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leftoverpages · 5 months ago

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Beneath Weirwood's Shade

Pairing 𓅪 Benjicot "Davos" Blackwood × Bracken!reader

Tags 𓅪 forbidden love, romance, angst

Notes: inspired by romeo and juliet, thinking about posting multiple fanfics a day to reduce some of the stock i have :o

Wordcount 𓅪 1.2k

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

The ancient trees of the Riverlands whispered secrets to those who cared to listen. Their leaves, drenched in the gold of a setting sun, sighed with the weight of countless generations. In this land of ancient enmities and whispered feuds, House Blackwood and House Bracken stood opposed, their enmity as deep-rooted as the forests that surrounded them.

Beneath the sprawling branches of a towering weirwood, where the heart tree's face wept red sap, Benjicot Blackwood waited. His dark eyes, pools of sorrow and longing, flickered towards the distance. His heart, though hardened by the years of familial hatred, beat with an unyielding fervor for you, the light amidst his shadows.

You, a Bracken, the sworn enemy, the forbidden fruit. A love like yours was bound to secrecy, hidden beneath the shroud of night and the veil of danger. The thought of you filled his every waking moment, and his dreams were haunted by your touch, your smile, the gentle cadence of your voice.

From the shadows, you emerged, cloaked in the twilight, a figure of ethereal beauty and tragic grace. The world seemed to hold its breath as you approached, each step a defiance against the legacy of hate that threatened to tear you both apart.

"Ben," you whispered, your voice a soft symphony that danced through the air. He turned, and in his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own soul—tortured, yet unwavering in its love.

"My love," he murmured, closing the distance between you. His hand found yours, and in that touch, a silent promise was exchanged. "Every moment away from you is an eternity of pain."

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you pressed your forehead against his, the world around you dissolving into the backdrop of your shared sorrow and joy. "We cannot keep meeting like this, Benjicot. The risk grows with each passing day."

His grip tightened, desperation seeping into his voice. "I would rather die a thousand deaths than live a single day without you. We are bound by more than blood and duty; our souls are entwined, and no force on earth can sever that bond."

"Then let us run away," you pleaded, your voice breaking. "To a place where Blackwood and Bracken are just names, where we can be free to love without fear."

Benjicot's heart ached with the weight of your words, the tantalizing dream of a life together pulling at his every resolve. But reality was a cruel mistress. "I fear there is no such place, my love. Our names, our histories, they follow us like shadows."

A shuddering breath escaped you, and you clung to him, seeking solace in his warmth. "Then let us cherish the moments we have, however fleeting. Let us defy the stars that conspire against us and carve our own fate, even if only for a night."

The weirwood watched over you, a silent sentinel to your stolen time. Beneath its ancient boughs, you and Benjicot found a sanctuary, a fragile haven in a world determined to tear you apart. You spoke in hushed tones, of dreams unfulfilled and love everlasting, your words a tapestry of hope and despair.

In the heart of the forest, time seemed to stand still. You and Benjicot lay on a blanket of fallen leaves, your hands intertwined, your hearts beating as one. The night sky above was a canopy of stars, each one a silent witness to your forbidden love.

"You remember the first time we met?" Benjicot's voice was a mere whisper, his fingers tracing the delicate lines of your hand.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "How could I forget? It was at the harvest festival. I saw you across the field, and for a moment, it felt like the world stopped."

He chuckled softly, the sound like a balm to your soul. "I remember thinking that you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. But when I found out you were a Bracken, my heart sank."

"And yet, here we are," you said, your voice tinged with wonder and sadness. "Despite everything, we found each other."

Benjicot turned to face you, his eyes filled with a fierce, unspoken promise. "No matter what happens, I will always find you. In this life and the next, we are meant to be together."

The hours slipped away, and dawn's light began to creep over the horizon. With a heavy heart, you knew your time together was drawing to a close. You stood, reluctant to break the fragile spell that had bound you both.

"Until we meet again," Benjicot whispered, pulling you into a final, lingering embrace. "Remember, my love, that you are my heart, my soul, my everything."

