaved, my lord,” You teased. He roughly pushed you onto your back and drove into you with an animalistic pace. Pulling squeals from your lips as he drove both your highs. Your fingers released his waves as he handcuffed your wrists above your head, sitting up. Your soft gaze watched his wanton expression fill his face as he took pleasure in how you felt around him. Your back arched into the thrusts, trying to meet his powerful thrusts. Drawing him deeper toward the door to your womb, where you wished to plant his seed.

You licked your lips at the sinful thought of being full and ripe with his child. You knew he never wanted children as he found it unsettling. Merely giving you the answer of what if our own creation was as powerful as him and seeked to destroy their parents in their quest for dominion over the realm of which you both created.

A valid concern. But it did not stop your longing for the sweet kicks and turns of a child nestled in your womb.

“Little one,” he breathed as his fingers tightened around your wrists and he leaned in. “I can feel those desires of yours and do I not give you enough?” You nodded softly before answering.

“But does the creation built out of our love and in our image not entice you, husband?” His lips hovered over you, and he slowed his thrusts to a more gentle pace. He took a moment to collect his thoughts.

“A creation that could take you from me, do you wish for me to suffer in my eternity of longing for you?” Tears formed in your eyes, and his eyes darkened at the sight. “Sweet wife,” he breathed before kissing away the tears. “If this is what you want, then I shall give you what you desire, but only if you promise not to leave me empty for eternity by your absence.”

“I promise,” He picked up his pace again and drew moans out from your sinful lips. Pleasure rose in you both at the feeling of him quenching your sinful desire. He always gave you what you wanted. Ravished you delicate trinkets and beautiful nights of connected bliss. But he could never say no to his wife. His bondmate.

He snaked his fingers between your heated bodies, rubbing the sensitive bud of arousal. Pulling his name out of your sweet lips. “Will it,” you breathed as he laid his forehead on yours. The rippling of your walls clenching around him as you were reaching your peak sent him into a frenzy until one last call of his name had you whithering underneath your orgasm.

He groaned against the pulsing and began thrusting into you more brutal, more feral, as he once again wished to mark you as his own. The sweet taste of his orgasm kissed at him before, in one ragged movement, he emptied into you, spilling his seed deeply into your womb. Your breathless plea for him to will it had him straining to release you. His hand wrapped around your throat, and he pulled out of you, leaving a trail of spend in his wake. Fingers moving to lap up the substance before meeting your withering cunt, pushing it into you. Every last drop of his mark, coating you.

He leaned into your ear as you whimpered in overstimulation of his large fingers still buried deep inside you. There was nothing he wished more than to see you happy and full. Those dark, sinful lips wrapped around your ear and spoke the words you had long desired for.

"I will it,"

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 4

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

Not proofread

Word count: 6k

Warnings: MDNI mentions of abortion (no procedure done), quick smut but a little more romantic

Other than that none- Rafe and Maybank are just super sweet with each other.

You wake up around 5 a.m., a habit you picked up in a desperate attempt to carve out a few precious moments of solitude before V wakes up. This early morning routine has become a sacred ritual for you; a chance to sip your coffee in peace and gather your thoughts. As you stir beneath the soft sheets, you momentarily forget that you’re wrapped in Rafe’s strong arms, a warmth that both comforts and constrains you. The gentle shift in your position seems to awaken him, and with a groggy voice, he murmurs, “Good morning. What the hell time is it?”

You glance at the clock, the numbers flickering softly in the dim light. “It’s 5 a.m., welcome to parenthood,” you reply with a teasing smirk. “No more sleeping until 2 in the afternoon, like we used to do during those nights of coke and tequila.” A wave of nostalgia washes over you, the memory of carefree days filled with reckless abandon now contrast against the responsibilities of parenthood.

Sitting upright, you feel the cool air against your skin, the bed sheets clinging to your torso as neither of you had the energy to bother getting fully dressed again. You turn to face Rafe, taking in his tousled hair and the hint of a sleepy smile on his face. “Do you want to get anything off your chest?” you ask, your voice gentle but probing.

Rafe sits up alongside you, and the sight of his biceps flexing as he pulls himself into an upright position sends a small thrill through you. You watch him closely, admiring the way he carries both strength and tenderness. “That thing your brother said last night…” he begins cautiously, lacing his fingers through yours, the warmth of his palm grounding you. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had… you know. But why didn’t you?”

The question about an abortion that didn’t even happen hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken tensions and emotions. You forced him and you to forget about it last night but it was impossible to not bring it up after the storm between the two of you settled. You know the weight of your brother’s words, how they lingered long after the night had ended. The tension in Rafe’s voice hints at his own concerns, but there’s also a sense of trust woven into his question. He wants to understand—not just the choices you make, but the person you are becoming, too.

You take a deep breath, the morning light creeping in through the window, casting a soft glow around the room. “It’s complicated,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t just about me answering my brother. It was about what kind of person I want to be. What kind of parent I want to be.”

Rafe nods, tightening his grip on your hand as if to draw you closer to him, as if that simple act could somehow provide clarity. “I get that,” he replies, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “It’s just that sometimes, I wonder how we got here. From those crazy nights to this… to our life now. It’s a lot.”

You chuckle softly at the contrast, the laughter carrying with it a weight of fondness. “It is a lot,” you agree, glancing down at your interlaced fingers. He continues, “But I wouldn’t change it for anything. You, me, V... we’re building something together, even if it's not always easy. Even if some days will feel more chaotic than others. It’s only been a day but I know it.”

Rafe’s eyes soften, and in that moment, you both realize that despite the exhaustion that comes with parenting and the burdens of the past, you are now in this together. The world beyond your bedroom may be demanding, but here, in the quiet sanctuary you’ve created, there’s an unspoken promise that binds you—one built on love, understanding, and a shared commitment to navigate this unpredictable journey together.

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as the weight of your emotions presses down on you. Finally, you begin to speak again, the words tumbling out like a confession long overdue. “I don’t know,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “I kept promising myself that I would reach out. I really wanted to, especially when I first left. I still wanted you to know but I couldn’t bring myself to call you. It felt so urgent back then, like if I could just put everything behind me, I might finally find peace. I wasn’t lying when I said that if I thought you didn’t want me, then you wouldn’t want her either. But I realized I was just trying to convince myself to feel better about not telling you.”

You take a moment, your gaze focused on Rafe’s hand, which is resting on your knee underneath the blanket. It serves as a silent point of connection—a tether to the complicated feelings swirling in your heart. “I wanted to forget about you and just move on. I thought it would be easier that way. But by the time I believed I had the strength to do it, it was too far in the pregnancy anyways. I didn’t even realize. Those first few weeks were such a blur. I found myself clinging to good memories with you instead of letting them go. And, strangely enough, I didn’t want to forget you. She’s my little reminder of you and the good in you, the person I always believed you could be.”

You look up, locking eyes with Rafe, who is intently focused on you. His gaze is unwavering, and you can feel the heat of his stare seeping into you, igniting a storm of unresolved feelings. You look back down as tears begin to well up in your eyes, spilling over and landing on both of your hands. “I can be good,” he says softly, determination lacing his words. “For both of you. I swear, I can be that person.”

With a sudden movement, he pulls you into a tight embrace, enveloping you in a warmth that feels both comforting and overwhelming. His lips brush against your temple, planting gentle kisses moving towards your mouth that send shivers down your spine. “What? Rafe, no… that’s not what I meant…” you stammer, but before you can even finish the sentence, he leans in and captures your lips with his.

The kiss is electric, stirring up emotions you thought you had buried—a mix of longing, fear, and undeniable connection. It feels like a lifeline thrown into the chaotic sea of your heart, and in that moment, everything else fades away. It was deep and passionate unlike the hungry ones from last night.

You knew that Rafe had built a life with Sofia since you’d been gone, a life that, although distant from yours, still resonated with echoes of your shared past. The reality of their relationship weighed heavily on you, and you couldn't deny the guilt curling in the pit of your stomach. It was a familiar feeling, one that stirred up memories both sweet and bitter. Last night, as you lay tangled in each other’s arms, felt like an inevitable culmination of the years spent together—years where you both played with fire, never quite willing to step away from its warmth. No matter how challenging things got, no matter the stark differences between your worlds, you had always been each other's exceptions.

Now, as Rafe's lips lingered on yours, a torrent of remorse washed over you, clashing violently with the sparks igniting in your chest. How could you let this happen? Memories of Sofia came rushing in, darkening the intimate moment with heavy shades of regret. She had always treated you with kindness, her sweet disposition refreshing amidst the chaos of work and life. A gentle smile here, a supportive word there—she was the kind of person who made the world feel just a little brighter. Plus, the fact that she lived close, about three-quarters of a mile down from you made it all the more complicated. It wasn’t just her proximity; it was the palpable intertwining of lives that made this situation feel even more convoluted.

You truly didn’t want to disrupt Rafe’s life like this. The last thing you wanted was to be the storm that tore apart the fragile peace he had finally found. You had admired him from afar during your time apart, hopeful for his happiness even if it meant living without him. A part of you had always wished him well, and now, here you were—teetering on the edge of an emotional cliff, grappling with the depths of your feelings for him while knowing full well the consequences.

“Rafe,” you finally murmur, breaking away from the spell of his kiss, your voice barely a whisper. The warmth of his embrace still lingered, but the weight of reality crashed back into focus. “What are we doing?”

His brow furrows, confusion mingling with concern in his eyes. You can see he wants to say something profound, something that would bridge the gap between your hearts and your histories, but the moment stretches painfully, leaving only an unspoken tension hovering between you. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself against the rising tide of emotions. “What about Sofia?”

Rafe’s expression shifts, and for a fleeting moment, you see the conflict in his gaze. It mirrors your own, a mixture of desire and dread—the push and pull of what you both truly want against what is right. “I… I’m not sure,” he admits, his voice filled with an honesty that cuts deep. “But I can’t pretend these feelings don’t exist. They’ve always been there for you. It was always supposed to be me and you.”

You nod slowly, your heart pounding. As much as you yearned for this connection, a part of you knew it came at a cost. And with every passing moment, that cost began to feel heavier, a weight you were both now grappling to understand.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, Rafe grabs you by the waist, pulling you onto him with an intensity that takes your breath away. His lips crash against yours once more, igniting a fire that you thought you could contain. It’s deep and full of raw lust, an electric connection that sets every nerve in your body alight. Against all reason, you melt into him, surrendering to the familiar heat that radiates from his touch, instinctively kissing back with a passion that feels both exhilarating and terrifying.

Every kiss pulls you deeper into the moment, flooding your senses with the realization of what you’ve longed for—what you’ve both longed for. You can feel him hardening beneath you, a palpable reminder of the desire simmering just beneath the surface. As you start to clench around nothing, a rush of eagerness sweeps through you, and you become instantly soaked with anticipation and longing, a primal need coursing through your veins.

With a shaky breath, you lift yourself slightly, allowing the heat of the moment to guide you. Your hands move instinctively to hold him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. You align him carefully, your heart racing with every pulse of adrenaline. The world outside fades completely as you focus on this singular moment, the intimate connection that binds you both together. The vulnerability of it all feels exhilarating, as if the two of you are suspended in time, connected in a way that transcends all the complexities surrounding you.

“Are you sure?” Rafe breathes, his voice a mixture of longing and caution. His eyes search yours, filled with desire but also a hint of desire to keep things right, to ensure he isn’t crossing a line.

You nod, affirmation pouring from your soul. The weight of your past hangs in the air, but in this moment, none of that matters. You can’t deny how desperately you crave this connection, how drawn you are to him despite everything—the desire eclipsing the doubts swirling in your mind. “Yes,” you whisper, urgency lacing your voice, “I need this.”

With that shared understanding, the tension melts into action, and you guide him closer, heart racing as you feel the warmth of him against you, ready to break free of the confines that have held you both back for too long. The world outside disappears, leaving just Rafe, you, and the intoxicating pull between you that refuses to be ignored.

You slowly sink onto him, each tantalizing inch igniting a wave of sensation that sends a loud gasp escaping your lips. The fullness of him fills you, and the feeling is overwhelming in the best way possible. You want to feel every inch of him, every moment oh him stretching you out feels like an eternity, and god, does it feel good. A rush of warmth surges through you as he fills you up, feeding a craving you’ve kept buried for far too long.

Your fingers instinctively grip the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to him as if you’re afraid to lose this moment, this connection. The world outside your little haven dissolves, leaving only the two of you, caught in a blissful embrace that is both electrifying and tender. As you finally reach the bottom, you both stop, the heat between you simmering as you stare deeply into each other’s eyes.

Heavy breaths mingle in the air, a mix of exhilaration and wonder as you take in the fullness of this moment—the warmth radiating from his body, the way his eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that makes your heart race. You can feel the weight of him inside you, a beautiful reminder of the bond you share, both thrilling and grounding.

The silence wraps around you like a soft blanket, charged with the pulse of your connected bodies and racing hearts. You see the flicker of vulnerability in Rafe’s gaze, mirroring the swirl of emotions within you. The moment feels sacred as you both navigate this new territory, each aware of the potential consequences but unwilling to let fear overshadow the undeniable pull you share.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” he breathes, breaking the stillness, his voice thick with emotion. The impossibility of the moment laces his words, and you nod, your heart swelling at the truth buried within them.

“I think this feels right,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. You lean in closer, your foreheads touching lightly, finding solace in each other’s warmth. The world beyond your bubble may be complicated, but here and now, in this moment, everything feels perfectly aligned.

With every heartbeat, you grow more aware of how deeply intertwined your lives have become, how this connection, born from a mixture of love, longing, and undeniable chemistry, feels like coming home. You close your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the bliss of it all, drinking in the moment, ready to embrace whatever comes next.

You begin to bounce on him, the sensation taking you by surprise as pleasure courses through your body in waves. It’s been far too long since you’ve felt anything like this, at this angle, and it feels unreal—every movement sending shockwaves of ecstasy radiating through you. The world outside your intimate bubble fades away completely, leaving only the rhythm of your bodies intertwined in perfect harmony.

Rafe’s hands grip your waist tightly, guiding you with a tenderness that contrasts to the primal energy of the moment. He helps you lift up and down, his motions strong and sure, as he knows exactly how to heighten the pleasure you’re both experiencing. He knows your body well. But still allowing you to maintain control. With each rise and fall, a chorus of moans spills from your lips, unrestrained and raw, mingling with the deep grunts of approval that escape him. The sound reverberates in your ears, igniting a fire deep within you that you didn’t know had been smoldering.

Every thrust brings you closer to that edge, the sensation intense and blissful. You can feel the heat pooling in your core as you ride him, your body responding instinctively to the rhythm, craving more. This connection—this union of flesh and desire—feels powerful, liberating in a way that makes your heart soar even as the weight of guilt lingers at the edges of your mind.

“You’re beautiful,” Rafe breathes, his voice rough with desire, drawing you deeper into the moment. The way he looks at you, filled with admiration and intense longing, drives you wild. You meet his gaze, every ounce of vulnerability laid bare, and you can’t help but smile through your moans. Not bothering to hear something in return. He can tell how lost you are off him. Eyes are rolling back and you can’t close your mouth from the pleasure.

The tempo builds, the air thick with heat and the intoxicating scent of desire. You can feel his strength beneath you, every muscle tensed as he assists your every movement, supporting you, urging you on. Lost in each other, you surrender completely to the ecstasy enveloping you, letting go of every worry that has plagued you. “That’s it baby, ride me just like that. You know how I love it.”

