#nothing special put in but wanted to flesh it out

[fanaroff]

“I’m serious! B just casually has more than a few handfuls of these shards!” Nightwing exclaimed, leading Red Robin through the Watchtower halls. In one hand, he holds aloft a shard of kryptonite, uncaring of any chances he could possibly run into Superman. The hall they are in is currently closest to the kitchens and provides a lovely view of space via the huge (indestructible) glass windows.

“Contingency plan this, contingency plan that!” Nightwing continues. “We have to expect that he has one for everyone and be happy about it!”

“Be happy about what?” A voice came from their left, startling Nightwing so hard he dropped the shard of kryptonite. Red Robin flinched as well but was quickly more focused on cackling at how high his brother jumped.

A sheepish figure popped into view. It was Phantom, the ghostly teen hero who had become a member of the Justice League a few months before. He floated about a foot off the ground and his green eyes looked apologetic, a gloved hand rubbing the back of his neck.

Nightwing could only wheeze out, “Jesus, Phantom!” He was doubled over for a moment before straightening. “I swear you’re going to give someone a heart attack!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Phantom looked half panicked and half amused. “I was exploring and kind of forgot I was invisible for a moment.”

Phantom, at this point, was notorious for his space walks. He always came back from them brighter, happier. It made it easier to ignore that he was the ghost of a dead teenage hero.

“You’re fine, you’re fine! You just have to pay me back by spooking Flash.” Nightwing waves him off and took an exaggerated breath before letting it out. “Anyways, after that brief brush with death, what’d you ask Phantom?”

“I asked what you had to be happy about?” The teen said it like it was a question.

“Oh! Yeah! B’s contingency plans- ah fuck.”

“What?” Red Robin piped up.

“I dropped the shard, it had to have rolled nearby.” This was a given, but Nightwing cut off any explanations he had for Phantom in favor of looking for the shard of kryptonite.

“What are you looking for?” Phantom asked, floating over one of Nightwing’s shoulders.

“Shard of kryptonite,” Red Robin answered, eyes on the floor. “Your color green, looks like a rock.”

Phantom gave a messy salute and the search was on. It didn’t take too long, the shard was thin and barely the length of a pinky finger but noticeably shiny.

“Found it!” Called out Phantom who picked it up, giving it a curious once over. “You’re right, it is definitely a rock. But it looks more… like… rock…”

Nightwing and Red Robin’s attention were grabbed as Phantom’s voice concerningly trailed off. The ghost was frozen in place, staring at the shard.

“Phantom?” Nightwing called out. No answer, no movement.

Red Robin gave a silent curse. “What if kryptonite affects ghosts? That hasn’t been tested yet!”

Slowly, the two approached.

“Hey Phantom, you okay buddy?” Nightwing reached out a hand to grab the ghost’s shoulder.

Before he could, Phantom gave a full body shiver and turned his head to the two. Startlingly, his pupils were blown wide. Very wide, almost covering the sclera and the glow coming off of them was almost blinding.

The ghost blinked, took an unneeded breath and crowed, “ROCK CANDY!”

Before the two bird could react, Phantom chomped down on the shard with sharper than normal teeth and loudly crunched away at it in with two short bites. A single thought of “Uh oh” was all Nightwing and Red Robin could do as the ghost’s glow brightened, pupils even more wide to the point of uncanny valley, and shrieked a laughed before tearing off down the hallway.

The two were too stupefied to react at first. Then came a crash, a yell of “Give me back my fuckin’ coat you bloody ghost wanker!” and Phantom came back into temporary view before skidding to a stop mid-air to look out at space from the window. In another moment, the ghost was outside of the Watchtower doing an amazing physical rendition of a cat high off of catnip, floating slowly into the distance.

Nightwing and Red Robin exchanged a look before sprinting down the hallway.

High on Kryptonite

"We kind of have a problem.." Nightwing exclaimed as he entered the watchtower's meeting room.

"What kind of problem?" Green lantern asked.

"Danny's outside the watchtower." Nightwing said.

"Okaaay? he already does that everytime he's here, what's new." The speedy hero asked, as he relaxed back on his seat.

"Yes, But it's different this time, I- um"

"He's high on kryptonite" Red robin interjected.

"What." Superman spluttered out

"I said, what i said."

Meanwhile outside of the watchtower:

(Quick drawing of danny)

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: yandere, kidnapping, captive reader, noncon, somnophilia

follow up to this part one

gn reader

Yeah, he kidnaps you within the same day…

He knows it isn’t inherently right, but he can justify it! You see, if anyone else were to find out your technique, you’d be in a lot of trouble—and by trouble, he means certain death or worse.