You held him close, memorizing the feel of his arms around you, the scent of his hair, the warmth of his breath against your skin. "And you, Ben, are my hope, my dream, my forever."

With one last, lingering kiss, you parted, each step away from each other a dagger to the heart. But even in the face of inevitable sorrow, you carried a piece of each other, a love that transcended the bounds of feuding houses and cruel fate.

In the days that followed, you returned to your separate lives, each day a painful reminder of the love you could not openly share. You exchanged secret letters, hidden within the folds of cloaks and beneath the roots of ancient trees, your words a lifeline that sustained you through the darkest of times.

But as the tensions between your houses escalated, the danger grew ever closer. Whispers of war and betrayal filled the air, and you knew that the time would come when you would have to make a choice—between duty and love, between loyalty to your family and the call of your heart.

One fateful night, the shadows deepened and the air grew heavy with foreboding. A message reached you, written in Benjicot's hand, its words a stark warning: "Meet me at the weirwood. Our time is running out."

Fear and desperation clutched at your heart as you made your way to the ancient tree, your every step a prayer for his safety. When you arrived, you found him waiting, his face pale and drawn, his eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored your own.

"My love," he said, his voice a broken whisper. "There is no time. Our families are on the brink of war. We must leave, now, before it is too late."

You nodded, your resolve hardening even as your heart ached. "Together, then. We will face whatever comes, as long as we are together."

With a final, desperate embrace, you turned and fled into the night, leaving behind the only world you had ever known. The forest closed in around you, its shadows a refuge and a promise.

As dawn broke over the Riverlands, the ancient weirwood stood silent, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. In its heartwood, the echoes of your love remained, a testament to the power of a love that dared to bloom amidst the thorns of hatred and the shadows of despair.

You and Benjicot, bound by love and fate, ventured into the unknown, your hearts beating as one. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger and peril, but as long as you were together, you knew you could face anything.

In the annals of history, the names Blackwood and Bracken would be forever linked by strife. Yet, in the hidden corners of the Riverlands, beneath the ancient weirwood tree, the whispers of your love would linger, a testament to the power of a love that defied the stars and dared to reach for eternity.

#angst #asoiaf #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood #davos blackwood #romance #this was originally a targaryen/hightower fic shh #changed the names cause i can’t get enough of him

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lovezbrownies · 22 days ago

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The Anchor (F!Yandere former? Bully X GN!Reader.)

Lauren's Masterlist - General Masterlist.

Synopsis: Lauren is older, you are older, and both of you are bound forever through your three children.

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2

Warnings: Lauren becomes her mother lol, Stay-at-home Parent Darling, kind of strict Lauren? She's soft though, some suggestive themes, Lauren pregnant again.

The years slipped by, each one layering itself over the last, like bricks in the sturdy home you and Lauren had built. Now at 28, both of you had settled into roles defined by routines and expectations—but under the surface, everything was charged by the current of Lauren's silent yet fervent obsession, one that had only deepened since your early days together. She was the formidable scientist following in her mother’s legacy, a woman of steely composure whose love for her family was as unyielding as it was quietly guarded. You, meanwhile, had become the anchor at home, managing the lively rhythms of four children who filled each day with a mix of chaos and joy.

Evenings often followed a predictable cadence, each step unwinding with clockwork precision. Tonight, as usual, the house was alive with activity: your two older children were chattering in the kitchen, eagerly detailing their day’s escapades, while the youngest toddled clumsily across the living room floor, your steady hand guiding them. Lauren sat at the dining table, her presence commanding without a word, her gaze focused intently on her tablet as she scanned through the day's research notes. She wasn’t one to indulge in the laughter or the noise, but her presence anchored the room, an unspoken force that even the children instinctively respected.

You knew she loved them—knew it in the careful, almost clinical way she would observe each of them, studying their expressions and behaviors with a mixture of pride and possessive protectiveness. She didn’t need to say it; her every gesture showed it. Yet, it was her watchful eyes on you, always, that spoke the loudest of her devotion. There was a hunger, an all-consuming intensity that filled the space between you like a secret language only you understood.

As you guided the youngest toward a toy pile, Lauren’s voice cut through the chatter, cool and steady.