It’s just the two of you, bodies moving in unison, caught in a whirlwind of passion, trapped in a moment that feels infinite. You lose yourself in the sheer pleasure of it all, the ultimate expression of connection that you both so desperately craved. Nothing else matters but the way he fills you, the way your bodies fit together, and the pure ecstasy of this forbidden reunion.

You start to feel the telltale signs of your impending release, the tension building within you like a coiled spring. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you realize you no longer have the strength to keep bouncing. Instead, you wrap your arms around Rafe, seeking the comfort of his embrace. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, grounding yourself in the moment despite the chaos of emotions swirling around you.

Your instinct prompts you to bite down gently on his skin, a playful attempt to muffle the sounds that threaten to escape your lips, desperate to contain your pleasure in the heat of the moment. The taste of him only fuels the fire inside you, igniting a deeper need that sends shivers down your spine.

Rafe understands right away. He senses your shift, the way your body begins to respond in a different rhythm. Leaning back slightly, he gives you the support you need, anchoring himself against the bed. His hands still grip your waist, strong yet gentle, as he takes control of the pace. You feel him shift, and then he thrusts up into you from below, driving you deeper into that sweet, sweet spot within you.

The sensation is electrifying. He fills you completely, poking your cervix with every push of his cock. With every thrust, the world outside dissolves, leaving only the two of you lost in the throes of bliss. You feel your body tighten around him, every muscle engaged as you surrender to the rhythm he sets. Those thrusts, deep and deliberate, send shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, sending more shivers racing down your spine. The way he moves, the way he looks up at you with those intense, darkened eyes—everything about this moment seems to coalesce into something transcendent.

“Y-you too,” you manage to gasp out, your voice laced with desire. “You feel so good Rafe…”

He responds with another deep thrust, and you can’t help but moan louder, “Rafe… I’m so close.”

You can feel it building relentlessly, the pressure mounting as every thrust drives you further into the sweet abyss. You cling to him, seeking that ever-elusive release, feeling as if the two of you are in sync, almost like you were made for this.

You can’t contain the moans that finally spill from your lips, muffled slightly against his neck but no less passionate. Rafe responds in kind, the low growls of pleasure reverberating through his chest only fanning the flames of your desire. You know it won’t be long now—every movement, every breath, every shared glance contributing to the rising tide that promises to overwhelm you both. He’s kissing your chest, neck to the top of your breasts.

“Just let go,” he whispers, his voice a low rumble, urging you on as he continues to fill you deeply, the connection tightening around you like a fragile thread ready to snap. The warmth spreads, and you succumb willingly, ready to embrace the ecstasy that awaits.

You shoot him a heated glance, your heart pounding in tandem with your body. “I need you… needed to feel you like this,” you breathe, clinging to him as pleasure spirals higher. His thumb drops down to your clit rubbing in circles with great pressure.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper urgently, leaning closer, your breath mingling with his. “I’m right there. Just a little more…”

Rafe responds with a growl of approval, the connection tightening around you like a fragile thread ready to snap. You embrace the ecstasy that awaits, ready to lose yourself completely in the bliss that you’ve both ignited. He grips your hips harder, definitely bruising them and thrusting harder.

“Ugh, Rafe, fuck,” you gasp, feeling the unmistakable wave of pleasure cresting within you. “I’m so close too, baby. Let go now.” His groan resonates in your ear, vibrating through your entire body, and that sound is all you need to send you spiraling over the edge. Yet even in that bliss, he doesn’t stop chasing his own high, each thrust sending you further into a blissful haze.

“Please, in me… I need to feel you,” you manage to plead, urgency lacing your words. You’re shaking as you hold onto him. Rafe responds with a series of powerful, deliberate thrusts, each one pushing himself closer to the brink. Then, with a final, deep thrust, you feel him release, filling you to the brim with his hot liquid. His body collapses beneath you. You follow him down, your forehead resting gently against his, both of you gasping for breath, trying to come back to reality.

You brush the tip of your nose against his, a playful connection that elicits a soft smile amidst the heated passion. With sweat glistening on both your bodies, you look into his eyes, searching for the reassurance only he can provide.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks in his hands before kissing you deeply. When he pulls back, his gaze is intense, and he says, “God, you’re a dream come true. Truly, I’ve dreamed of having you back in my life every night since you left.”

You can’t help but feel the sting of tears gather in your eyes. The highs of your passionate encounter mingle with the flood of emotions rushing back in, a bittersweet reminder of everything that’s come before and what will happen as a result of this.

“No, no, no, don’t cry,” Rafe murmurs, panic flickering across his features. “I’m going to figure this all out. Please, put your trust in me. You and me, baby—all the way. I swear. Don’t worry about anyone else.”

His words wash over you like a calming wave, and you look back up at him, nodding with a small smile that betrays the whirlwind of thoughts churning within. Emotions aside, this is everything you’ve ever wanted with Rafe, and you know how much it means for V, too. You want to make up for the time you caused her to lose with him and embrace the future full of possibility.

Rafe leans in, kissing you again. You both smile into the kisses, the connection palpable.

Eventually, you get off him, wrapping a blanket around yourself as he pulls on his boxers. In a hushed quiet, you sneak into the bathroom, turning on the shower before you pull him in behind you. The warm water cascades over you, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. You wrap your arms around him, finding solace in his presence. He rubs gentle circles on your back and kisses the top of your head, both of you savoring the calm of the moment. You stand like that for a while, simply enjoying the feeling of being together, before finally washing up and stepping out.

Holding hands, you head back to your room, and as you pass the kitchen, you freeze in place upon seeing JJ. The tension hangs heavy in the air as neither of you speaks, simply staring at one another. It’s JJ who breaks the silence, his voice somewhat hesitant. “Hey, uh, can we talk for a sec?”

You look up at Rafe. He nods quickly, encouraging you silently, before you turn back to JJ, who is already walking closer to you. He completely ignores Rafe’s presence, focusing instead on you.

“What’s up?” you ask, folding your arms defensively. JJ shrugs and pulls you in for a hug, his expression earnest. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea what I said until I sobered up a bit and Kie yelled at me. I didn’t mean it. I could never mean it. I love the hell outta that little girl.”

“I know you didn’t, J. But it doesn’t change the fact that it hurt.” You step back, meeting his gaze, his frown tugging at your heartstrings.

“J, it’s okay—really, I swear. I could never hate you.” With a small smile, you extend your pinky out, waiting for him to wrap his around it. A pinky promise. It’s a gesture you both shared since childhood, a way of keeping each other safe from the turbulent lives you had to navigate. Keeping you both safe from Luke’s outburst. He finally meets your finger, and you pull him back into another hug.

“Love you, J.”

“Love you too, sis,” he replies, his voice warm as he pulls back.

You walk back into your room, where Rafe is already dressed, the sunlight streaming in through the windows. It’s 6:30 AM now—later than you intended for V to wake up. You quickly dress, and together, Rafe and you head to get her up.

“Hi, sleepy baby, time to get up,” Rafe says gently, rubbing her back. Almost immediately, V awakens with her signature huge smile. She reaches up for Rafe, and he scoops her up effortlessly, showering her cheeks with playful kisses. She giggles, trying to push him away in her adorable way, and your heart swells as you watch them together by the doorway.

You direct Rafe to her suitcase, and while he picks out an outfit, you head to the kitchen to make her breakfast. To your surprise, everyone is already awake, gathered around the kitchen table, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

As you enter, they all stare at you, and Cleo raises an eyebrow with a smirk. “So, did you have a fun night?”

“Yes, since you’re so curious,” you respond, a playful smirk forming on your lips. "Everything was just perfect.” You glance at Rafe, who catches your eye as he walks in, a small grin spreading across his face, and just like that, you can’t help but smile in return, ready to face whatever this day brings together. He keeps his distance from the people he know despises him.

“Don’t worry, we all heard just how perfect it was,” Pope quips under his breath, a teasing smirk gracing his lips. JJ dramatically pretends to gag, while Kie shivers in mock disgust, rolling her eyes as if she can’t bear to hear another word about it. You can’t help but laugh at their antics, their playful teasing only adding warmth to the already cozy morning atmosphere.

With a slight chill hanging in the air, you realize it’s a cooler morning than you expected. You decide to pack up V's breakfast, carefully loading it into a small basket. You grab a few pieces of fresh fruit for yourself and Rafe, wanting to share something light and cheerful to match the serene surroundings. You hand Rafe the basket.

“One second!” you exclaim, rushing back into V's room to grab her warm socks and a little sweater, knowing how much she loves being snug when the mornings get chilly. After all, there’s nothing quite like coziness by the water.

Once you’re all set, you, Rafe, and V head out to the dock, the crisp morning air invigorating. The sun peeks over the horizon, casting golden hues across the water, making it shimmer beautifully. As you settle down on the dock, Rafe sits with V in his lap, his arm wrapped around her, and you feel a rush of affection as the three of you share this moment together.

You spread out the breakfast, placing the basket between you, and begin to share the fruit, passing pieces to one another as you talk and laugh. The conversations flow easily, filled with lighthearted banter and playful teasing. You don’t ever remember a time it was like this with Rafe. V is all giggles as Rafe makes silly faces to keep her entertained, her laughter ringing out like music against the gentle lapping of the water.

“Mmmmmmmm!” V declares holding her tummy, taking a bite of her strawberry that dribbles juice down her chin. Rafe snickers, wiping it away with a thumb, and you catch the tender moment, your heart swelling even more as you watch him interact with her.

“Definitely mmmm V. It’s all about the company, right?” you say, nudging Rafe playfully with your elbow.

“Absolutely,” he replies, his eyes meeting yours, warmth radiating from him. “Can’t think of a better way to start the day.”

As you all share the meal, the combination of laughter, the bright morning sun, and the gentle rhythm of the water creates a perfect atmosphere. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling of contentment enveloping you. You realize how truly grateful you are for this time—this little family—you’ve built with Rafe and V.

You can feel the teasing glances from your friends back at the house, the energy in the air feeling lighter and more hopeful. There’s something about this morning that feels different, like a fresh start waiting to unfold. And as V giggles at one of Rafe’s silly impressions, you can’t help but smile, knowing that whatever challenges may lie ahead, you’ll face them together, stronger than ever.

You gently break the laughter between the two of them, a playful grin forming on your face as you lean in to V. “Hey, V, do you know who this is?” You point at Rafe, who glances at you, a hint of nervousness flickering across his features.

V looks between the two of you, her face bursting into a smile, though the confusion is evident in her big, bright eyes. “That’s daddy, V,” you encourage her, your heart racing a little as you say it.

“Dada!” she giggles loudly, the sound bright and infectious.

“Can you say ‘dada’ again?” you prompt, your excitement bubbling.

“Dada!” V repeats, her voice cheerful and innocent.

“Who’s that?” you ask again, the anticipation building as you hold her gaze.

“DADA!!” V replies with glee, absolutely beaming throwing herself at Rafe.

Rafe’s expression shifts completely, a wave of emotion washing over him. He’s lost in this moment, his heart swelling with disbelief at her words. Although he knows she doesn’t fully understand the weight of what she’s just said, he’s silently praying it sticks. This is the foundation of what he’s always wanted—a connection, a bond with her. His daughter. It triggers something deep within him, echoing the promise he made to you earlier: to be good for her… and for you.

Unable to contain himself, Rafe leans down, tickling V, who erupts in joyful laughter. He pulls her into a tight hug, holding her close. “Dada!” she cries out again, and at that moment, tears start to roll slowly down Rafe’s cheeks.

You notice the tears glistening in his eyes, and without hesitation, you brush your hand gently against the back of his head, moving in closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his emotion as V settles comfortably between his legs, completely at ease.

Seeing Rafe in this light is unlike anything you’ve ever imagined. It's a stark contrast to the way he was shaped by his father, and you can see how drastically he’s changed in such a short time. A daughter he’s only known for a day has already given him so much strength to stay on the straight and narrow. His love for her is palpable—pure, unconditional, overwhelming.

“I really like this feeling,” he murmurs to you, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for her.”

You turn to him, meeting his gaze, and without a moment’s thought, you lean in and press a gentle kiss on his lips. The tenderness of the moment wraps around you both, and you share a silent understanding of the depths of what you’re experiencing. This domestic feeling with Rafe is foreign but still feels so natural.

In this moment of warmth and love, you continue to relish every second. It feels like time has stopped, allowing you all to bask in the beauty of this new beginning. You can’t help but feel a sense of hope washing over you, knowing that together, with V at the center of it all, the three of you can build a future that shines with promise.

In the back of Rafe's mind, a deal proposed by Hollis Robinson loomed like a neon sign, beckoning him with promises of substantial financial gain. It was an enticing offer he'd been mulling over for days, stirring up conflicting emotions within him.

He recalled Sofia's hesitation when she first discovered the opportunity, her face etched with concern about the implications of such a choice. What had initially felt like a clear path to a better future now seemed shrouded in moral uncertainty, and Rafe couldn’t help but notice how what he had once envisioned for himself and Sofia was beginning to morph into something meant for you and V. On one hand, the promise of money could provide a sense of security—the kind he wanted desperately to give his daughter. The idea of providing V everything she might need was alluring.

Yet, with every enticing thought of wealth came the heavy weight of its potential consequences. He struggled with the nagging feeling that pursuing that deal could jeopardize what he was beginning to build with you and V, creating an internal conflict that felt almost unbearable. In moments of clarity, he would see how far he’d come and how profoundly he wanted to be better for them both.

But that alluring prospect still tugged at him. Images flashed in his mind of a future where he could give V the best—new clothes, educational opportunities, a safe environment to grow up in. Yet he questioned at what cost it would come. The tug-of-war between the responsibility of being a provider and the darker path that came with Hollis's offer left him feeling unsettled.

He looked down at V, happily nestled between his legs, her laughter ringing like music in the crisp morning air. In that moment, his heart ached with a longing to protect this newfound happiness; every precious moment he shared with you and her felt like a fragile treasure.

Rafe’s gaze drifted toward the water, and uncertainty washed over him. He didn’t want to risk this connection, this fragile happiness he was slowly crafting for you and V. Was the pursuit of money worth potentially losing the life he was starting to build?

He made a silent promise to himself to reflect deeply. Would he be able to resist the allure of Hollis’s deal, or would the desire for security ultimately pull him in? The commitment to be better for his daughter and for you felt stronger than ever, but the specter of temptation still loomed, leaving him unsure of the path he would ultimately take. Instead, for now, he wrapped his arm around you and just enjoyed the moment you’re having.

“I’m gonna figure this out- for all of us. Promise.”

Taglist-

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @calaryssia @leilanizcals @eg-dr3amer3

[shiorimakibawrites]

Relax (Daredevil Fan Fic)

Inspired by the above gif and that shower scene in the leaked Daredevil: Born Again trailer. Then given life by the enabling of Murdock's Tuna Team.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Word Count: ~3500 Warnings: Black Suit Daredevil, Explicit sexual content including shower sex, dirty talk, masturbation, sexual fantasies (binding, male receiving oral sex, edging, p in v sex), oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms, clothed sex (one partner naked), marking Summary: After a long day, you tried to relax in the shower. General Masterlist / Matt Murdock Masterlist Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @sleepysleepymom, @bellaxgiornata, @yarrystyleeza AO3 Link

Relax

You closed the door behind you. It was such a relief to be home. Your day had been terrible. The computer at work kept having problems. To the point that you had been sorely tempted to throw it out the window. Your office was five stories up. It would make a very satisfying crash when it hit the ground . . . well, satisfying until you got fired for destroying office property.