You’re a paradox. If he’d reported his find to the elders, they’d surely have sent assassins, given how terrified they are of the unknown—and you’re worse than an unknown—you’re a threat to jujutsu’s very foundation. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d make weapons out of your body until nothing was left of you—just think about it—a bullet made from your flesh would have the instant power to disintegrate a curse on the spot. Or worse, they’d keep you alive and locked up somewhere, feeding you only to drain you of a dozen blood bags per day—like a farm.

Yes, this was better for you—with no one knowing of your existence except him. He’s the only one who can keep you safe.

Of course, you think he’s crazy. And he doesn’t blame you. You were just abducted by a stranger in the streets who not only insists that you’re an anomaly but wears a blindfold and claims to be a wizard out to protect you from people who would harvest your blood. Yeah, he wouldn’t believe him either.

The whole situation is messy, but at least you’re alive.

He gives you your own room. Of course, he’s not out to make you uncomfortable. You have your own room, bed, and bathroom, which is where you spend most of your time.

He can’t blame you for that, either. He won’t force you to spend time with him even though he wants to. But he’s not entirely innocent either—watching you through the cameras in the ceiling. It’s funny, but even on tape, you’re crystal clear. It’s calming to watch. Everything else makes his eyes hurt, hence the blindfold—but even that is but a dull salve. You’re the cure.

You warm up to him after a month or so. You come out of your room. He can tell you’re looking for weak spots to escape from, but you won’t find any. He’s gotten better at reading you now—having busied himself learning the language of your body looking at you without your knowledge. He only feels slightly guilty about it.

He can’t stop thinking about touching you, though. It really doesn’t have to be much—he’s never really been much of a playboy, despite people’s assumptions. Women and men have never been all that appealing when what he sees is everything they’re trying to hide. Though he has tried it a few times, he usually just takes care of it on his own if he needs to.

He's needed to a lot in the past weeks. But he promises himself he won’t force you into anything. That wouldn’t be fair.

You start talking to him another month later—actual conversations aside from the usual swearing or claims to let you go. No, you begin asking questions about the jujutsu world. He can’t tell if it’s because you’re curious or seeking information that might aid in your escape or if it’s simply a ploy to lower his guard, but it’s clear you still think he’s delusional. Either way, he doesn’t mind humoring you. He even tries demonstrating limitless for you, holding different objects as well as himself midair—but you seem convinced he’s just some talented crook. You’ve seen more compelling magic acts before, you say. He laughs.

He'd show you something more convincing, but you can’t see cursed spirits even with special glasses as the curse imbued into the lenses disrupts the moment you put them on, so to you, it’s the same as wearing fakes. In a way, curses don’t exist in your world. He’s tested it out a few times—simple flyheads, just to see what happens, and wow… It’s actually kind of scary how they just crumble upon contact with you—no residuals or anything left to prove that they were ever even there.

The only way to prove it to you would be to let someone else get mangled in front of you. Of course, it would only look like a body getting warped beyond recognition by the air—but he’s sure at that point, you’d no longer be able to assign normal logic to it. Not that he’s going to do any of that. He doesn’t really need you to believe him after all. It wouldn’t change anything. In fact, he prefers you don’t know. The jujutsu world is an ugly one—he doesn’t mind sheltering you from it.

Another four months in, and you’ve gotten comfortable. Well, it’s been half a year, so it’s taken its time, but still, he’s happy to have gotten there. You’re at the point where you ask him for things unrestricted—hobby stuff like books and paints and groceries. 

You’d taken to baking and cooking rather early on, which was great as his kitchen was practically in pristine and unused condition. He can’t blame you for growing tired of his unhealthy food habits—microwave dinners for the most part, other times leftovers he brings home from restaurants, otherwise just candy and pastries. You’d refused to make him anything in the start, but you’d soon caved when you realized he could just as simply refuse to bring you the ingredients. You’re now the designated cook of the house. It’s cute, like having his own little housewife.

Your guard has also dropped. You no longer flinch away when he’s close. Not that he allows himself to touch you improperly—just a little—a few accidental rubs here and then, brushing along you in passing, blaming it on the blindfold even when he can hear your feet pad along the floors in the utter silent emptiness of his house. And other innocent things... laying his hand on your head when he reaches for a glass in the cupboard above you, telling you he wouldn’t want you to hit yourself—brushing your back with his chest and his crotch on your rear. It can’t hurt—it only barely touches and just for a few seconds.