“Enough with the games,” she instructed, not unkindly but with an unmistakable edge. “Time for bed. Now.”

The children’s laughter subsided at once, and in a hushed murmur, they collected their scattered toys and tidied up. Even the older ones, who sometimes attempted their small rebellions, knew not to challenge her tonight. They cast you quick, fleeting glances as if hoping you might ease the severity in her tone. You offered them an encouraging smile, shepherding them toward their rooms, even as Lauren’s gaze lingered on you.

When the house finally quieted and each child was tucked in, you turned back to find her standing in the hallway, her eyes fixed on you with an intensity that was both magnetic and unsettling. It was a look you had come to recognize—a blend of longing, obsession, and the fierce, possessive love she held for you alone. Her career, her meticulous research, her reputation as a leading scientist—all of it paled in comparison to the devotion she reserved for you. In her eyes, you were a prize worth every sacrifice, every careful calculation she’d made over the years to keep you bound to her.

“You’ve been busy,” she remarked, her voice a low murmur as she crossed the distance between you with measured steps.

You offered a soft smile, leaning back against the wall as she closed in, her hands finding their way to your hips, her fingers cool and deliberate against your skin. “Someone has to make sure the house doesn’t fall apart.”

She let out a quiet chuckle, a rare, almost imperceptible sound, though her eyes remained serious. “And you’ve been doing quite well. Too well, perhaps. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you enjoy it more than being with me.”

The accusation in her tone was subtle, veiled by the faintest trace of humor, but you knew better than to brush it off lightly. With Lauren, even the smallest hint of perceived neglect could provoke that possessive streak she worked so hard to contain. Over the years, you’d learned to navigate the delicate balance between appeasing her and maintaining some semblance of independence. Tonight, you knew exactly how to respond.

“Come on,” you whispered, slipping your arms around her neck and pulling her closer, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Her eyes softened, but only slightly, the hardness there melting just enough for you to see the vulnerable intensity she kept hidden from everyone else. Her hands slid up your waist, pressing firmly against your back as if to ensure you were real, here, tethered to her in a way no one could ever sever.

“You know I can’t stand it when you’re too wrapped up in them,” she murmured, her words laced with both frustration and longing. “I didn’t build this life just to watch you drift away.”

There it was, the fear beneath her composure, the possessive ache that seemed to drive her every action, her every unspoken promise to keep you as close as possible. It was a side of her that rarely showed itself so openly, a glimpse of the profound vulnerability that simmered beneath her cold exterior.

You cupped her face gently, your thumb grazing her cheek, a small gesture of reassurance. “I’m not drifting anywhere. You know that, right?”

For a moment, her expression softened completely, the barest hint of relief washing over her as she closed her eyes, resting her forehead against yours. “I know,” she replied, her voice almost a whisper. “But sometimes I think… you don’t realize just how much I need you. How much everything else depends on you being right here.”

There was a finality to her words, a quiet, resolute declaration of the depth of her obsession, one that had only grown more intense over the years. She pulled you closer, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, a reminder of the hold she had over you, the claim she’d staked that neither time nor distance could weaken.

The kiss deepened, her grip tightening as if she were afraid you might vanish into thin air, the weight of her obsession pressing down on you in the most intoxicating way. You could feel the years of her devotion, the unwavering focus she’d poured into building this life, this family—all for you. To her, you were more than a partner; you were her anchor, her constant, the only person she allowed herself to be vulnerable with, the one piece of her world she refused to let slip away.

When she finally pulled back, her gaze lingered on you, her hands tracing gentle patterns along your arms as if committing every inch of you to memory. “Come on,” she said quietly, leading you toward the bedroom with a possessive grip on your hand. “It’s been too long since I’ve had you to myself.”

In the bedroom, she shed the last of her stoic composure, her movements uncharacteristically tender yet fiercely possessive, her need for you evident in every touch, every whispered word. She held you close, her hands roaming over your skin with the kind of reverence that only someone as intense as Lauren could possess. It was as if she were reclaiming you, reminding you that no matter the years, no matter the demands of family life, you would always belong to her in a way no one else could.