Your boss wasn’t very sympathetic about the delays. And that was putting it mildly. It soon became just as tempting to defenestrate her along with the computer. After all, you knew a really good lawyer . . . But in the end, you gritted your teeth and restrained yourself.

At least you weren’t the only one she had been an absolute nightmare to. The poor kid from IT had also gotten it from barrels.

It eventually got fixed but not before you had to cancel your lunch plans with Matt. Had to warn him that you were probably working late.

And you had. Not as late as you feared but late enough that you were certain that you had missed Matt. Again.

The journey home after work did nothing to improve your mood. Today had been unbearably hot and humid. The sun might have gone down but the temperature hadn’t. It didn’t take long to start sweating. Not for the first time, you wished your office didn’t have such a strict dress code. Even your lightest weight suit was too warm for this weather.

As expected, the apartment was empty and silent. But you couldn’t say that Matt’s absence from the apartment wasn’t a disappointment. You wanted a hug. You had a shitty day. You were tired. You were frustrated. Your feet hurt. You felt the pressure in your temples that signaled an oncoming migraine. You could really use the comfort of having Matt’s strong arms around you, his deep voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

Or dirty promises, your mind suggested. Your husband was equally good at both. But what made his dirty promises so effective was that you knew they weren’t idle boosting. He always delivered. You vividly remembered the one he had made on your wedding night.

What I want, Mrs. Murdock, is for you to ruin these sheets. So I’m going to bury my face in that beautiful pussy until you can’t walk tomorrow.

And he had. To this day, you have no idea how many orgasms it was. There were at least four but after that it started to get hazy.

You squeezed your thighs together. Just the memory of that night was enough to awaken a familiar ache between your legs. If Matt was here, he’d be giving you that knowing smirk.

Assuming the reek of drying sweat didn’t put him off entirely. Maybe you should take a shower . . . Yeah, a shower sounded good. It would help relax you after such a terrible day and you wouldn’t stink when your husband returned. Win-win.

You kicked off your heels, nudging them under the bench next to Matt’s leather shoes with your foot. Your briefcase and purse, you just dropped onto one of the living room chairs. The one that had the jacket and tie Matt had worn this morning draped across the back. It was joined by your own suit jacket, then you made a beeline for the bathroom.

You turned on the water, then adjusted the temperature to your preference. Peeling off your clothes was so satisfying . . . especially your bra. Taking off your bra was usually one of the best things about coming home but today? Getting the sweaty thing off felt particularly good. You dropped it in with the rest of your clothes piled in the corner. Another thing to tidy up later.

You groaned in relief when you stepped under the spray. The heat immediately began seeping into your muscles. You hadn’t realized just how tighter you were in your neck and upper back until it started to loosen. Truly, hot water on tap was one of human civilization’s greatest luxuries.

You had ignored your earlier arousal while you washed but afterward, your cunt reminded you that it had been a while you and Matt had had sex. Well, a while for the two of you. Technically a week wasn’t all that long. But it sure felt like it to your cunt which had gotten used to regular attention.

Inevitably your mind slipped back to the last time you had gotten that attention. Sunday morning, just before things decided to get hectic. You had woken up to Matt kissing your neck. You rolled over and kissed him. The kiss was soft despite the very eager cock pressed tightly against your ass. His hands had been just as gentle, almost reverent in their exploration. Slowly building the heat until he slide inside you with one of those beautiful moans. His pace remained unhurried, slowly fucking . . . no, making love to you until you were almost sobbing. There was no almost about it, when he ate you out afterward.

Your cunt clenched desperately around nothing. It wanted Matt . . . but Matt wasn’t here . . . . you could wait for his return but who knows when that would be . . . sometimes Matt was out there until the wee hours of the morning. You couldn’t wait that long. You needed some relief now.

The decision to slip your hand between your thighs wasn’t hard. You moaned at the feeling. It had been a long time since you had last touched yourself. Matt was more than happy to take care of your needs . . . And it seemed like every time you touched yourself in front of him, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself for long . . . maybe you should tie him up . . .

You worked a single finger into yourself . . . it was a pretty picture. Matt spread out on the bed, naked save for the ropes binding his hands above his head. Unable to touch you while you did whatever you wanted to him. You could trace every muscle, first with your fingertips, then with your mouth, slowly making your way to his cock. 

Or maybe, you thought biting your lip as you worked in another finger, maybe you wouldn’t touch him at all. You would touch yourself. Drive Matt crazy with the scent of your arousal, the sounds of your pleasure . . . Past attempts trying this had always ended when Matt couldn’t stay away. Sweetheart, you smell so good. I need to taste you.

But maybe if you tied him down, you’d get him begging. Then maybe you would untie him. Or maybe you would just ride him. Turn him into the same moaning mess he made you . . .

You let out a stuttering moan at the image, increasing the movement of your fingers in and out. Close, you were getting close . . .

The bathroom door opened. You let out a shriek, your fingers slipping out of you. Heart pounding with sudden fear, you whirled around to face the intruder . . .

“Relax, sweetheart. It’s just me.”

Matt . . . the fear drained out of you. “Fuck, Matt.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Unlike all the times that he had startled you to amuse himself, he sounded genuinely remorseful. You turned to look at him and had another surprise. He was wearing the black suit. You weren’t expecting that. And neither was your cunt.

You had always had a weakness for the black suit. You couldn’t really explain why. The red suit was just as tight. Just as sexy in its own way. Could get you all hot and bothered. But there was something about the black suit. It was different. And that undefinable difference made you feel feral.

Especially, you squinted through the steam, when said suit was soaking wet. Turning the already tight clothing into something painted on. You could see every ridge and crevice of his torso and abdominals. And the outline of his cock . . . already erect . . . your cunt clenched again, desperately aching for him to be inside you again.

Add in the beard Matt had started growing, a beard lightly peppered with gray . . . if you hadn’t been wet before, you certainly would be now.

And Matt knew it. You could see it in that smug, little smirk that replaced the contrite look. He started removing his gloves.

“Hey, babe,” You said, trying to play it cool. With limited success. “You’re home early. Got too wet?”

The smirk only grew. “No but I think someone here is.”

You felt warmth spread across your cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Sweetheart, do you think I can’t smell how wet you are?” He moved closer. Even barefoot, that predatory slink sent shivers down your spine.

But not from fear.

He herded you toward the back. You gasped at the bite of the cool tiles but your attention was rapidly pulled back to the man in front of you. His hands were braced on the wall either side of your head, boxing you in. He leaned in close, put his mouth right by your ear.

“Because I can.” His voice was deep as it went, a low rumble like thunder. You squirmed, your breath hitching. You had heard his Devil voice before. Matt had very quickly figured that you found his voice a turn on, his Devil even more so. But you hadn’t heard him using the Devil voice while wearing the black suit. The combination was dizzyingly hot. “I smelled your pussy and how thoroughly drenched it is the second I walked in the door.”

“I heard those breathy little moans as you touched yourself from a block away. I heard you panting out my name when you started fingering yourself.” He nuzzled your neck, his lips brushing against a sensitive spot. You felt your skin pebble and you shivered at the sensation. “Has my sweet girl been missing me?”

“Yes,” you said. Your voice had gone breathy. “I’ve barely even seen you this week, Matty.”

Matt made a thoughtful humming noise, kissing your neck. “And then I ruined your orgasm. Let’s fix that.”

He punctuated that promise with a gentle nip. You shuddered, your breath hitching as his mouth continued to work that part of your neck with his lips, teeth, and tongue. It was a sensitive spot. Matt always paid it some attention, sometimes leaving a mark.

Today seemed to be one of those times.

His hands didn’t remain idle. One reached down to cup your left breast, kneading the soft flesh. You couldn’t have contained that breathy moan if you wanted to. It felt so good to have his hands back on you. It really had been too long since he touched you. A second, louder moan spilled out of your mouth when his fingers gently pinched the stiff nipple, then started rolling it between his fingers.

The other hand continued its downward journey until it was cupping your mound. You gasped, your head thrown back against the tile as a single finger slipped between your folds. He slid through your folds a few times, coating his finger in your slick. Before slipping down to trace your entrance. A deep, feral noise rumbled out of his chest.

“You are so fucking wet,” Matt growled into your neck. “All this mine?”

“Y-yes,” You said, your voice rising in pitch as his finger slid inside you. It felt so good. Matt’s fingers were longer and thicker than yours. Not quite as thick as two of your fingers. You bite your lip. You needed more. And because Matt knew your body inside and out, he didn’t need to be told to start working in a second finger. Now you could feel the stretch, the fullness that had been missing before. You threw your head back against the tile, moaning.

“Just like that, sweet girl,” he said. “Give me those beautiful sounds.”

The wave had already begun to build but it climbed higher and higher with each thrust of his fingers, each brush of that spongy spot deep inside that you couldn’t reach with your own fingers. The whines you let out when his hand abandoned your breast rapidly turned into whimpers when his fingers began rubbing circles on your clit.

The little nub was already swollen and sensitive from your almost orgasm. It didn’t take much attention to it for that wave to crest, toppling over into bliss. Bliss that 

The little nub was already sensitive from your almost orgasm. It didn’t take much for that wave to crest, topple over as you came. Waves of bliss that rippled through your body as Matt’s hands continued their work. Not stopping until your inner walls stopped squeezing tight on his fingers. Only then did his fingers slip out of you and away from your clit.

Panting, you slumped back against the tile wall. Your shaky legs couldn’t hold your body upright without the help. The shaking only got worse when Matt lifted his head. Even with his mask still on, you knew that look. That feral hunger. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you against the wall.

Then he sank down to his knees.

You bite your bottom lip, barely managing to swallow an embarrassingly loud moan. Because that . . . the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen kneeling between your legs as the shower continued to pour water down on you . . . Despite just having an orgasm, your cunt throbbed with need. Need that only swelled when Matt grabbed one leg and hoisted over his shoulder, leaving you open to him.

Matt ignored your eager cunt in favor of your inner thigh. Another sensitive spot that he loved leaving marks on. No one but you would ever see it but he knew you liked the physical reminder of his ardor, enjoyed the slight sting when something brushed the mark. Lately that secret pleasure has increased with the addition of beard burn. Your panting picked up as he lighty bit down on that spot. It felt good. It felt so, so good.

But it wasn’t what you needed.

“Matt,” you whined, trying to squirm but held still by the hands gripping your hips. “Please.”

“Hmmm? Does my sweet girl want something?” he asked, only lifting his head enough to speak. The teasing brush of his lips against already sensitive skin only increased your attempts to squirm. But you couldn’t. All you could do was dig the heel of your foot against his back.

To no avail. He was clearly content to wait for you to break. It didn’t take long.

“Your mouth,” you begged. “Please Matty, eat me out.”

“One condition.”

“Anything!”

You could more feel than see the smirk on his face. “You better not swallow any more noises. I want to hear you, sweetheart.”

“But the neighbors . . .”

“Fuck the neighbors,” he growled into your thigh. “I want to hear you scream.”

Then his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked. You cried out, hands scrambling on the tile. The pleasure was so intense that it bordered on painful. But Matt was merciless, not letting up on the pressure until you were screaming his name as you came for the second time.

“Matt,” you whimpered when his mouth lowered down to lap noisily at your soaked entrance with his usual enthusiasm, sending sparks of white-hot pleasure up your spine. It was so good. It was too much. You didn’t know if you wanted to push your cunt closer to his mouth or pull away.

Eventually he was satisfied that he had gotten every drop. Carefully lifting one hand away from your hips to lower your trembling leg off his shoulder. The hand returned to your hips. Good thing as his hands were the only thing keeping you from sliding down the shower floor. A shift, then he was rising back to his feet.

He kissed you. It was a hungry thing, devouring you like he intended to eat you from the mouth down. You could taste the tang of yourself on his tongue. He pressed himself against you, swallowing all your whimpers as he rutted his clothed cock against your bare cunt. Good, it felt so good . . . 

His hands shifted again until his arm was under your ass. Then he was lifting you up. Your legs dangled on either side of him, still too wobbly to wrap around his waist. You had a moment of worry that he would slip but your husband was cat-like in his grace as ever. And so strong. Even knowing him for as long as you had, sometimes his strength still surprised you. He effortlessly carried you out of the shower. Not even pausing and shifting your weight to one arm in order to turn off the shower caused him any difficulty.

You thought that he might carry you into the bedroom but apparently Matt was feeling impatient. He plopped you down on the bathroom counter. Then his hands reached down and hurriedly undid his belt buckle. The zipper came down next, Matt letting out a soft sigh of pleasure. With a little difficulty, he pushed down his pants and boxers far enough to free his cock.

Your cunt clenched pathetically around nothing. That particular body part should have been sated but it wasn’t. Not while it was so empty. Not when his cock was right there, long and thick and hard. Not when you could be getting fucked by your Devil.

“Do you want me to be gentle?” He asked, his hands gripping your thighs.

“No.”

He roughly pulled you forward by your thighs until you were on the edge of the counter, then used that same hold to spread your legs wide. You felt him sliding against you, then he was inside you. Sliding all the way in without pausing. You gasped. Even with two orgasms and the earlier fingering, it was still a tight squeeze. Not enough to hurt but you would be feeling this later.

Good. You liked waking up like that, feeling the pleasant ache of your and Matt’s passion for each other.

Before he could even ask, you were demanding, begging. “Fuck me, fuck me hard.”

He drew out part way, then back in, and after that there was nothing but his cock inside you. His thrusts were hard and fast, pumping into you with a relentless pace. Just like you asked. All you could do was hang on, hands clinging to his shoulders. One of your legs regained enough strength to wrap around his bare ass. 

The sound of flesh hitting flesh and his grunts as he fucked into you seemed oddly loud, ringing with the faint echoiness of the bathroom. Your own cries of pleasure were only slightly muffled by his neck where you had buried your face. You had to bite down on his neck to contain your screams when with a slight adjustment of his hips, he began hitting that spot deep inside you that brought you so much pleasure. He groaned at the press of your teeth into his flesh. Matty loved a bit of pain with his pleasure.

A third wave of pleasure grew, swelled until it became a raging torrent. You could not help but be swept away. You came, wrenching your mouth away from his neck to scream out his name again and again. Your nails dug deep into his shoulder, then he slammed hard into you, pushing himself impossibly. And he came with a beautiful groan, spilling his release inside you.

You had no idea how long you both remained right where you were, breathing hard with his cock still buried deep inside you as he could be. You could feel it twitching as your cunt continued to flutter around it. But gradually the fluttering and the twitching slowed, then stopped. You reached up, hooked your fingers under the edge and pulled off his mask. 

You loved your Devil but you also loved your Matt. And you haven't seen much of him this week either.

A sentiment Matt seemed to share, smiling at you. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” you said, smiling back. It was impossible not when he had that dopey, slightly crooked smile on his face. It was almost impossible not to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Which only grew that blissful, peaceful look on his face.

“Our water bill this month is going to be outrageous.”

“Worth it.”

Matt hissed a little when he pulled his cock out. But so did you when he helped clean you up, more than a little sensitive. But you wouldn’t trade that experience for anything. As Matt just said, worth it.