It makes him feel like a filthy drug addict, though. Desperate for a fix, then only wanting more once it’s gone…

He’s been coming to your room to watch you sleep almost every night. You don’t know. You’d be more wary of him if you did. But no, you’re under the impression he’s just some poor, disillusioned man who’s otherwise harmless. You don’t know, and he aims to keep it that way.

It’s for your sake. Just the same as you don’t know curses exist, you needn’t know of the cursed thoughts simmering within his head either. So, he does it for you. To spare you.

That’s what he tells himself when watching you obliviously drink the crushed pills he’s been feeding you for the last many months.

He’d reached his breaking point much sooner than he thought—just after he swore against it, actually. Limiting himself only seemed to make him ever more in need of you. But it was to be expected—he’s never been too good at abiding by rules. He’s always felt above them—even those he sets upon himself.

He’s happy you’ve warmed up to him when you’re awake now, too, utterly unaware you’ve been more than accommodating in your sleep.

Of course, he feels bad! But what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

Besides... give or take a few more months, and you’re bound to invite him into your bed at some point. It’s only natural—humans require contact and will accept what’s available to them. He’s only early in taking what he knows you’d give him sooner or later anyway.

You have no way of knowing how long you sleep, no windows, no watch—no idea you sleep more than half a day every night—half of that time spent with him.

He’d only spooned you at first—his bare hands laid in reverence against your soft skin, reveling in your heat while cuddling into you. It had been nice, but ultimately not enough. He’d resorted to undressing after a while, lying there naked—but still, doing nothing but holding you—skin-to-skin. That, as well, had only been enough for a while—now keeping a hand on you while tugging himself in the other. It seems that every indulgence he allows himself only serves to make the need within grow deeper. You rivet his entire body ablaze like nothing else… and he has this undying feeling pounding in his chest and throughout his body, down to his throbbing dick, that being inside you is going to feel like nothing he's ever felt before.

And you're so cute down there—pretty on his fingers—welcoming. Kissing there makes his candy addiction go to waste. He’s convinced burying his face between your thighs is where he belongs. Right there, smothered in the warmth with your taste flooding his mouth. He could die happy. 

And fuck if it doesn’t look like you need his cock inside you once he pulls away—spit-slicked, swollen, and fluttering for him—crying to be filled and fucked. 

The little sounds you make as he enters you are the sweetest sounds he’s heard in his life—pretty little mews and sleepy moans as he fills you out until you’re neatly settled around his base and fuck—he’s already cumming, melting within the surrounding cloudy warmth. 

It doesn’t stop him from remaining hard. 

Dropping his weight atop of you, he smothers you like a duvet—bodies pressed perfectly against each other as he kisses every and any part of you he can reach, snapping his hips in short thrusts deep within—sucking your lip while sinking his fingers into the plume of your haunches, lapping up the spit from within your mouth like a well granting all his wishes.

He cleans you up after—wipes you down, and frets over the bruises left on you, hoping you won’t read too much into how sore you are. Leaving the crimescene just as it had been before, then kisses you good night.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

if the military wanted you to have a wife, they'd issue you one. Soap's heard that saying once or twice.

and here you are. claiming to be his... issuance.

you tilt your head. "you don't remember signing up for the program?"

no. no, he doesn't. his eyes dart down to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes. he'd remember that. more to the point, he'd remember whatever he did to deserve this. he looks you up and down again, disbelief and desire flashing across his face, and not in equal measure.

you’re like if someone wrung the starry slurry of thoughts constituting what makes a perfect woman directly from his brain matter, let it ferment and clarify like honey wine, put marriage papers in her hand, and dressed her in a… in a fucking… are those stockings stretching up under your skirt?

hell’s bells. you’re one part girl next door, one part muse—the one his hand can never quite shape on the page to match what’s in his head—and several shades of his favorite porn star. an old-fashioned pin-up doll in the flesh.

"you're not John MacTavish, then," you say, peering down at the papers in your hand with a small frown. "so sorry to bother you—"

“no, hold on.” he takes a step closer. “i’m him, aye. but the program...” the application questionnaire. filling it out was nothing more than a drunken bet with Gaz, but yes, he dimly remembers it. doesn't recall turning it in, but maybe he was drunker than he thought. “it's real?"

“completely real. i was selected for you based on the preferences you specified,” you tell him. you shift the clipboard into your other arm, pleasant smile turning into a frown. "but i couldn't possibly ask you to sign a marriage certificate sponsored by a program you don't even remember applying for."

oh, that is rich. you don’t seem to see the humor here. it’s absurd. have you not seen yourself? he'd be daft to pass on someone as bonnie as you.

not to mention you seem more than a little disappointed at the idea of being turned down. that fuels his ego even more.