The night passed in quiet murmurs and lingering touches, Lauren’s gaze never leaving yours, as if afraid that you might slip away if she let go even for a moment. When she finally drifted to sleep, her arm draped possessively over you, you lay beside her, watching the faint rise and fall of her breathing, the softened lines of her face in the moonlight.

It struck you then, as it did in quiet moments like these, just how deeply she loved you—loved you in a way that defied simple explanations, a love that bordered on obsession but never crossed the line into cruelty. She was a paradox of control and vulnerability, a woman who commanded respect and demanded loyalty yet found herself utterly and irrevocably devoted to you.

In the dim silence of the room, you pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, your fingers brushing over her hair. You were hers, undeniably, just as she was yours, and no amount of time or distance could change that.

The morning came too soon, the quiet hum of life picking up once more as the children woke, filling the house with their laughter and boundless energy. Lauren was already up, her face a mask of serene authority as she sipped her coffee, glancing occasionally at the tablet displaying her research notes. Her eyes found yours across the table, a subtle but unmistakable possessiveness simmering just beneath the surface—a silent reminder that, even amidst the chaos, you were hers.

You offered her a soft smile, a silent promise that, no matter what, you weren’t going anywhere. And in that unspoken vow, you found a peace that only she could bring, an understanding that in this life, you belonged to each other, bound by love and a shared obsession that would endure forever.

The morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow across the room. The children were already immersed in their breakfast, the older two animatedly chattering about their plans for the day, while the younger ones focused on their plates, occasionally glancing up at you with sleepy, contented smiles. Lauren’s gaze never wandered far from you, a quiet, all-seeing presence even as she balanced her coffee in one hand and scrolled through her research notes with the other.

It wasn’t uncommon for her to mix family time with work; in fact, it was her habit, something she managed with the same unflinching focus she applied to everything else in her life. She never seemed to slow down, her mind always moving, always calculating. But when she looked at you now, a flicker of softness crossed her face, gone in an instant but unmistakable.

After breakfast, you busied yourself with the usual routines—packing the kids' lunches, gathering school bags, and shooing the older two out the door. As you helped the youngest into their coat, Lauren’s voice drifted over from the hallway, where she’d slipped into her shoes and coat, preparing to leave for the lab.

“I’ll be home late tonight,” she announced, her tone more a statement than a warning, though her eyes fixed on you with an intensity that held unspoken meaning. “But don’t stay up for me.”

You knew what that meant: another late night buried in work, another evening where the children would fall asleep without seeing her, their eager questions about her day left unanswered. Despite her authoritative demeanor, she rarely allowed her absence to sting; she would always find ways to make up for it later with a quiet, observant gesture that showed she’d been watching all along. Yet, there was always that subtle ache, a reminder of the boundaries she held even with those closest to her.

“Got it,” you replied with a reassuring smile, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead as you gathered the last of the bags. “But I’ll keep the tea warm, just in case you change your mind.”

A flicker of amusement passed over her face, and for a moment, you saw the depth of her affection hidden beneath that inscrutable gaze. She stepped closer, her hand finding yours in a rare, public gesture of intimacy that made your pulse quicken. Her grip was firm, almost possessive, and she leaned in, her voice low and meant only for you.

“Good,” she murmured, her thumb grazing your knuckles, sending a chill up your spine. “I don’t want you to forget that you’re mine—even on the busiest days.”

Her words lingered in the air, a soft promise and a reminder of the invisible tether that bound you to her, a connection that time, family, and career had only strengthened. There was no need to reply; she understood your silence as much as your words, a testament to the unspoken language you had shared since the beginning.

With a final squeeze, she released your hand, turning toward the door with her usual brisk pace, her coat swaying with each step. As she left, you couldn’t shake the feeling of her gaze still on you, the invisible mark of her presence that seemed to linger long after she’d gone. It was a mark you wore willingly, even proudly, knowing that to her, you were more than just a partner; you were her anchor, her obsession, the one constant in a world she controlled with clinical precision.