He finally peeled off his sopping wet clothes, hanging them up to dry. Your body tried to muster up the energy for a fourth round after seeing his naked body. But you were too tired. Probably just as well. Your legs were limp noodles. For which Matt lightly teased you as he carried you to the bed.

As you lay snuggled across his side, you said softly, “I love you.”

You never let a day pass without telling Matt that. You never wanted him to doubt that. It had taken too long for you to convince him that you weren’t going anywhere. That you were here to say. That you loved him for him.

“I love you, too,” Matt said, his voice just as soft.

Just as you were about to drift off, an idea floated to the top of your mind.

“Hey Matt?”

A questioning sleepy hum.

“How do you feel about being tied up?”

__

To be continued . . . in Bound

[doumadono]

Warnings: smut w/o plot, rough p in v, oral (f & m receiving), wry & dom Dabi, f!reader, a lot of cursing and names calling, slapping, a little degradation, hate s*x Synopsis: arranging a birthday celebration for Dabi proved to be a mistake. It ignited his anger, driving him to his room in a fit of rage. When anger transformed into desire, Dabi insisted on celebrating in his own way, marking the first intimate encounter between the two of you A/N: the prompt was Dabi's first time with his girlfriend is on his birthday This marks the last story crafted in celebration of Dabi's birthday 💜

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST DABI'S BIRTHDAY EVENT

"You little cunt!" Dabi's voice thundered, a venomous edge cutting through the air. He didn't bother casting a glance in your direction.

In response to the verbal assault, you jerked your hand free from his grip. "What's the matter this time, Mr. Know-It-All? I merely intended to throw you a pleasant birthday celebration, and you act as though I threatened to annihilate your entire family!"

Dabi scoffed dismissively, striding purposefully toward his room. "Do you think I'd give a damn fuck if you did? Of course not. And I thought I made myself crystal clear — I want no bloody celebrations. I detest my birthday. I despise the very notion of being born. What is so challenging for your tiny, stupid brain to comprehend?"

A disbelieving sigh escaped your lips. While you were well aware of his aversion to birthdays, the magnitude of his anger caught you off guard. Baking him a cake and orchestrating a modest gathering with the assistance of Toga and Shigaraki seemed like a harmless gesture to celebrate his existence, yet it had evidently ignited an unexpected fury.

Dabi came to an abrupt halt and glanced back at you, seizing your wrist and pulling you closer to him. "No response, huh?" he sneered. "Fine, little cunt. So, you're keen on celebrating the day this damn pathetic villain, murderer, and arsonist was born? Well, we'll celebrate it, but we'll do it my damn way."

He forcibly pulled you behind him, and despite your inner desire to break free from his grip, the futility of any attempt was evident – he wielded a strength far surpassing your own.

Dabi swung open the door to his room and shoved you inside, the harsh sound of the door slamming shut resonating through the air as he entered, sealing the room in an oppressive silence.

In the midst of the heated altercation, the details of the argument eluded your memory. A palpable anger still hung in the air, the exchange of words escalating to a fever pitch.

Your gaze shifted toward Dabi, poised to retort, but the intensity in his turquoise eyes arrested your words. The pulsating vein in the black-haired man's neck became a focal point, a magnetic force compelling your desire to quell its frenetic rhythm with a kiss.

His recognition of the unspoken yearning reflected in your face halted his verbal assault, leaving his mouth slightly ajar.

In that suspended moment, the impulse to crush your lips against his neck overwhelmed you. You yearned to soothe the frenetic heartbeat beneath the surface.

As if reading your intentions, Dabi seized you abruptly, drawing you into the circle of his robust arms. It was as if he had glimpsed into the depths of your desires, a skill he wielded with uncanny accuracy. In that instant, he kissed you with the intensity you had yearned for, the clash of tongues mirroring the earlier verbal sparring. The taste of anger mingled with a surprising sweetness, and your body ignited with a white-hot desire, a fervor that only Dabi could unleash. The searing sensation surged from your chest down to your thighs, awakening every inch of your being.

You had sensed the fire kindling in Dabi's loins, the hardness growing almost instantly, and his whole body turning super hot due to his quirk.

Dabi grasped a handful of your hair, yanking your head back, and engaged in a fervent exchange of kisses, licks, and nips, each touch eliciting moans of pleasure from your slightly bruised, parted lips.

The yearning became unbearable, compelling you to crave the feel of Dabi's skin against yours. Almost as if he had divined your thoughts, he leaned back, swiftly discarding his shirt through his hair. His hands reached for your blouse, and with a forceful yank, he tore it open, sending buttons scattering across the tiny room. Despite the intimidating aura that surrounded Dabi, you harbored no fear.

Even though you were aware of his desires, the topic about sex was returning like a boomerang, resurfacing every few days. It had been over half a year since you both became a thing, yet you had not crossed the threshold into a physical relationship, and this restraint was gradually driving Dabi to the brink of madness. You suspected that today's outbursts were fueled, in part, by the previous night's rejection when, amidst a heated make-out session, you had declined his advances as his hand ventured into your shorts, teasing your folds through the fabric of your knickers.

Yet now, a curious mixture of emotions surged within you. Somehow, you found yourself yearning for him with an intensity that defied explanation. Despite no longer being a virgin, a concern lingered about the potential discomfort of engaging in sex with Dabi.

Dabi's lips sought yours once more as he simultaneously released the front clasp of your sheer bra. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, the exquisite pain of his teeth on your flesh intensifying the smoldering embers between your legs into a searing white-hot flame of desire.

"Dabi..." you whined loudly, rolling your head back, resting it against the wall, slipping one of your hands into his hair.

His impatient hands slipped under your skirt in a quest to discover your most sensitive spot. The intensity of his anger and desire surged as his hand encountered obstacles on its journey - your panties. Finally, locating the waistband, Dabi forcefully burnt your panties away, being careful enough to not hurt you. Free from the hindrance, his hungry fingers found what they sought.

Dabi inserted a finger into your wetness, gliding it upward over your swollen clit after finger fucking you for a moment, eliciting moans of ecstasy from you. Simultaneously, his lips continued their exploration, savoring the taste of yours, tracing a path from your lips to your earlobes and down to your neck. "Fucking little cunt," he sneered. "I'll certainly educate you on how I desire my birthday to be celebrated. Perhaps it will penetrate that thick, stupid skull of yours at last, you little whore."

Your moans of pleasure intensified, your hands exploring the contours of Dabi's body. His skin felt sensuous and super warm beneath your fingertips. Before long, your hands discovered his pierced nipple. Gently, you pinched it, coaxing a primal sound from Dabi's lips as he worked diligently on marking your neck, signaling to the world that you belonged to him.

The heightened arousal compelled you to push him away slightly. You replaced your fingers with your mouth after leaning forward, nipping and licking his chest. The tip of your tongue traced along his tensed muscles, whether concealed beneath healthy skin or adorned with scars and purple patches, relishing the taste that was undeniably manly and salty, yet sweet as nectar to your senses.

Dabi's fingers fucked you more, and had rendered you incredibly wet, your clitoris throbbing with anticipation, swollen with both pleasure and need. Seizing your chin in his hand, Dabi kissed you roughly, propelling you back against the wall. He then descended to his knees, lifting your skirt, and trailed his tongue up one thigh and then the other, savoring the juices that had escaped during the fervor of his fingers' endeavors.

Dabi's warm tongue resumed its task, leisurely stroking your sweet, swollen spot. He inserted a finger, moving in and out, synchronizing the motion with the skilled strokes of his tongue. His tongue circled around your sticky clit, while his finger worked diligently to pleasure your pussy. Suddenly, he sucked on it with a hunger reminiscent of a baby latching onto its mother's breast. Your moans grew louder, the sensation of his sucking propelling you closer to the edge, teetering on the brink of no return.

"Yes, Dabi, oh! Just like that!" you gasped, attempting to keep him in the spot to grind your pussy against his face, but Dabi swatted your hands away and rose to meet your gaze.

His eyes mirrored yours, smoky with unbridled lust. "Oh, no, no, little dirty slut. Not yet. No matter how you beg, you'll come when I say," he declared, denying you the release you sought as he asserted control over your pleasure. "Suck me off like a good slut and I'll think of rewarding you."

The overwhelming urge to taste the most manly of flavors had consumed you, leading your hands to fumble with Dabi's thick, white belt. Finally releasing it, the snap and zipper undone, you descended to your knees in front of him, pushing down his dark pants. Dabi's hardened member sprung free, pulsating with the burning lust, a little pearl of precum adorned the slit of its tip. Your cheeks reddened upon noticing the piercing just beneath the tip. Your tongue explored his shaft, moving around and under, tracing the prominent vein, finally reaching the head and swirling around it. It was moist, and the salty flavor was a delightful sensation, spilling all over your tongue. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you took him between your swollen lips, bobbing your head back and forth eagerly, moaning around him.

Dabi's sharp intake of breath signaled the pleasure coursing through him as he felt your lips on his dick. "That's it, dirty whore, suck that fat cock."

You sucked and licked, the intensity of his moans guiding the rhythm of your movements. The sweet labor of tasting your boyfriend drove you into a state of pure ecstasy.

With a resounding pop sound, you withdrew his dick from your mouth, using one hand to jerk it, spreading your saliva across the length of his shaft. Pressing the erect member against his abdomen, you then lowered your head to cradle his heavy balls in your mouth, delicately pressing on them with your tongue.

"Fuck," he growled, closing his eyes for a moment. "You're a fucking whore. My private fuck toy. You're nothing more than a whore, spreading your legs so willingly f'me right now. Look at you. And two days ago you were whining that you're not ready to let me fuck you just yet. Pathetic."

His lewd words elicited a moan from you as you resumed the task of sucking his cock. Ensuring to swirl your tongue around the head, you then proceeded to kiss along the vein running beneath the shaft before you pushed his dick back into your mouth, bobbing your head eagerly.

Suddenly, Dabi reached down, seizing your arm and pulling you up. "Enough, cunt. Time to fuck that pretty, little cunt, yeah?"

"I am so ready for you to fill my belly with your fat cock, daddy," your words quivered with desire.

Dabi grinned wryly. "You're a pathetic bitch, princess. You think with your fucking cunt. So disappointing."

Pressed against the wall, Dabi gripped one of your legs, lifting it up. In one fluid motion, he drove his cock deep inside you, easily bottoming out in your pussy.

"Dabi!" Your scream of pleasure echoed long and loud as the painful stretch overwhelmed your mind.

He lifted your other leg, picking you off the floor, impaling you against the wall, never losing the rhythmic, frantic thrusts.

One of your hands glided down from Dabi's shoulder to your wet clit, skillfully massaging it as he thrust into your pussy. He felt like a white-hot spear inside your pussy. You and Dabi stared into each other's eyes. Both your hands now rested on Dabi's shoulders. You arched your back, rolling your hips in his embrace to synchronize with each of his strokes. "More, more, more!" you begged, your tone pathetic.

Dabi encircled his arm around your ass, using his free hand to deliver a sharp slap to your face. "Look at me, bitch! Look at me!"

It proved challenging for you to maintain focus on his face, especially with every forceful thrust causing the aggressive tip of his cock to brush and nudge all the right spots deep within you. "I… I can't, D… Da…"

He didn't allow you to finish your sentence, responding by slapping your other cheek. "I. Said. Look. At. Me!"

Moaning unabashedly, like a cheap whore you apparently were in that moment, you gazed at him through teary eyes. The singular thought that occupied your mind was the anticipation of his cum, filling you to the brim.

Dabi intensified his rhythm, his buttocks flexing with each forceful thrust. He nibbled on the column of your neck, emitting guttural grunts. "Fucking bitch. Your cunt belongs to me. You belong to me. You fucking naughty whore."

In the final few thrusts, as Dabi's movements became increasingly erratic, he reached the peak of his release within the warmth of your pussy. "Take it, bitch, take it, take it," he growled through gritted teeth. The temperature of his skin soared, accompanied by wisps of dark smoke and the faint scent of burning flesh as he briefly lost the grip on his Blueflame quirk.

His hot seed spilled into your pussy, intensifying your own climax as your pussy clenched tightly around his throbbing shaft. "Dabi!!!" you screamed, the overwhelming sensations pushing you to the brink of consciousness, making it difficult to catch your breath.

Dabi lowered one of your legs, and then the other. Clinging to each other, you leaned against the wall, neither trusting your legs to support you. Dabi's semen mixed with your juices slowly traced down your shaking legs, leaving a trail of slickness in its wake.

Dabi cradled your chin between his thumb and forefinger, planting a tender kiss on your lips. "Now, you've been the good girl you are, princess. Satisfied with the fucking celebration?"

You trailed a series of soft kisses along the contours of his sharp jawline. "Yes, but… are you still upset with me, Dabi?"

Dabi scoffed, theatrically rolling his eyes. "No. I fucked away all the stress, yeah?"

"You burned my favorite panties," you complained, making a sad face.

He leaned down to hoist his pants back up, tucking his flaccid cock back into its confines and adjusting them before fastening the belt. "I'll buy you a new pair, just stop whining."

Dabi flopped onto his bed, sliding both hands under his head as he gazed up at the cracks on the ceiling.

Climbing onto the bed, you curled into a ball by his side, resting your head on his chest, attuning yourself to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I'm sorry for riling you up."

"It's fine," he grumbled. "Let's not talk about that, doll."

A few moments of silence hung in the air before you whispered, "I just want you to know that I genuinely love you, every fiber of your being."

Dabi remained unresponsive initially, but after a prolonged and piercing silence, he wrapped his arm around you, leisurely stroking your shoulder. "Thanks, doll face. I love you too."

[holified]

HER IRE WAS A COLD AND quiet affair, a viper that crawled around her dead heart and slowly bit into its rotting flesh, embedding its venom into her words and shining through her eyes. She felt her lips curl into a sarcastic smirk, an expression that would never have crossed her living visage, but that defiled her undead countenance. ❝Oh, have I? I did take the Shikon no Tama with me to the next life, and thus hindered your plans for fifty years, Naraku. And besides, I have denied your heart's greatest desire: me.❞ A delicate eyebrow rose in defiance, the viper in her chest relishing in the stabbing of his pride, ❝You exist only as a broken thing, Naraku, a pitiful stitching of malicious creatures fighting to become whole. My exorcising you will be a sign of mercy.❞

"So, you finally show your true self. Just as arrogant as all those you so looked down upon."

Naraku felt nothing for her cruel words, but he could not deny the heart of Onigumo writhed in agony. Yearning for her still even after fifty years. The wretch was shameless enough to feel some semblance of guilt for her untimely death. Pathetic.

But it was that lingering trace of the bandit that stopped Naraku from harming this woman. His mocking, self satisfied smirk remains present, though it doesn't reach his eyes. His crimson gaze burnt with impotent rage that built and built as the wretch denied him any semblance of peace. Once he excised that wretched heart like a tumor, he would shatter her like the vessel of clay and bones she truly was.

"Though I suppose I should feel honored that you have taken such keen interest in removing me from this world. You already failed one duty, nothing would fill me with more pleasure than to see you fail again."

[alyrasturnz]

matt is so guilty as sin coded... so can u make a guilty as sin smut fic

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎GUILTY AS SIN

❐ summary » when your best friend elucidates that the weight of guilt for the licentious musings you've harbored about him is an unnecessary burden, his compassionate understanding and acceptance illuminating the dark recesses of your conscience and freeing you from the shackles of self-reproach.