 "you're sayin' you're a part of that military partnership program, aye? and you were handpicked as my spouse based on a few questions?"

you helpfully produce a copy of his responses in pink triplicate. sure enough, he recognizes his own drunken scrawl.

none of the questions have anything to do his preferences looks-wise. career aspirations, communication preferences, hobbies, his ideal saturday night. his sleeping habits. this is a psychological profile. CIA shite, as Gaz would say.

he doubts his drunken self read more than a few lines of this paperwork while he was constructing his dream girl in the survey blanks.

as he studies the page a little too closely, your small frown turns into a frustrated scowl. "john? um, i mean."

it instantly pulls his eyes back to your lips.

you twirl a strand of hair around your finger. "it’s nice to meet you,” you say in a tone that makes it clear what you’re really saying is ‘hey, stud, i'm looking forward to the honeymoon.’

that’s your attempt, at least. but Soap sees more than you mean to show. the way you play that card--the way you twirl your damn hair--is the clumsiest, most blatant attempt to flirt. somehow, that's what catches him off-guard the most. It makes his heart squeeze. god, are you nervous? you?

he runs over the back of his teeth in the split second before his signature lazy smirk slides back across his face. "happy you got paired up with a bloke like me?"

he hands the paperwork back to you. you take it back with great relief and nestle it securely into the crook of your elbow. you’re certain he didn’t sign every single blank he was supposed to, but he won’t remember that. you’ll check the signature lines later and forge his handwriting to finish it.

you smile prettily at him. then you make it a little more coy. you should be bashful--he's handsome. "i'm lucky. you're special forces. i’m a nobody, really. if you want, you could try filing for a spouse upgrade. if you want a really good fiancée..."

“fiancée." Soap rolls the word around his tongue. "is that what i should call you?”

"well. you saw my name on the paperwork," you point out. you know very well he didn't.

before he can ask any more questions, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek and pull away, walking down the hall with documents in tow. his gaze is heavy on your back.

the documents in your arm are real enough. Soap really did complete that questionnaire, just like how he remembers. getting the application turned in is what required a little creative effort.

but as long as nobody looks too closely at the military ID photocopied in the application file, they won't notice that the mostly-obscured face of the soldier who turned the application in doesn't look much like Soap at all.

...

more Soap / masterlist

[bwabys-scenarios]

Making you a mother

Laois x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: this is a request from AO3!! Short but sweet ^^

warnings: big breeding kink, reader gets pregnant, Laois is really insistent on filling you up with his cum, biting, overstimulation

Laois held onto your hips, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulled you close to rub his bulge against your needy pussy. “You’re so pretty…”

His eyes were slightly hazy with lust, and you couldn’t help but whine, rubbing against him desperately. “P-please, Laois! I need it!”

The feeling of his calloused fingers tracing over your belly made you shiver in anticipation. Lately, you had noticed how focused on making sure you were well fed he was, along with fascinated with your tummy.

“Gonna…” he murmured, his fingers pressing down on the fatty part of your belly that protected your uterus. “gonna put a baby there, okay? Gonna…”

Your cheeks flushed with heat, the wet spot in your panties growing. Laois had never talked like that before, you didn’t even think he wanted children…

His thumb rubbed against your clothed clit as his lips pressed against your neck. “You want it? Want me to make you a mommy?”

“P-please…” you managed to choke out through your whimpers and panting. “Need it so bad!”

“Anything for you, sunshine…”

He pulled off your underwear, his cock rubbing against your dripping pussy. Usually he was insistent on eating you out, but today he desperately needed to fill you up with his cum. Laois needed to breed you more than he needed to breathe air.

He pushed in, groaning against your neck as your pussy clenched around him, eager to drain him of all his cum from the get go. “That’s my baby, gonna fill you up, promise…”

Laois fucked into you, biting down on your neck hard enough to have you yelp. But the pain ebbed away into pleasure, and his teeth were replaced with his lips, kissing away at the red mark.

“Sorry, love… can’t help it…”

He was hitting that special spot, making you cry out his name. “L-Laois, please don’t stop!”

Your nails dug into the soft flesh of his back, making him let out a sharp hiss. “Won’t, I promise…”

And he was right. Even hours later, when you were beyond exhausted and stuffed full of cum, he was still hitting that special spot, making you cum on his cock over and over.

“T-too much…” you were being fucked stupid, barely able to speak.