The day passed in a gentle blur. Between errands, managing the household, and tending to the children, you found yourself in the comfortable rhythm of daily life, each task a quiet reminder of the home you and Lauren had built together. Yet, by evening, a soft loneliness settled over you, a familiar ache that came whenever she was away for too long.

You gathered the children for dinner, their laughter and chatter filling the kitchen as they shared stories about their day. They each had bits of her in them—the sharp intelligence, the quiet resilience, and, for better or worse, that keen observance that often left you caught off guard. As the dishes were cleared, their bedtime routines completed, the house fell into a rare, quiet stillness, a stillness you knew would stretch until Lauren’s return.

As midnight approached, you sat curled on the living room couch, a steaming cup of tea in your hands, waiting despite her instructions not to. A distant sense of anticipation filled you, a quiet, expectant energy that grew stronger with each passing hour. You had long since grown accustomed to her late returns, the scent of her coat, the brisk way she would recount her day before collapsing beside you. Yet tonight, something felt different, a subtle shift in the atmosphere, as if even the silence was holding its breath.

It was well past midnight when the door finally creaked open, and there she was, her silhouette framed against the darkened hallway. Her posture was as composed as always, though her face bore the faint exhaustion of a long day’s work. She set her bag down with a quiet grace, her gaze finding you immediately, her eyes narrowing slightly as she noted the tea waiting on the table.

“You didn’t listen,” she said softly, a glint of something unreadable in her expression as she stepped closer. “I told you not to wait up.”

You shrugged, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you held out the cup. “Guess I couldn’t help myself.”

A faint smile graced her lips, a softness breaking through the mask she wore so well. She took the cup from your hands, her fingers grazing yours, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to matter. She sank onto the couch beside you, sipping the tea in thoughtful silence, her gaze far away yet rooted in the here and now, tethered to you.

There was a peace in these quiet moments, a stillness that belonged to the two of you alone. She was still the same Lauren, with her walls and her calculating gaze, yet here, with you, she allowed herself to relax, to let her guard down in a way that felt both sacred and fragile.

Finally, she set the cup down, her gaze returning to you with a fierce, possessive warmth that sent a familiar shiver down your spine. “I can’t stand being away for so long,” she admitted, her voice low, almost vulnerable. “You keep this place together, the children… everything. I don’t say it enough, but—” She paused, her hand reaching for yours, her grip firm and unyielding. “You’re everything to me. You know that, don’t you?”

Her words settled over you like a vow, a promise steeped in the depth of her obsession, a devotion that went beyond words, beyond reason. You nodded, your thumb brushing over her hand as you met her gaze, a silent affirmation of the bond you shared, a bond that neither time nor distance could weaken.

In that quiet exchange, you felt the full weight of her love, the possessive strength of her obsession, and the unbreakable connection that held you both. And as she leaned into you, resting her head against your shoulder, you knew that, whatever the future held, you were hers, irrevocably and completely, bound by a love that was as fierce as it was enduring.

The first hints of dawn crept through the curtains, bathing the bedroom in a soft, rosy light. Lauren was already up, sitting quietly at the edge of the bed, her gaze distant, a faint frown etched into her brow. You lay nestled beneath the covers, still half-asleep, only vaguely aware of her unusual stillness beside you.

She didn’t often rise before her alarm—it was more like her to snatch every last second of rest she could, guarding her energy for the long day ahead. But this morning was different. She’d felt it all night: a restless, inexplicable ache that tugged at her, lingering even in her sleep, only intensifying as the morning approached. It wasn’t the familiar weariness of her late nights, nor was it her characteristic resolve kicking in at the start of another day. This was something else.

She reached for her phone, an uneasy suspicion forming in her mind as she scrolled, her fingers moving with a methodical precision, pulling up dates, counting backwards, calculating in that sharp, clinical way of hers. Her gaze grew sharper as realization dawned, and suddenly the quiet uncertainty gave way to something far more profound—a fierce, heady excitement tempered by her usual resolve.

A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across her lips.

As if sensing the shift, you stirred, blinking groggily as you propped yourself up on an elbow, glancing at her with a sleepily questioning look. “Everything alright?”