❐ pairings » bsf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » creampie, no protection (wrap it up), you will get second hand embarrassment cause he catches her masturbating to him, masturbation, p in v, oral (fem receiving)

❐ a/n && w/c » cause why was i thinking of the girl i like while writing this •

your eyes wandered over the expanse of your bare thigh, your thumb tracing intricate, delicate patterns across the skin.

as you continued this gentle exploration, your mind, a fervent artist, began to conjure vivid, almost tangible images of hickeys and love bites, each one a testament to unspoken desires and intimate moments yet to be unveiled.

these imagined marks seemed to dance across your skin, telling stories of passion and connection, of whispered secrets and shared breaths.

the more you traced, the more detailed these fantasies became, painting a tapestry of longing and affection that lingered in the quiet spaces of your thoughts, awaiting the moment they might become reality.

you bit your lip, your top teeth sinking into your bottom lip as the vivid image of matt pinning you against the wall with a series of fervent, messy top lip kisses played out in your mind.

you longed for his touch, yearning not only for the tender, romantic gestures that spoke of love and affection but also for the intimate caresses that ignited a deeper, more primal connection between you.

the mere thought of his fingers tracing the contours of your skin sent shivers down your spine, awakening a desire that transcended mere physicality and delved into the very essence of your being.

each imagined touch was a promise of unspoken words, a silent symphony of passion and connection that you craved with every fiber of your existence.

he remains oblivious to the manner in which he has haunted your thoughts so stunningly and slowly, like a ghost that lingers in the shadows of your mind.

his presence, though unseen, weaves through the fabric of your consciousness, leaving an indelible mark that time cannot erase.

each memory of him is a haunting melody that plays incessantly, a slow and mesmerizing tune that captivates your soul and refuses to fade into the background.

you felt the heat in your core intensify, a smoldering ember that grew with every breath, as you let out a soft, languid sigh.

rising from your chair, you moved with a deliberate grace, each step resonating with the silent anticipation that filled the room.

as you approached your bed, the air seemed to thicken, charged with the electricity of your unspoken desires, each movement a testament to the inner fire that burned within you.

your mind conjured vivid and surreal tableaux of you and matt, engaged in the most fantastical and absurd escapades upon the canvas of your bed.

these mental images, rich in detail and brimming with whimsy, transformed the ordinary into a realm of boundless imagination, where reality blurred and the extraordinary became your playground.

each scenario, more outlandish than the last, wove a tapestry of shared adventures that defied the mundane constraints of everyday life.

you shook your head, a twinge of guilt gnawing at the edges of your conscience for harboring such feelings about your best friend.

the internal conflict was palpable, a tempest of emotions swirling within you, as you grappled with the delicate balance between affection and loyalty.

each thought was a whisper of forbidden desire, a silent battle between the heart and the mind, leaving you ensnared in a web of introspection and remorse.

you’re conjuring visions, intricate and vivid, within the labyrinth of your mind. these creations, born of your innermost thoughts, dance before your inner eye, leaving you to ponder whether you are mad, bad, or wise.

the line between reality and imagination blurs, and you find yourself questioning the nature of your own consciousness, a philosopher lost in the depths of introspective wonder.

you crawled onto your bed, the soft fabric yielding beneath you as you nestled your back against the headboard. with deliberate, languid movements, you slowly slid your shorts down, the sensation of the cool air against your skin sending shivers up your spine.

your hands roamed over your bare legs, each touch a tender caress, as your mind painted a vivid picture of matt’s touch, his presence almost palpable in the charged atmosphere of your room.

your mind conjured vivid and uncharted scenes, obscenely tantalizing and foreign to your own experiences.

these mental visions, akin to clandestine trysts, featured chaotic, fervent kisses that left your lips tingling, his hands exploring every inch of your being with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

you bit your lip, the sensation sharp and electric, as you slowly slid a finger along the delicate expanse of your skin.

a gasp escaped your lips, a whisper of breath that seemed to reverberate through the stillness, each movement heightening the anticipation and intensity of the moment.

someone once told you that there are no such things as bad thoughts, that it is only through actions that one's true intentions are revealed. yet, as the tendrils of your mind wove intricate tapestries of imagined encounters, you couldn't help but wonder if it truly mattered.

your thoughts had become so vivid, so consuming, that they blurred the line between reality and fantasy, convincing you that the two of you had already crossed that forbidden threshold.

your breaths grew ragged and uneven, each exhalation a testament to the mounting intensity, as you thrust multiple fingers into the searing warmth of your core. the sensation was overwhelming, a conflagration of desire that left you gasping and trembling, each movement igniting a cascade of shivers through your entire being.

the waves of sensation within your abdomen surged and swelled, building to a crescendo that left you breathless.

tears brimmed in your eyes, a testament to the overwhelming intensity of the moment, each droplet shimmering with the raw emotion coursing through you.

"matt!" you cried out, your voice a mingling of desperation and ecstasy, as you felt yourself inexorably approaching the pinnacle of sensation.

"just like that," you cooed, your voice a soft whisper laced with urgency. "please, matt," you pleaded desperately, each word dripping with raw need, as you pumped with an almost frantic fervor, your motions a testament to the overwhelming desire that consumed you.

the rhythm quickened, your movements driven by a fervent desperation, every fiber of your being focused on the singular goal of reaching the pinnacle of pleasure, the intensity of the moment enveloping you both in a whirlwind of fervent passion.

each breath was a struggle, each heartbeat a drumbeat heralding your imminent release, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment.

"mh- i'm close, matt," you cried out, your voice trembling with anticipation and urgency. each syllable was a raw, unfiltered expression of the approaching climax, the intensity of your emotions palpable in the air.

your body tensed, every muscle coiling in preparation for the imminent release, the words a desperate declaration of the ecstasy that was about to overtake you.

but your voice was abruptly silenced by the sudden, jarring sound of the door swinging open, its movement slicing through the air with a sense of urgency and intrusion.

“y/n?” matt asked, his eyes widened with surprise, yet his orbs were still tracing every bare curve on your body

the knot in your stomach unraveled instantaneously, yet the release eluded you as you withdrew, the waves of pleasure dissipating into the ether.

"oh- oh my god, matt!" you exclaimed, your voice a mixture of mortification and surprise, as you hastily pulled the sheets over yourself, the fabric a flimsy barrier against the overwhelming tide of emotions.

"oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you repeated, each utterance a crescendo of embarrassment, your face buried in your palms, trying to shield yourself from the reality of the situation.

your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the vulnerability laid bare, the intimacy shared now overshadowed by the stark light of self-consciousness.

"y/n, were you-," matt asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur as he closed the door behind him with a quiet click. you nodded, still unable to meet his gaze, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you.

his question lingered, the unvoiced emotions and shared history adding layers of complexity to the moment, your silent acknowledgment speaking volumes as you remained fixated on the floor, the tension palpable in the space you both occupied.

"hey, it's okay," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm against the tension that filled the room. he reached out gently, his touch light and reassuring, as you slowly pulled your hands away from your face.

the atmosphere, thick with unspoken emotions, began to ease slightly, his words weaving a delicate tapestry of comfort and understanding, attempting to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

matt's eyes drifted down to your lap, where the blanket lay in disarray, before slowly rising to meet your gaze once more. "want me to help?" he asked, his voice a tender murmur, the question hanging in the air like a fragile promise.

the sincerity in his eyes conveyed a depth of understanding, as if he sought to bridge the chasm of vulnerability that separated you, offering solace in the midst of your shared uncertainty.

you furrowed your eyebrows, the silence in the room growing thick and heavy.

"what?-" you began to ask, your voice tinged with confusion, but your words were abruptly silenced as matt's lips captured yours in a sudden, unexpected kiss.

the world seemed to tilt, the room's stillness shattered by the intensity of the moment, his actions speaking volumes where words had failed.

you melted into his touch, your body instinctively moving further back against the headboard, creating a space that silently invited matt onto your bed.

he climbed onto it with a fluid grace, his lips never breaking contact with yours, the kiss deepening as the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a moment of shared intimacy and unspoken understanding.

he hastily undid his pants, the urgency in his movements palpable as he momentarily disconnected your lips from his. with swift, almost frantic motions, he discarded the garment, only to return with a fervor that was even more intense.

his lips crashed back against yours, the kiss now charged with a raw, unrestrained hunger that seemed to consume both of you, each touch igniting a deeper, more primal connection.

"please," you whispered against his lips, your breath mingling with his as the words left your mouth. you felt the subtle curve of his smirk against your own, a silent acknowledgment of your plea.

he pulled away, the brief separation heightening the anticipation that crackled between you. with deliberate, almost teasing slowness, he slid down his boxers, each movement a study in restrained desire.

his cock sprang free, glistening with a tantalizing sheen, the sight causing your throat to tighten. you swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, every second stretching into an eternity as the tension between you grew almost unbearable.

"are you sure you want this?" matt asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur that contrasted with the intensity in his eyes, which were filled with a potent mix of lust and understanding.

his gaze bore into yours, seeking confirmation, and you quickly nodded, your heart pounding in response.

the gravity of the moment settled over you both, a silent agreement passing between you as the world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you suspended in a shared desire.

matt leaned down, his every movement a testament to his practiced skill. as his mouth connected with your heat, a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between you, igniting a fire deep within.

his tongue embarked on a slow, tantalizing journey, tracing a path up your clit. each stroke was executed with precision, a masterful blend of pressure and rhythm that sent waves of pleasure cascading through your body. the world around you seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his touch and the rising tide of your arousal. every flick and swirl of his tongue heightened the intensity, drawing you deeper into the vortex of desire that he so expertly commanded.

"matt," you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets with a desperate intensity as he smirked against your heat. the sensation of his mouth connecting to your core was electrifying, a prelude to the overwhelming pleasure that followed.

as he thrust his tongue inside you, a surge of ecstasy coursed through your body, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head. each movement was a symphony of sensation, orchestrated with a skill that left you breathless and yearning for more.

you let out breathy moans, the sound escaping your lips in rhythm with the rising tide of your pleasure. your hand found its way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, unruly locks.

each tug and twist of your fingers seemed to communicate a silent plea, urging him to continue, to delve deeper into the intoxicating dance of sensation and connection.

the world around you faded, leaving only the intensity of the moment and the unspoken bond forged in the heat of passion.

matt brought his mouth up to your clit with a deliberate slowness, each movement calculated to heighten your anticipation. as his lips enveloped the sensitive nub, his tongue retreated, only to be replaced by the deft movements of his fingers.

the transition was seamless, a masterful shift from one form of pleasure to another, leaving you breathless and teetering on the edge of ecstasy. his fingers moved with a practiced rhythm, each stroke and curl designed to draw you deeper into the whirlpool of sensation.

matt curled his fingers inside of you with an expert precision, his touch unerringly finding that elusive sweet spot. the moment his fingers made contact, a surge of intense pleasure shot through you, causing your screams to grow louder and more desperate.

your body jolted upwards, an involuntary response to the overwhelming sensation that rippled through every nerve.

each movement of his fingers seemed to amplify the ecstasy, drawing you further into a realm where time and space ceased to exist, leaving only the raw, unbridled pleasure that he so skillfully elicited.

"close," you whispered, your voice trembling as whimpers began to replace your earlier moans. the knot in your stomach tightened with an almost unbearable intensity, each passing second bringing you closer to the precipice of release.

your body quivered in response, every nerve ending alive with anticipation, as the crescendo of sensations built within you, threatening to spill over in a wave of overwhelming ecstasy.

as the tension within you reached its peak, your breath hitched, and your grip on reality seemed to slip. matt's relentless rhythm continued, each movement synchronized with the pulsating pleasure that consumed you.

your body arched involuntarily, a final desperate plea for release. then, with a sudden, breathtaking intensity, the knot unraveled, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through you, leaving you trembling and gasping in the aftermath.

matt eagerly savored every drop of your essence, his fervor akin to a man partaking in his final, most cherished feast. each slurp was deliberate and thorough, as if he sought to commit the very taste and texture to memory.

his actions were imbued with a sense of urgency and reverence, transforming the moment into an intimate ritual that left you both breathless and profoundly connected.

matt knelt up, his length engorged and flushed with a deep, fervent crimson. his hands, driven by an insatiable desire, found their way to your waist, each touch imbued with a sense of urgency and longing. he pulled you closer, the magnetic pull between your bodies undeniable, as if the very air around you crackled with the intensity of the moment.

"tell me you want this, baby," matt's voice rumbled, a low, gravelly whisper that sent shivers down your spine. his words, laden with anticipation and raw desire, hung in the air as he meticulously aligned his tip with your entrance, the tension between you palpable and electric.

"i- i want it more than anything," you whispered, your voice quivering with a blend of longing and anticipation. your hands, shaking with an almost desperate need, reached out as you pleaded, "please, matt. i want it inside of me." the vulnerability in your tone and the raw, unfiltered desire in your words painted a vivid picture of your yearning.

you didn't have to tell him twice. with a swift, powerful motion, he thrust his hips against yours, the force of his movement eliciting a deep, primal groan from his lips. simultaneously, a moan of unrestrained pleasure escaped your own, the sound a testament to the intense connection and overwhelming sensations coursing through both of you.

matt's eyes fluttered shut, savoring the moment as he remained still within you, a quiet intensity marking the brief pause. after a few heartbeats, he let out a low hiss, his eyes opening to meet yours with a smoldering gaze. "m'gonna start moving, baby," he murmured, his voice a husky promise of the sensations to come.

you nodded desperately, your entire body trembling with an insatiable need to feel more of him. the urgency in your gesture spoke volumes, a silent plea for the connection you craved.

matt, sensing your desperation, began to move his hips against yours with a deliberate, tantalizing slowness. each measured thrust sent waves of electrifying sensation through you, the slow pace intensifying the anticipation and drawing out every moment of your shared desire. the rhythm he set was unhurried yet powerful, a testament to the profound connection between you.

you let out a series of loud, unrestrained moans, each sound a testament to the intense sensations coursing through you.

the initial flickers of pain gradually dissolved, transforming into waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure that consumed your entire being. with each passing moment, the boundary between pain and pleasure blurred, leaving you lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy.

matt's thrusts grew increasingly erratic, each movement more desperate and uncoordinated than the last. the rhythm that once held a steady pace now dissolved into a chaotic dance of passion and urgency.

you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening with an almost unbearable intensity, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. it was as if every fiber of your being was wound tight, ready to burst forth in a torrent of overwhelming sensation.

the air around you seemed to thicken, charged with the raw, unfiltered energy of your shared desire, creating a crescendo that promised an inevitable release.

matt's lips found yours, a fervent connection that mirrored the growing intensity of his movements. with each passing second, his thrusts increased in speed and urgency, creating a rhythm that was both chaotic and harmonious. the kiss deepened, a melding of breaths and desires, as the pace of his thrusts quickened.

the world around you seemed to blur, leaving only the raw, electrifying connection between your bodies and the fervent dance of passion that ensued.

your legs entwined around his torso with a fervent intensity, drawing him into an even more profound depth, as if seeking to merge your very essences in that moment of unparalleled connection.

the strength of your embrace conveyed a silent plea for closeness, urging him deeper with each heartbeat, creating a symphony of shared desire and unspoken understanding.

it was as though your bodies were communicating in a language beyond words, each movement a testament to the profound bond you shared.

"i'm close," you whisper, your voice trembling with an urgent need as matt's teeth leave a trail of fervent love bites along your neck. each bite sends shivers cascading down your spine, a juxtaposition of pleasure and pain that heightens your anticipation. the air around you thickens with the palpable tension, every whispered word and gentle bite weaving an intricate tapestry of desire and longing.

"give it to me," matt grumbles softly, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through you. he plants soft kisses around your hickeys, each touch a tender contrast to the intensity of his demand. as you release with a loud moan, the world seems to blur at the edges, and every sensation amplifies, creating a symphony of pleasure that resonates between you, binding your bodies in a moment of exquisite, shared ecstasy.

you squirm as matt groans, his voice a deep, primal sound that reverberates through your entire being. your walls tighten around him instinctively, creating a vice-like grip that draws a guttural release from him, deep inside you.

the moment stretches, filled with an electric tension, as every nerve in your body sings with the intensity of the shared climax, a testament to the profound connection that binds you both in this intimate dance.

matt thrusted in and out of you slowly, each deliberate movement mixing your juices together in a sensuous rhythm. the friction and heat between you build with every thrust, creating a symphony of shared pleasure.

finally, he pulls out, the sensation lingering as he collapses next to you, both of you enveloped in the afterglow of your shared passion, breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

matt soon rises and strides towards your bathroom, his movements purposeful yet unhurried. after a brief moment, he returns with a damp towel in hand, the coolness of the fabric contrasting with the warmth of your shared intimacy.

his care and attention in this simple act speak volumes, a silent testament to the tenderness that underlies your passionate connection.

matt gently wipes the beads of sweat from your body, each stroke of the towel a tender caress that soothes and refreshes.

as he finishes, he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your lips, the gesture imbued with a quiet intimacy that speaks to the deep connection you share, a silent promise of care and affection in the aftermath of your shared passion.

"so, i take it you like me?" he smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. your laughter bubbles up, light and infectious, as you playfully swat him, the gesture a blend of affection and teasing.

[alienwithobsessions]

Scenario I can't get out of my head:

THE GHOUL

- Reader has her period while wandering alone through the wasteland. Cramps get so bad she falls to the ground in the open. She's also dehydrated, so she passes out.

Cooper finds her and can smell the blood, so obviously ferals will too. He decides to hide her somewhere until he can figure out what to do with her.

Examination of his discovery, covers her with his coat to mask the smell of human and blood, internal thought process, pros and cons, memories of wife's periods, how can he help, why should he. Decides to keep her alive for a while longer.

Reader awakens, confusion, shock, fear. *cramps* Cooper is gruff but not too mean, sarcastic but understanding.

Some talking, explanations of what, why, where she's headed to. Decide to get her help (find pain relieving drugs and/or safe way to hide the smell of blood, like tampons if they still exist).

Search isn't successful, it's dangerous (even come across feral or 2).

Eventually...Cooper offers a way to relieve her cramps and mask the smell of blood...he fingers her for the former, p in v for the latter.

[darkdemeter]

𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐈

— BUCKY BARNES COLUMN (ONESHOT)

Dark Pirate! Bucky Barnes x Siren! Female Reader

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

| A/N | DISCRETION |

A/N — Ey yo let’s go! Here it is, part 2!

Dark, pirate Bucky — possessive Bucky, also feat. possessive reader — profanity — angst! — mention of alcohol — pet names ("Siren") — SMUT 18+ Minors DNI — unprotected (given) p in v sex — mention of marks/hickeys — there be depiction of wenches/prostitutes — semi-exhibitionism — mention of memory wipe through magic — minor cigar consumption (not reader) — very brief depiction of harm against a crew member — Rumlow, he's a bit of a sly creep — I think that's it?

| SUMMARY |

You are his siren. Why do you insist on your curiosity when you know it will only get you into trouble? In your captain's search for the ancient treasure, a temple only you know the location of, the voyage will take momentary port in Nassau. Mina, a fellow siren, reveals to you the dark truth that you have been blind to. Lied to. She encourages you to take back the necklace. The time to be a siren is now, to lure your captain into a false sense of devotion, that your sights and desires only draw to him; and not the necklace bound to his hand and the secrets he's been keeping from you.

*6.1𝐤 ────────────────┘

| M-LIST | TAGLIST:

@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic @mostlymarvelgirl @daddy-bucky @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @armystay89

────────────────┘

Dawn kisses the horizon’s rolling waters, erasing the wicked hue of intermingling black and blue with colours brighter, more promising, to bloom over sky and sea. A sight that portraits serenity in order to inspire a welling of hope. The flaming orb of heat commands to stir the once slumbering crew into action. Little does it work to awaken your captain, already awake and buried deep in the channel of your cunt, his cock surges forward aggressively, tip kissing your cervix with each powerful snap of his hips. 

  Relentless, he rolls in tandem with the rock of the ship, a string of grunted breaths and deep, stuttering groans thrum in the cavern of his large chest, heart hammering against his ribcage. 

  He pulls from you another countless orgasm to add to another countless hour of this tortuous bliss. A flushing, white and hot, seizes hold of you and beckons your body to respond accordingly, trained in his art of greed your legs drag over the terrain of defined muscle to bring him impossibly closer. Skin melding to inked skin, sweat laced bodies mingling in heated, frictional euphoria. 

  “Y’love that, Siren? Huh,” he pants on the shell of your ear, “love it when I have you full of me?”

  You mewl a small, whiney sound. 

  “Yes—” you intake sharply, “C-Captain…”

  “Aye, say it again.” He growls deeply, teeth nip the lobe of your ear, his nose buried in the crook of your neck inhales deeply the sweet dew of your flushed skin. Rough and strong, his hands have yours pinned, as he does your entire body, pressed against blood-red and snowy white velvets and silks and dark, exotic furs once belonging to pompous princes. Now, they belong to the king of the sea and his siren. Hips rolling together in time, fingers interlacing, woven together in bound strength to hold each other as guarded lifelines, the webbing between your slender digits draws and withdraws from their tucked beds of skin. Pupils conflict between dark, slitted lines and circular globes of blackness blown in pleasure. 

  “Shit… fuck– so fuckin’ tight, Siren!” he hisses, “mine… only mine.”

  Already your core burns enticingly, welcoming another orgasm that follows closely behind your one just prior. His navel arcs to brush your clit, the girth of his cock strikes true each time, he pummels harder and faster, his tip the only portion to remain before he thrusts forward with a moistened glide.

  Corded notes of pleasure are threaded into hitched knots, producing small, hiccuping whines as your abused, slickened walls constrict around his cock to milk him of every drop. The small bridge of your back arches, the smooth surface of your salty skin gliding over the defined divots and scars of his muscular front, inch by inch you feel him everywhere; both outside and inside. 

  He’ll never let you go. As a man who prides himself in the fine freedoms of piracy, he’s a blackened heart that guards you with vigorous possessiveness. Nor do you think you’re capable of ever leaving him. He is all you have. He is yours just as much as you are his. 

  The treasure he covets with unmatched greed. No woman on this earth could ever encounter what you have above you and between your quivering legs that loop tightly over his strong waist. And because of this, you equally covet this treasure of yours. 

  His cock ruts your cervix roughly, tugging forth a long, high noted yelp underlined with a breathy huff, the rhythm of his hips stutters at the sound. His pink lips find yours, tongue drawing over your own, your submission allowing him to do as he pleased. He feeds off the chorus of your breathless song, a song meant just for him. Because of him. 

  “Fuckin’ hell…” His voice rasps, teeth sinking into the bend where your shoulder and neck meet. “Love it when y’sing for m— me.” A gut-emitted groan reverberates in his chest, Skin meets skin in synchronised slapping, raw and primal with need. Wooden legs rub and claw the floorboards with heavy creaks. 

  “L–look atcha… huh, whiney and cock drunk– mmm, gonna make you scream for me, Love.”

  His thrusts grow as ruthless as the brewing storms of the sea, lashing and rocking you beyond the point of refusal. There is no denying, no pushing away. Not when it comes to your captain. 

  “C’mon, Siren—” He pants with a series of rushing thrusts that pin you down. “Sing for me.” 

  The erected peeks of your breasts are tender as they push against his chest. You whimper softly. 

  “Captain…”

  “Aye, louder,” he growls. Of his flesh hand, his knuckles whiten dangerously until the skin melts over bone. Another harsh snap of his hips sends you spiralling on the verge of your orgasm.

  “Captain—” you gasp and he bites down into the bevel between your collarbone with a rasping growl. “Captain!”

  Your velvety walls tighten around the hardened length penetrating you, filling you, his cock encumbered by the vice of your cunt. The blinding flash covers your vision and heat spreads through every corner of your body, leaving nothing but a siren blinded in lustful bliss. He groans with each drag and push, muscles glistening in the soft glow of the rising sun. The flowing wave of his precious seed finds purchase in your lower abdomen. 

  It’s not until he completely empties his hot load, does he finally slow his pace to a stop. Above you he pants heavily, each breath reminding you of the sea’s spray and sun-tainted breeze that tousles the darkened locks of his hair. 

  Your energy sapped from the unbridled temper of your beloved captain, you find reprieve in the gentleness of his tongue tracing the numerous dark marks covering your skin - his marks. 

  “Know this…” His voice rumbles lowly, his flesh hand harbouring the necklace dangles it mere inches over your parted lips. “There is nothing for you to find in a dried pearl, Siren. I am all you need.” 

  Metal squeezes your jawline, pursuing your understanding. The pink tip of his tongue wets his lips and he arches a brow.

  “Yes…”

  You needn’t be jostled twice by the threat of his grasp, you whisper, voice barely audible, “…Captain.”

  “Atta girl.” 

   Arriving at port in Nassau means safe haven for the crew of The Avenger, a chance to rekindle spirits with a few dozen barrels of liquor and a woman’s belly to keep any weathered sailor happy. In the Caribbean’s turning and heating morn, gulls scavenge for pickings of food, the white banks of sand converging with the blue tinged tide bathe the nudity of your feet with absorbed heat, it brings an irate wince to cross your features. Over the vast stretch of beach and headed further inland, the jolly tune of harboured pirates emit from the wooden, creaky shacks, if not counting the ruckus of noisy patrons enjoying their paid company. 

  Never did your captain have need for such sleaziness, such lazed women who lounge in wait for coins to fill the near-always empty drawstring bag tied to their thigh. He had you.   To hold you close to the scorching warmth of his battle hardened body, to passionately entangle your limbs in an endless thread of desire, and to bask in the radiance that is one another; the possession of a companion no other can have.

  And your own guard for your beloved captain doesn’t go unnoticed, by either him or the hungering gazes of those women yet in wait, your arms encircling around the bulk of Bucky’s flesh arm, in your neck the muscles strain as your fangs become elongated in a threatening display, the disguise of your eyes falters into narrow strips of glaring obsidian. 

  These women are no strangers to the presence of sirens, in spite of the limited number of population, a siren’s prize is never to be taken from her. 

  “Easy, Lass,” Bucky coos, lips drawn on either side into a charming grin. “There’s none suiting my fancy but you.”

  His assurances brighten refocused pupils and the lines around your mouth pull into a smirk. The now scornful glares of ladies unworthy of his time burn into you, and you in turn purse the tip of your tongue between your lips in retaliation. Behind, you hear a few members of the crew huff in their amusement. 

  With the crew tailing loyally behind their captain, each body a weighted husk ready to drown themselves in all that Nassau offers, the striking colour of a scarlet coat saunters forward in the corner of your vision. In a briefly stolen glance to your side, the brilliance of her green irises invade you with a soulless engagement, full lips drawn into a thin line and below the crimson stripe of her bandana, her brows are furrowed. 

  It comes to mind Bucky’s attendance on deck to anchor the ship at port, and so too does the possible thought that during that increment amount of time, Bucky could have very well informed Wanda of your curious skirmish ending in upheaval, caught red handed in the act. 

  And yet the events, the memory of what you experienced - the estranged bond you shared with the necklace - all of it remains. No bouts of stomach churning nausea or blurred hazes that leave you to stumble on your two feet, abandoning you to the mindless plane of confusion where memory is your worst and forgotten enemy. 

  And you prefer to keep it that way. These invasions that leave you more curious, sensing something greatly amiss the more of its occurrence is known, perhaps it’s best if you surrender the search. Your captain is all you need. Nevermind the ghostly songs that haunt the realm beneath the surface. Maybe, just maybe, there is good reason why you don’t remember anything. And if you cease this affair, then maybe with the grace of your beloved, that there will be no need to be swallowed into the misty thicket of her dark, scarlet magic. 

  I am my captain’s siren. I must remain with him. He is all I have. All I want to have…

    ‘Mm hm, mm hm, mm~hmm~hm~mm… mhm.,.’

  The melody chimes to lure your attention, the trickery of the voices blooms thickly throughout the forefront of your mind. You press to ignore the empty promise of their secrets revealed. This search ends now. No more. In defiance to the woeful, bleeding song of murmured hums, your arms hold tighter to Bucky, his chin dips low as his blue eyes look you over, gorgeous eyes of the ocean, captured within the handsome sculpture of his visage. A forbidden make of marble, carven with perfection in mind. 

  ‘Mm hm, mm hm, mm~hm—’

  “Something the matter, Siren?” thrums the husky drawl of your captain. You turn your eyes - your entire form of attention - to him, devoting it to him alone, and not to the tune that wanes with grieving cries that drown in the mists of that plane. You shake your head with refined elegance and bring a smile to grace him with. 

  “Nothing, my Captain,” you purr sweetly. Voice soft enough to easily die in the crashing of heavy waves, but so throbbing to the heart that the lilted beat of your voice could never be lost to him. Bucky grins at your words, respite is found in the security of your vow. Not only does your answer satisfy him immensely, but it draws Wanda’s intense focus away from you. 

  The quartermaster, Steve Rogers, is met in an engulfing embrace by a striking brunette with bouncy curls, lips bright and red and grinning, brown eyes sparkling in the Nassau’s brimming sun. Truth be told, she was far too pretty to be a mere human, her beauty akin to a glistening ruby, and maybe it saddens you the littlest bit that she foresees you with eyes of weariness rather than friendliness. 

  Perhaps if she were a siren herself, you’d both have settled together rather fondly as friends - as bonded sisters. But alas, with her own treasure now ashore for now, she takes to him and welcomes him with moaning cords and absorbing kisses, Bucky chuckles slyly with a wink to his exhausted friend. 

  Weather-beaten tables score the large deck of the tavern, most of them being vacant outside, but given the beginnings of your skin drying out, Bucky takes care to situate you as close to a shaded spot. Something you are noticeably grateful for with your cheek nuzzling into the openly revealed space of his chest, the belted strips of leather strapped over his chest warm your skin as well as his skin. 

  Casting you in flittering shadows are the swaying palms, their long and prickly spine leaves howling in the sea’s constant winds driven ashore. While other members of the crew flee to their own affairs to relax, those of Bucky’s inner circle remain close, like cards held to his chest, and you being the winning ace of his games, are held the closest. 

  “Restock of the ship’s supplies will take all day, not to mention, the girl needs a few restorations herself,” says Bruce, spectacles resting low upon the bridge of his nose, eyes finalising his scrawlings as his voice confirms. His hand runs over the plump of his cheek with a drained sigh, middle finger pushing the brass loop of his glasses upwards. 