She looked at you, her expression softer than you’d ever seen, her eyes reflecting a possessiveness laced with undeniable joy. For a moment, she simply took you in, as though committing every detail of this moment to memory, from the warmth of the morning light across your face to the way your eyes searched hers, filled with a trust that she held as dearly as life itself.

Finally, she leaned over, brushing her fingers gently along your cheek, a rare tenderness in her touch. Her words were a whisper, yet they held a quiet thrill, one she could barely contain.

“I’m pregnant,” she murmured, as if saying it aloud would break the fragile beauty of the revelation. “We’re going to have another child.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, your drowsiness slipping away instantly as you absorbed the weight of her words. A warmth flooded your heart, joy mingling with a sense of awe as you reached for her hand, squeezing it with a quiet wonder.

Her gaze never left you, her smile growing as she took in the way your expression shifted, your own delight mirroring hers. The intensity of her stare was unmistakable, filled with the same possessive devotion she had for everything she held dear. And now, with this new life stirring within her, you knew that her fierce love would only deepen, her protective obsession tightening even more around the family you had built together.

Lauren’s hand remained firmly in yours as the two of you sat in that silent, sacred moment, the unspoken promise between you rekindled once again. You were hers, and she was yours—now and always, bound by a love that would shape not only your lives, but the lives of your children, each one carrying a part of that fierce, unbreakable connection you shared.

The new day was just beginning, filled with possibilities, challenges, and the quiet certainty that whatever came next, you would face it together—stronger, and more bound together than ever before.

#oc x reader #gn reader #yandere oc x reader #x reader #yandere x darling #yandere oc #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #gender neutral #yandere female #female yandere #female yandere x reader

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doumadono · 1 year ago

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Warnings: smut w/o plot, p in v, cunningulus, rather soft Dabi Synopsis: Dabi was fervently yearning to partake in another round of euphoria with you Requested by: anonymous

MASTERLIST

A solitary sunbeam bestowed its gentle radiance upon the finely sculpted countenance of Dabi. He contorted his visage, narrowing his eyes and gradually blinking a few times, stirred from slumber by the luminous glow. With a sigh escaping his lips, he endeavored to shield himself from the solar rays by placing an arm over his face. However, the hour had long surpassed dawn's arrival, rendering him unable to succumb to sleep once more. Instead, he found solace in the rhythmic cadence of your tranquil breaths.

Dabi's countenance slowly adorned itself with a smile as he reminisced upon the passionate intimacy you both shared the previous night. It had been a Friday evening, and the LOV team had ventured to partake in libations at the bar in their mansion. They all needed some distractions after yet another difficult week.

Observing the gracefulness with which you engaged in mirthful conversation with Toga at the booth, and subsequently coaxing Twice onto the dance floor with his endearingly awkward fist pumps and uncertain dance moves, Dabi found himself utterly captivated by your every gesture. How fortuitous was he to have encountered a woman of such beguiling charm, genuine sweetness, and innate ability to put anyone at ease? Since you joined the League, Dabi was unable to divert his gaze or restrain his touch from you. Your irresistible allure captivated him, and he unexpectedly developed a deep affection for both your radiant persona and your lively demeanor.

The comfort of being nestled in bed with you filled Dabi's heart with contentment.

That profound affection within him was kindled once you both departed from the bustling bar, and as soon as you both crossed the threshold of Dabi's room, he fervently disrobed your undergarments, firmly grasped your already moistened pussy, and passionately claimed your lips as his own.

In the annals of time, the subsequent events unfolded as an indelible legacy.

Presently, he beheld your unadorned physique, ensconced in velvety coverings. The satin texture of your exposed shoulder allured him, accompanied by the emergence of a hickey and faint contusions adorning your neck and shoulders. He surmised that additional bruises might trace their mark upon your hips, a testament to the fervor with which he engaged you the previous night.

Regret tinged his expression; he acknowledged that he had been overly rough in his actions. To ameliorate the situation, Dabi leaned closer, his form enmeshing with yours, commencing a tender array of butterfly kisses and delicate caresses upon the bruised regions.

"Mmm...?" You vocalized, inquisitive, as Dabi's gentle ministrations roused you from the depths of slumber, drawing you into wakefulness.