  “And that’ll spend us… half our funds.”

  “Wouldn’t need to waste so much coin on crackers ‘nd other shite, had someone not snuck ‘round like a rat.” Clint’s eyes squint in his accusation towards none other than the master of maps and navigation, Stark, who partakes in defending himself behind a weak shrug. 

  “There’s actual rats aboard. T’wasn’t me.”

Clint’s upper lip curls into a sneer, the ship’s cook primed to render Stark into salted meatloaf, a dullened knife he took to using in both battle and kitchen is held in his nimble fingers. 

  “Fuckin’ thievin’—”

  “Quit your squabbling,” rumbles your captain, “strike what isn’t needed for the voyage. Double on reinforcements and armoury.” His gruff voice sends tingles through your still connected cheek to his front, content in hearing its booming and steady beat. Bruce nods and returns his gaze downward to his leatherbound companion, quill resipping ink, he scribbles into his book once again, humming and murmuring to himself. 

  Bruce Banner, though quite brutal in the midst of battles, is a relatively quiet man who tends to keep to himself for most of his membership as a crewmate. Often he dwells below decks, counting stock, taking note of damages and overall engaging the skin of parchment rather than a woman. 

   Not to completely disregard the sometimes scarce glances between himself and the fiery, flintlock dancer herself, Natasha, eyes meeting between the wooden blanks separating their worlds from dark to light. If history is planted there, there is little to know in your knowledge - your hazy knowledge. From what you’ve gathered, Natasha has a tongue that leaves many of the males on board chest torn and heart bleeding, in dire need for her to bandage them with a moment of her time. Time that she rather spent either dancing in the heat of conflict, pulling the ship in order or occupy herself with you. 

  In comparison to the neighbouring woman often skulking silently by Bucky’s heel like a prowling animal on a leash, Natasha offered you what nobody else truly had; a connection. Someone you can maybe call friend. 

  By no means is she completely softened around you, she pushes you beyond your limits, but in her interactions with you, she layers herself with a bout of steadiness and calm to keep you level headed at best. She even takes the time to teach you letters and words of human speech. Too nervous to ask such a tedious task of your own captain, it had been Natasha called upon to teach you.

   Under her mentorship, she had governed you away from the native tongue of your sea dwelling folk, and what had at first been mistaken as the ship’s adored feline, Alpine coughing up a fish bone, had just been you taking the first step in learning to speak the language of humans. Only then and afterwards did your captain also take part in your teaching, albeit through a more erotic means of lessons behind the closed door of his cabin. 

  Steve returns with a sway to his step, Peggy held snug to his hip, the two bound by invisible, sticky sap that glues them together. “We’ve drinks comin’, Cap!” He laughs with a clap to Bucky’s broad shoulder, jostling you forward with a startled whine, eyes stinging and dry in alertness. 

  You miss catching it at first, the sharpened glare of ice in his eyes towards Steve for his abrupt disturbance of you, the blonde haired man, lass-drunken already, clicks his tongue with a grimace of offered sincerity, uttering a quiet apology under his heated breath.

  Bucky is only willing to let his scowl go after you assure the quartermaster that there is no harm done, excusing yourself that your fatigue had gotten the better of your guard. 

  Flared tempers now cooled, Steve leans back against the rickety stage of the deck’s plank railing. The ruffled skirts of his companion’s dress ride a little higher on her thigh as she rests it over his lap, drawstring bag visible… and fattened with coin. Paid very early in advance. Paid full with at least three weeks worth of salary strapped to her leg. 

  A chorus of cheers spill out into the open air when tankards of foam-headed refreshments are delivered. Tony’s chapped lips bend around a cigar stick, catching a flame to his match by the heel of his boot, he lights it and puffs a smog that brings your nose to wrinkle and lungs to jump. 

  “Right,” he says, the end of the word lost in its pronunciation, “Down ter business.” The master of maps of navigation procures from his coat rolled parchments and lays them flat to the wooden rot, he knocks a knuckle hard in indication of the pirate’s haven. 

  “We’re here, Lassy. Show us where it is.” Silence falls over those of the inner circle, each pair of eyes lace between the strewn papers and your expression, gauging the lines around your eyes that speak of your concentration. In wait for either your truthful answer or another lie. 

  The tips of your fingers run the inked lines that describe the landmarks of islands, points of interest, known ship routes and x marks, whilst your captain’s own fingers trace along the outer of your thigh teasingly beneath the cover of your robe and the table. His touch is distracting you, but could you be to blame for their failure in search of the ancient treasure? After all, your memory wasn’t of best quality these days. 

  Tony rolls his fingers in a drumming pattern, each minute it grows louder and pounds in your eardrums, the wafting curtain of thick, cigar smoke clouds your senses. 

  Your captain, scowling at this, shoots his metal arm forward and plucks the cigar from Tony’s mouth and pushes the burning ash and tobacco into the veiny hide of his bare hand. Tony bites a string of curses as his hand retracts. 

  “Next time, it’s shoved down your fuckin’ throat, got it?” 

  “Aye, Cap…,” mutters Tony. He shoots you a seething glare but nevertheless, relinquishes his attempts to intimidate you into answering. 

  “You forget, sirens speak a certain way.” Comes the low purr of his lilt, breath hot against the shell of your ear, the encouragement of his hand snakes your thigh over into his lap, leaving your core, though hidden to others, exposed to his addictive touch. Your breath becomes latched in your lungs, struggling to be free and your toes curl as his flesh hand slips between your parted legs. “You just need to know how…” 

  You barely hide the hiccup in your erupting breath. His thumb, rough and firm, toys with the delicate bud that spurs the welling of arousal to moisten your folds. Behind the sealed line of his lips, he breezes a rich chuckle that courts you with promised, devoting attention to your clit, circling it slowly as the long, thick body of his middle finger runs further down your folds. The chill of gold grinds into your skin gently, the pearl hums lowly in the deep reverie of your mind once more, grazing your skin with a harmonic resurgence against the combating of Bucky’s explorative touch. 

  If the air had been thick with the sun’s heat before, then it was downright unbreathable now, your skin aches and itches to be submerged in the tranquil waters. You all but claw a single rocky formation on the far edge of the map. All eyes zero in on the point, taking in the towering form of inked rocks. 

  “You’ve to be jokin’,” Clint hisses quietly. Sam Wilson is the next to speak with a sigh, “That’s a death wish, Captain.”

  “Siren, you’re sure?” Your head bows slowly to Bucky’s question and his thumb ceases its movement. Your finger situated over the landmark trembles, your throat is dry, saliva collects in thick rivulets and makes it difficult to swallow your despair. 

  Hushed whispers fall over the crew as Bucky’s smouldering eyes darken in thought, contemplating the high stakes. For your finger lands not just on the precise location of the temple harbouring the world’s greatest treasure horde any pirate or king alike could dream of. 

  It spans over into dangerous, uncharted territory. Territory that resides as a mass graveyard for ships and souls. The Misted Song Isles. 

  A bedded corner of the world untouched by sunlight, forever shrouded in a mist that never falters in its opacity, leaving many blinded to the ambushing predators that await them. 

  These cousins are the cause of your repulsion. They are not sirens. They do not possess the ability to sing beautifully anymore. That which haunts the mists are not curated melodies to turn a heart soft and a man stirred in longing, no, but devilish shrieks and wallowing howls that scream in revel of their kill.

  “Captain, think about this for a sec—” The quartermaster, as is everyone else, silenced within an instant. You yelp and pull your hand close to your chest as the sharpened point of a blade punctures right where your finger had been. Your heart races against your ribcage. 

  “We set sail at dawn.” 

  His command goes unchallenged and hangs in the eeriness of uncertainty. His lips formulate into that smirk, daring of the course ahead, ready to face whatever thrilling adventure awaits him and his hardened crew. 

  “Prepare yourselves. We’ll soon amass a fortune like no other. Riches beyond belief,” Bucky preaches with a deepened, growling cord, thumb reviving the pleasing buzz between your thighs. Your head presses back into his shoulder, arching your core slightly into his hand. “I’ve never known those of my crew to shrink away from glory and plunder. So what of it, mates? Are you lot ready to take what’s ours?”

  “Aye!” erupts a booming throng of cheers and hollering, tankards fly skyward with trickling, foamy ales, and fists pound the tables enthusiastically. From you, Bucky draws a softened, pleasured whine only captured by his ears, a musical note he licks his teeth in savouring delight. 

  “What a rousing speech, Captain Barnes. Touches my own heart.” The inner circle becomes disrupted, parting into a narrow corridor to give their captain sight of the outsider. Bucky’s thumb comes to pause again, much to the displeasure of your quiet grumbling, your eyes seek out the intruder and gape with widened eyes. 

    “Rumlow,” growls Bucky. His hand bares upon your thigh a tightening squeeze. 

  Brock Rumlow, captain of The Lady Strike, stands present, brown coat beaten and done in by the rough life at sea, tricorn equal in match to the rest of his dishevelled attire. Dark, matted and oily hair is swept behind his ears, stubble very much unkempt and in need of a shave. His brown eyes take in the near bareness of your form, your hand pulls the robe’s fabric over your already covered breasts, and Bucky curls you further inward, protecting you from the fowl leering of Rumlow’s dark eyes. His jaw is set hard as a deep, possessive growl emits from his large chest, the storm of his jealousy on the rise. 

  With a cock of his head, Tony shoves the plans back into the confines of his coat with a huff, missing the tangy flavour of his cigar.

  By now, those of Rumlow’s crew move in behind him, a battle of glares and curled snarls, only one amongst the opposing crew brings a grin to fall over your face, eyes brightened in relief. Long, raven black hair sweeping down the curve of her back, strips of plaits are decorated with beads and small shells, A tall and lean build of a woman a few years older of your age, eyes the shape of almonds and disguised as kindly, sparkling hazels of greens and browns. 

  Her thin lips form a smile to match her tender features. You barely have another chance to second guess your next move, taking care to keep the intricately patterned robe around to protect your modesty, you push yourself away from your captain and fly into her open arms, her embrace a welcomed one after all these weeks. 

  “Mina!” 

  She greets your name with a softened breath, the calming lull of a siren’s power. The prodding of shells poke into your chest, but you pay little heed to them, too much absorbed into a fellow siren’s hold. To be held and nurtured by one so connected to the sea as you, and who is also held prisoner above its beckoning tides. 

  “My dear, your skin!” she gasps. Her lithe fingers skim the lengths of your exposed shoulders, shoving under the flowy sleeves to do the same along your arms. “How long has it been since—”

  “She does not speak that way anymore.” 

  The voice of your captain is sharp, cutting right through to the bone, it chills you. You know you did wrong by your actions, caught in the flurry of your excitement to meet Mina. He hadn’t expressed his permission for you to leave his side.

  Her eyes forecast the irritated slits, the ridge of her mouth shifting. You shake your head quickly. “Don’t…”

  She listens to your plea and directs her gaze aside, retrieving back a more composed appearance. “Apologies, Captain Barnes. I forget her tongue falters and is now consumed by human speech. Please, forgive me.”

  His eyes stare point blank akin to the barrel of his flintlock, finger locked ahold of the trigger and primed to fire a metal ball right between her eyes. He takes into account that her voice is dry in its sincere case that begs forgiveness. A case he finds unmoving. 

  And so it falls to you. Her arms fall from around you reluctantly, you press on towards Bucky, hands caressing the carved shape of his jawline. “Please, Captain… forgiveness?”

  For a moment he is silent, his stare unwavering and unblinking, it churns your innards unassuredly. “Aye.” His response brings you to breathe again with a smile. You swallow thickly, steadying yourself with the words you have become accustomed to, at first rehearing it over in your thoughts before you speak.

  “May I go to the Pools? My skin… is dry.” As if to further accentuate, the inflection of your voice matches your statement, having to clear your throat gently. 

  He nods. “Very well, Love. Hour’s half.” Ingratiating yourself in his good graces, you capture his lips in yours, his own chase after your brief kiss but the embarrassment that they give away just how parched your body is steers you away quickly. 

  You are blind to the narrowing of cold, steely eyes following Mina who walks at your side, arms encircling around you protectively, her own eyes meeting the ferocity of Bucky’s glare, her own hardened stare watered down to save you from being caught in the crossfire for her temper. She knows that you would suffer just as well as her if Bucky turned his decision around. 

  The conversing crews are drowned out noise in the back of your head, Mina guides you along the dirt path towards the haven’s centre. 

  The Pools, a central hub that extends low into the island’s heart, and a system of interconnected tunnels for sirens to rejuvenate their exerted bodies, confining them to an enclosure with no means to swim directly back into the ocean. By all means, it was a natural formation turned into a cage. 

  Peering over the rocky lips, the inviting waters below reflect minute glimpses of the sun, a portion of it concealed under the shrubbery and towering palms. The hue of bright blue blankets the surface before the long stretch of abyssal black that cascades down the rock walls.

  The waters, as expected, are vacant of any other sirens, and those scarce few could only be seen in flashes of shining scales and shadows moving beneath, dipping into the mouths of the tunnels. Hidden from sight.

  You shed the covering of your robe and set it aside, its luxurious fabric smelling of yours and Bucky’s intermingling scents, the decorative stitchwork and colours flaunt it as one of a kind, a nabbed piece from a Japanese merchant schooner Bucky and his crew pillaged, and which your captain presented to you as a gift. The first of many he would later present. Intriguing artefacts.

  Mina didn’t have need to discard herself of human-given clothing, plunging into the heavenly waters before you, her attire made with the natural ingredients of the sea, leather strips and woven cords stretch around her chest and back with rings of shells to fasten over it, keeping her breasts pushed together. The wispy lengths of her skirt flows with sheeted seaweed, circling around her slim waist as a ghostly curtain. You follow not long after with an eager dive, your nude skin is soothed by the cool waters. Your legs morph together into the singular, powerful tendril of your trail, the webbed fins attached to your lower back flutter like the wings of a dove finding freedom on the winds. 

  Your bodies take refuge below the surface, skin no longer assaulted by the lacerations of the sun’s light and blazing scorch. How sailors could idle by whilst under the cruelty of it, you will never understand. Your back arches into a spiralling twist, a high pitched chirp bouncing from your throat and coursing through your gills. 

  You bask in the excitement with Mina who twists and bends, circling you with a teasing swish of her tail, she gargles a sweet note that bubbles around her lips, her forehead presses to yours affectionately. 

  She intends to regard you with the native speech of your kind but stops, brows falling into a firm, saddened line over her eyes. In shame, your head bows. 

  Those of your crew may have stripped you of your right to recollect the siren dialect, but if she can count on anything, it is the motion of her hands and arms. The common communication of one’s body. 

  In a sequence of expertise, her arms rotate and her fingers stretch and curl. 

  What do you remember?

  Your eyes analyse her movement, careful to decipher her code. Not as fluent, given the occasional puzzled twist of her head, followed by a nod of understanding and correcting signal, she encourages through your hesitation, wanting for your answer. 

  I… remember a necklace. Bound to my Captain’s wrist.

  And what did this necklace look like?

  Again, it takes you a moment to find the rhythm of your response, her eyes narrow in their deep seated concentration, almond curved eyes that widen upon realisation.

  You tell her of the golden chain, sleek and elegantly thin yet strengthened, the many, tiny crystallised pearls that line the gilded netting over one larger pearl, with a finer shaped one looped beneath it that dangles.