"Good morning, babe," he murmured, his lips still bestowing soft affection upon your shoulder.

"Morning," you replied, your voice laden with drowsiness. "What time is it?" you queried, stifling a yawn.

"It is 7:00 AM," Dabi responded.

"Ah, let us indulge in even more repose, then. This is a rare luxury," you remarked, rolling over to face him. Both of you typically arose at 8:00 AM on weekdays for work, making this leisurely awakening a true indulgence.

"Indeed, Y/N," Dabi chuckled, his countenance now tinged with a touch of concern. "I trust I did not exert excessive force upon you during our encounter last night?"

"Why do you harbor such thoughts?" You responded, elevating yourself onto one elbow.

"Well..." Dabi's fingertips grazed gently across your contusions.

You tilted your head to glimpse downward, observing the interplay of light purple and green splotches adorning your skin. "Ah, mere bruises. They shall mend," you offered reassuringly. "Moreover, last night's tryst happened to be one of the most ardently passionate experiences we have shared thus far, handsome!"

"Truly?" Dabi smirked, arching an eyebrow. "Nevertheless, I find myself remorseful. Allow me to make amends." He grinned, tenderly caressing your chin before lifting it to meet his own in a soft, tender kiss.

Dabi's kisses persisted, gently tracing his tongue across your lower lip. His lips moved with such deliberation and affection that you found yourself surrendering to the sensations, becoming one with his touch. Gradually, his tongue found its way into your mouth, deepening the kiss until soft moans escaped your lips.

His ardor only intensified, and he encircled his strong arms around your back, causing you to recline atop him, legs entwined, your bosom pressed firmly against his chest, as your lips continued their entrancing dance that seemed boundless in time.

Eventually, the need for air necessitated a brief respite. "Dabi!" You gasped, gently slapping his shoulder. "Let a girl breathe at some point!"

Dabi's brows ascended in astonishment, eliciting a profound chuckle from him. You sensed the reverberation of his mirth coursing through his frame beneath you, while you found yourself captivated by the endearing laughter lines encircling his eyes, which creased charmingly when he smiled.

"Very well, then. I shall bestow my affections elsewhere," he declared with a grin. Gently, Dabi guided your form to recline upon the bed, ensuring your head is cradled amidst a cluster of pillows. With purposeful tenderness, he commenced a journey of kisses, trailing along your neck and gliding down your collarbones until reaching your bosom.

"Mmm... You're truly indulging me today, huh?" You murmured with delight.

Dabi merely smiled, his sizable and adept hands tenderly exploring your sensitive nipples, skillfully tugging and pinching the aroused buds while massaging your flesh.

Such exquisite sensations caused your back to arch involuntarily, and your breath quickened, escaping in rapid, gasping exhalations. At the sound of your voice, Dabi felt his arousal intensify. He reveled in the symphony of your passionate cries, knowing that he was the catalyst for your pleasure, an aspect that instantly aroused him.

Your knees glided upward, constricting around Dabi's torso, drawing him intimately nearer as he persistently caressed your chest, delicately tracing along the divide of your cleavage and teasing your nipples.

"Greedy, are we?" Dabi chuckled, his mouth engulfed between your supple mounds.

Your response was an even louder moan of delight. Prior to meeting Dabi, you had never encountered such arousal from mere fondling. Now, a gentle touch from him alone could leave you dripping with desire.

Being acutely aware of his profound effect on you, Dabi commenced a deliberate descent along your body, until his warm breath tantalized your yearning core.

You bit your lip in anticipation. "Darling, are you — Ah!"

His tongue skillfully traced up your folds, stifling your question with a gratifying slurp. Dabi moved his tongue adeptly, traversing in and out of your wetness, confidently navigating your most sensitive areas to elicit the utmost pleasure. He lapped over your pussy, eagerly savoring every drop of your juices.

Your arousal manifested audibly, saturating the confines of the bedroom.

"Babe, do you hear this? You're such a lascivious enchantress," Dabi playfully taunted, now inserting two fingers into your moist entrance, strategically curling them to stimulate your sweet spot. He knew precisely how to make your body quiver with delight.

As if prompted by an invisible conductor, the moment he gained entry, an ecstatic exclamation escaped your lips, "Oh my, Dabi!" Your knees instinctively encircled his wrist, intensifying the rhythm of his finger's intimate dance within you. With each fervent thrust, your body responded, the pulsating sensations reverberating throughout your being. Streams of moisture cascaded onto the sheets, coating them in a passionate display, while his skillful hands expertly attended to your arousal, one tantalizingly exploring depths, the other delicately stimulating your most sensitive spot.

"Would you cum for me, little slut?" Dabi commanded, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, and you complied. Succumbing to the pleasure, you moaned his name repeatedly as the orgasm washed over you.

With your body still vibrating from the climax, Dabi positioned himself at your wet entrance and effortlessly slid his already painfully erect member inside. He let out a guttural groan, throwing his head back; your tightness gripping him so intensely that he could barely contain the pleasure coursing through him.

"Damn, Dabi, it feels too good! You're stretching me so wonderfully!" You exclaimed, clenching the sheets tightly in your fists.

"That's it, my little slut, you're so wet for me, it's incredible." Dabi uttered, slowly thrusting his dick in and out of you. He adored the sensation of your body against his, as if you were custom-made solely for his gratification.

"Come here, baby," you coaxed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you.

He continued the rhythm of his thrusts, expertly grinding his pelvis against your sensitive clit, prompting you to wrap your legs around his lower back.

Your lips lavished every contour of his exquisite countenance, caressing him and intertwining your fingers through his luscious black locks. With each tender caress, you endeavored to manifest the profoundness of your affection for him.

"Dabi?" You whispered, your lips grazing the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, little minx?" He gasped, his composure already faltering under the intoxicating pleasure emanating from your intimate connection. His biceps flexed as he supported himself above you, hips undulating with fervor as he relentlessly drove himself into you.

"I love you, Dabi. You're my everything... Oh, fuck! That's it, babe!"

Dabi hesitated, gradually slowing his pace to catch his breath. He gazed deeply into your eyes, revealing the intensity of his adoration for you. He tenderly placed a hand on your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, cherishing the intimacy of that moment. "Y/N, you're too sweet for me," he exhaled. "I love you too." He confessed softly, sealing his heartfelt declaration with another gentle kiss upon your eager lips. With those words, Dabi grunted, pressing on against you, resuming his powerful thrusts as you gasped in surprise, surrendering to the ever-increasing intensity of his ardor, each impact resounding throughout your bodies.

"Oh! Harder, harder!" You encouraged, and your moans escalated in volume. That only served to embolden Dabi further, as he firmly grasped your sides, guiding you down onto his throbbing member while thrusting his hips upward with each fervent motion.

"Babe, I'm about to..." Dabi cried out, relinquishing his usual solemn composure to the euphoria of climax, releasing his thick, warm semen into your heated core.

"Yes!" You exclaimed, the intensity of your own orgasm surging once more.

With a deep groan, Dabi collapsed upon you, his member still intimately connected to your yearning entrance.

"Oof!" You sighed playfully, emitting a giggle. Dabi, you're too heavy for me! Please, get off!" You laughed, exerting pressure against his robust shoulders.

"No!" He teased, revealing his mischievous side. You adored those moments when he broke free from his composed, stoic persona and displayed his juvenile, boyish charm exclusively for you.

Beneath all that gravity lay an insatiable, delectable beast of a man, who was well aware of the art of bringing you to ecstasy while teasingly mocking you throughout. Oh, how deeply you adored this man.

After writhing in pleasure for a little while longer, Dabi eventually relented and withdrew from your slick, wet cunt.

You theatrically gasped, taking in deep breaths now that his weight no longer overwhelmed you, and he responded with an eye roll and a laugh.

"What time is it now?" You inquired, your chest rising and falling, a light glisten of perspiration on your forehead.

Dabi glanced at you. "I don't care. I'm not leaving the bed today."

Turning to your side, you grinned at him. "Shall we go for another round then?"

Tags: @dabislittlemouse @grossograsso @misafiryanki @indignant-alpaca

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