  Given her momentary pause, you nervously motion. 

  What is it? 

  She raises her hand over her head, webbed fingers fused together, she rotates her wrist in circles.

  Royalty. Pearls represent royalty. 

  The sudden confusion presently blinking in your eyes gives Mina reason to continue. She moves quickly, it’s hard to exactly understand, you motion for her to pace herself, that you’re struggling. With an apologetic chirp, she starts over. 

  You must get it back. That necklace is more significant to you than you realise. Undoubtedly, a gift from your late mother—

I don’t understand! What… of my mother?

  Mina truly sees the sickening infection of your hazy memory, all too aware that it’s the doing of that scarlet witch, tainted by the dark magics that spawn from the mangroves, the teachers there no strangers to utilising sirens as part of their rituals. And all by the order of your captain. A crew lacing you with deceit. 

  Her waterline is touched by tears that form into uplifting bubbles. She organises her words slowly. Each one brings a sharp pang to your chest and your stomach to drop further and further down into the abyss below. 

  Your mother - the Queen - is dead. 

  Your heart is scored by the penetrating daggers of Poseidon's trident, the creeping of unnatural coldness sweeps the back of your neck and down over your shoulders, you huddle into yourself. You shake your head and it ensues into a maddening display of denial, your body trembles, the water grows increasingly troubled, once a calm settlement over the surface now laps at the surrounding edges of the enclosure. 

  This cannot be right, this cannot be the truth. No, you don’t wish to believe it. A weight is crushing around your chest, you want to resurface. For the first time, you crave to be out of the water. All you seek now is the scent of your captain washing over you, drowning you passionately in his possessive devotion, to be treasured by him and him alone, bathed in his dominating presence. His shadow. 

  At this point, you’d happily let him fuck the knowledge out of you. 

  In your abrupt desperation you take to moving swiftly, your head breaches through the barrier with a sputtering fit of coughs and gulps, but Mina follows you. Her webbed hand catches your wrist, her voice plucks through the ripples like the baritone string of a guitar. She calls for you to wait. Gently, she coaxes you to delve below once more, her eyes imploring you to remain, to not go running off to the very same man who wants for you and holds you captive. 

  The milky glaze of your eyes brim with tears, tiny bubbles run to the corners before they float upwards. 

  She rests her head to yours, silky thumbs caring over the form of your cheeks, running smoothly under the bend of your tearful eyes. When she believes you have calmed, she asks another question. 

  What else about this necklace can you tell me?

  I hear… voices. A-a melody. I don’t– don’t understand the words. It plays faintly.

  If the crew who harbours you stays for the festivities tonight, get the necklace and bring it to me. I may be able to appraise it.

  A lump catches in your throat, eyes bearing your terror, the harrowing thought of being caught again. You aren’t sure if the potential of another scarlet mist is worth the risk. 

  Steal it? I-I can’t! He’d know if I stole—

  You cannot steal what’s already yours, young one. Besides, you know just the way to get it from him. I saw the softened regard in his gaze for you. 

  What she suggests is laughable, and your disagreement shows, your head shaking and throat bobbing in motion akin to a scoff. But still, her insinuation brings warmth to bloom in your cheeks. Her brows furrow at this display, tail idly swaying, the length of her hair creating a dark, winding halo behind her. She dissects the gestures of your words. 

  His gaze never softens to me…

  In spite of this, she rolls her eyes, but they are hopeful in their stare towards you. You were done with the search… before. Now, you want answers. 

  “Siren!” A familiar voice booms, tone muffled by the watery barrier. Answering his summons, you return to the world above, sighing a deep breath of air, the few faces you recognise are mere blurs, unfocused in your vision. Your eyes meet the wintery cold of his eyes, not softened, and clouded in their ever present desire to have you under him - pinned skin to skin to him - and his beautiful lips shaped into a smirk. His stance high above you dominates you in his darker shadow that casts over the water. 

  “Hope you’re in a festive mood, my little Siren.”

[hottpinkpenguin]

congrats on the followers!! and super excited for this event. am looking forward to see lots of good stuff! And i am also here to request! Can we maybe get some Nikolai smut with the prompt "Don't cover your face. I want to see you" 👉👈

A/n: has there ever been a more perfect specimen for smut fics? i think not. so, nikolai, thank you bb for being so perfectly FINE. here you go anon - hope you like it!! actually several of you requested nikolai smut, so this one's for all y'all, you're my people and i'm here for it.

18+ only!!!! MINORS DNI

Nikolai Lanstov X Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,342 Warnings: smut, absolutely no plot, unprotected sex, P in V, fingering, sprinkles of praise kink, creampie

(i'm sorry, i know i've already used this gif on another fic but srsly ppl wut else am i supposed to use for a nikolai smut fic?! this gif is unholy and i love it)

The knock at your bedchamber door was fast, urgent. Four sharp taps, rapid fire. You could hear his need in those knocks. 

You weren’t far from the door, pacing with a suffocating mix of desire, impatience, and nerves. It had been so long since you’d seen Nikolai, you wondered if the arrangement you two had fallen into the last time you’d lived here would still apply. But those knocks told you everything you needed to know. He remembered, and you did too. 

He was on you before the door closed behind him. His mouth crashed against yours, the familiar taste of his mouth awakening memories you’d tried so hard to suppress. His hands tangling in your hair, squeezing your cheek, ripping at the thin fabric of your nightgown. Desperate, hungry. Just the way you liked him. 

He pulled back from the kiss just long enough to look at you. His gaze roamed over you like wind, a feral smile lighting up his face. 

“Gods I’ve missed you.” His voice had grown deeper, so gravelly it sounded like a growl. That familiar heat sparked to life between your legs. 

You grabbed him, twisting your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck the way you knew he liked. You kissed him deeply, your tongue shamelessly diving into his mouth, devouring every inch of him you could taste. 

You broke the kiss, twisting his face away from you as you planted a line of kisses along his jawline, working your way back and down to the soft spot where his neck met his shoulder. You sucked, then nibbled there softly. His breath hitched in his throat, his head tipped back, eyes closed, giving himself over to you. 

Your hands made quick work of the buttons at the front of his jacket, and he finished the rest, throwing it towards the chair in the corner of your dimly lit bedchamber. Running the tip of your tongue up to his earlobe, he moaned, pulling his undershirt up and out of his trousers. You reluctantly pulled back from him to let the shirt slide up and over his head before it too was discarded along with his jacket. 

Your hands remembered the feel of his warm skin, the muscles of his back and chest flexing under your touch. You found his mouth again, his hands cupping your face. You let your hands travel freely, tracing your fingertips over his back, down the backs of his biceps, around the crease at his elbow, up his arm and over to his chest. You added pressure, leaving small white lines on his skin. He let out the smallest gasp at the sensation, his eyes rolling back in his head. You pressed your body forward against his, feeling the bulge of his cock pressing your stomach through his trousers. The heat at the apex of your legs roared, making you squeeze your thighs together, moisture beginning to build there.

“Missed me too, did you?” 

The handsome smirk and devil-may-care glitter in his eyes took your breath in. If he only knew…

You let one of your hands snake its way down the front of his torso, your fingernails leaving a trail like a map over his abs. He shivered slightly, his smirk deepening as his eyes drank you in. More, more, more, his gaze said.

You pressed your palm against his hard cock, gripping it through his trousers. “Why don’t you take these off and find out,” you murmured back. Nikolai’s eyes went wild at the sound of your voice. You bit at the edge of your lip, relishing the feel of his member in your hand, the way he shuddered at your touch reflexively. You added pressure to your palm and began stroking the length of his shaft over the rough wool of his riding trousers. 

“Saints,” he muttered, stumbling backwards on shaky legs to lean against the wall. It had been a long time for both of you, it would seem. A coil began to grow deep and low in your gut as you watched his face go slack at the feel of your hand on his cock, lost in ecstasy for a moment. 

He snapped to quickly, coming out of his reverie with a look of purpose. He brushed your hand away from his cock, catching both wrists in his hands and turning you to swap places. His movements were strong but controlled, firm pressure but no pain. You let him lead you, and he stopped only when you were squarely against the wall. 

“You haven’t lost your touch,” he murmured, leaning in for a quick kiss as he danced a finger along your jawline. “But I’ve waited too long for you to skip my favorite part.” 

You were practically panting at his words, feeling loose and halfway drunk on the sight, sound, feel, taste of him. And he knew it. 

Goosepimples ran up your spine as you felt his hands slip under the straps of your nightgown, guiding them back and over your shoulders. The thin gown fell to the floor, pooling around your ankles like water. 

Rough, calloused palms traveled all over you: your arms, throat, breasts, down your sides and over to your backside, which he gave an appreciative squeeze. Then forward, around the swell of your hips, down the front of your thighs, before snaking inward. You stepped one leg outward, beckoning him higher. His right hand turned, palm facing upward, until he found his mark. 

You gasped when his hand touched your pussy, warm and wet with anticipation already. You didn’t miss the self-satisfied smile he wore when he felt your readiness. His fingers spread your flesh apart and he began to work, starting with large, languid circles. It was torturously divine - too slow to do anything but tease you. You let your head fall back against the wood paneled wall behind you, your leg bending at the knee with a foot braced on the wall as you let yourself fall open to him. You bucked your hips forward, grinding down against your hand. 

Reading your cues, his circles grew smaller and more focused, zeroing in on that sensitive bundle at the very center of you. His fingers found it effortlessly, dancing over it like he were plucking the strings on a lute. You gasped, the coil tightening as your body tensed. 

“That’s it, my girl,” he cooed, stepping close to you, his breath warm as it fanned over your exposed neck. “Let me have you.” He bore down on whatever skin he could reach with his mouth - kissing and sucking and gently biting - drawing heavy, sighing moans from your throat. His fingers kept dancing over your clit, his pressure crescendoing and then retreating like ocean waves. You felt your bent leg begin to tremble slightly. 

At that signal, Nikolai’s fingers plunged into you commandingly. You gasped, your eyes widening as your muscles squeezed around him momentarily. 

“My beautiful, beautiful girl.” Two fingers - his middle two - began to pump, firm but gentle. Already slick with your wetness. 

One of your hands traveled up to cup your exposed breast, your nipple hard as a marble. Nikolai watched your hand as you rubbed your palm gently over the nipple, your eyelids falling shut as the sensations of your body took over your senses. 

“Nikolai, please,” you whimpered, grinding your hips against the rhythm of his hands, desperate for more. 

“Beg me again,” he commanded, letting his forehead connect with yours. 

“Please,” you moaned out, your free hand grabbing the wrist working on your pussy and driving it into you with the force you were craving. “Gods, please!” 

Normally Nikolai would tell you to use your words, to tell me what you want. But after so long apart, the intricate push-pull teasing you two were so comfortable with gave way to raw need. He obliged your request, his hand pumping in and out, his two fingers stroking the spot inside you could never reach while his thumb continued its assault on your clit. 

Your body was alight with burgeoning lust, every cell fluttering with a glittering energy. You felt your climax approaching fast and hard. Your moans turned louder into cries, the hand that had been working your breast now gripping the wall for support. Your other hand came up to tangle in your hair as you felt your orgasm crest. You turned, dragging some of your hair across your face just before you fell apart on his hand. 

“Don’t cover your face,” he growled, his free hand catching your chin with his thumb and dragging you to face him. “I want to see you.” 

You felt the cord snap at his words. You cried out his name, your face uncovered for him to see. Your pussy pulsated around his fingers, your legs shaking in time with your orgasm as you leaned back against the wall. Wetness ran down the inside of your thighs and over his hand, your mind fracturing into a thousand pieces, all of them saturated with him. 

“That’s it, my girl. That’s perfect.” You vaguely registered the praises falling out of his lips as his hand pumped you up, through, and down the other side of your ecstasy. 

You were still shaking, your senses barely rekindled when you felt the loss of Nikolai’s hand, followed swiftly by the feel of his palms gripping you under your seat. He lifted you from the hips, cradling you against him as your hands snaked around his neck. He carried you back away from the wall, turning and laying you down on your bed. 

He hovered over you at the edge of the bed, rushing the trousers down over his ankles. His cock sprang free, full and eager. You reached for it, but Nikolai had other plans. 

He ignored your grasping hand, stepping forward and lining himself up with your entrance only long enough to register your acknowledgement before he buried himself in you. His hips smacked against yours as you cried out his name. The feel of him stretching you, your pussy still throbbing from his hand, sent your awareness scattering again. 

You felt Nikolai’s hands press down into the mattress next to your head, framing your face as he leaned over you. He hesitated, catching your gaze with his cock completely embedded in you. 

“Let me have you,” he told you. His hazel eyes were bottomless to you, his words felt like a drug. 

“You already do, Nikolai,” you replied. “Now, take it.”

He leapt at your command, his hips pulling away from you and then brutally slamming back into you. His cock dragged against you, reactivating that dwindling orgasm with a new fire. You let your legs lift up to twine around his rear, adding your own movement to match his. He was grunting, his brows furrowed in a mix of pleasure and concentration as the wet sounds of slapping skin filled the room, punctuated by your cries and his deeper, guttural grunts. 

You tried to lift your head to watch him slide in and out of you, but he found your neck, gently but firmly pushing your head back to the bed. His hand stayed there, wrapped around the base of your throat with a possessive, dominating pressure, almost enough to press the air from your lungs but never enough to hurt. 

“Fuck, I’m close. Y/n, I’m close, I’m gonna cum.” 

You gripped his backside with your hands, pulling him into you deeper and harder with the final few thrusts he gave you. As he threw his head back, a long and loud primal grunt spilling from his mouth, you felt your own body’s desire snap a second time. He gasped as he felt your pussy squeezing around his pulsating cock, his thrusts scattered and not as forceful, but drawing out the pleasure you’d both been denied for so long. You screamed out his name, not caring who heard or what they thought or even if the sounds that you made actually sounded anything like Nikolai at all. He knew, and you knew - that was all that mattered. You fell off the edge of reason, twisting and writhing until you were turned inside out on a cloud of pleasure. Then you floated, hanging there, his warmth and the nearness of his body the only thing you’d swore you’d ever need.

You both settled back into your bodies slowly, the sounds of two sets of panting breaths drawing you down from the sky you’d fallen into.

He finally slid out of you, leaving you feeling woefully empty. You whimpered softly at the loss of him. He collapsed down onto the mattress next to you, the hand he’d left at your throat gently turning your face to his. You washed in the sight of him, the soft sheen of sweat covering his handsome face, his lips swollen and parted, his cheeks flushed. His hazel eyes danced like stars as he smiled at you. You smiled back, one of your hands finding his hair and swirling patterns against his scalp. He moaned, his eyes falling closed for a few minutes as the two of you relaxed in the relative silence. You knew it was only to give your bodies enough time to recover before revisiting the night’s earlier activities, and the thought of it made your stomach twirl. 

When Nikolai Lantsov opened his eyes, that mischievous glint you loved so much was blazing. You knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“So you did miss me?”

You gave him a playful slap, laughing as he rolled you into him, squeezing you into a bearhug against his bare chest. He buried his head in your mussed hair, inhaling deeply. 

“Actually,” you finally replied when you weren’t breathless from giggling, “I might need you to show me again exactly what I’ve been missing, all this time.” 

Nikolai gave you a wicked smile. “Happily, my girl. Happily.”

And so you let him show you - again and again, and again some more…