“Shh, you can take it. Gotta make sure it takes…”

He lightly pressed down on your belly, making his cum squirt out of you. Laois pouted a little.

“Looks like I’ll have to go again…”

———————

A few months later, you sat with Marcille as she fawned over your baby bump. “Oh, I can’t wait to be an Aunt! Do you think the baby will call me Auntie Marcille?”

You laughed, glancing at Laois as Falin and him watched the two of you through the doorway. “Probably. Marcille might be a mouthful for a baby though.”

“What about Marcy!?”

Laois and Falin cracked up, causing the blonde elf to blush. “W-what are you two laughing at?”

“Nothing… it just seems like you’re more eager for the baby to come than (Name) and I are.” Laois said, taking you into his arms. His hand brushed over your belly, his thumb rubbing against the bump softly.

Falin smiled warmly. “I think we’re all excited. Senshi has already started mapping out a meal plan for (Name)’s pregnancy.”

“Haha, he said he’ll teach the baby everything he knows, and Chilchuck is already giving me advice,” you said, laughing. “It’s sweet, you know they say raising a child takes a village… you guys are our village.”

Marcille started crying, hugging you. “Oh stop it, I’m going to cry!”

“Dear, you’re already crying.” Falin replied, kissing the top of her head.

You and Laois shared a kiss before he led you away by the hand. “Sorry ladies, but my wife needs a nap.”

Laois curled up next to you in bed, his face nuzzled into your neck. “Rest, my love.”

And you did, curled up with your beloved.

[waughymommy]

WM: Breastfeeding Kink & Diaper play

Disclaimer: all characters depicted in this story are consenting adults over the age of 18. If you are NOT 18 or older, Don't Read if UNDER 18

I startle awake from a throbbing pain in my breasts. Quietly groaning as I turn over onto my back not wanting to wake my sleeping little prince. My hand moves up to my big tits and oh god are they swollen. I’m not sure what’s been going on but for the past few days my breasts have been so tight and swollen and it’s just getting worse. I slowly begin to massage them in an attempt to ease the pain. “Oh fuck this isn’t helping at all” i whisper to myself. 

I pull my loose tank top away from my breasts and look at the swollen mounds. The only time I’ve ever seen breasts look like this were when my best friend breastfed her little in front of me… wait. It can’t be can it? There’s no way I haven’t even been taking the special pills she had to take to induce lactation! 

I open my phone to Google and type in “what can cause you to lactate?” I click the first site that pops up. “There are many things that can induce lactation such as Yada yada yada medications such a birth control… FUCK.” I whisper yell. I did not just accidentally induce lactation with the new birth control I’m on. Oh god we haven’t even had this discussion yet I’m not sure it’s even something he’d be into. But my breasts hurt so bad I need some relief. 

I get up from bed as quietly as I can and walk into the adjoining bathroom. I flicker the lights on and keep the door open just the slightest bit incase my little prince needs me. I look in the mirror and slowly pull my tank top down. My tits spring out all heavy and full. “Fuck” I hiss quietly as I press down in the swollen flesh.

I slide my finger down to my nipple and begin to stimulate it. A milky liquid starts to drip out and I almost can’t believe it. I moan as my finger squeezes some more out. Oh fuck that feels good. 

A quiet voice interrupts my ministrations “Mommy?” I look over to my left side and my little prince is at the bathroom door just in his princess t shirt and full diaper staring at my dripping nipples in wide eyed wonder. Fuck he looks so beautiful with his bed head and sleepy eyes. He rubs at his eyes and hold the door frame. 

“Mommy what’s that?” He points to the liquid still dripping from my hard nipple. 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about baby boy just turn your little tush around and go back to bed. I’ll be right there.” I say as I walk toward him and turn him around with my hands on his shoulders walking him back to the bed. He throws his head back and whines lowly, “but mommy I’m thirsty das why I woke up!” He says as I set him down back in bed. 

He looks up at me and his eyes move back to my nipples and his lips part and drool seeps out. “Okay baby you just wait right here and mommy will get you a drink of water.” I move toward the door but he grabs my wrist and with those doe eyes of his staring up at me and says “But I wan mommy’s milkies!” He whines again. His tonight peaks out and he licks his lips. “I’m not sure honey we havent really spoken about this.” I say as I softly caress the side of his face. He leans his head into my hand and pouts. 

“Please mommy please I just wanna try and see what it’s like. If you don’t like it or If I don’t like it we always have our safe word!” He trues to reason with me. And he’s not wrong so what could be the harm? I’ve secretly wanted this so badly for the longest time. I sigh and smile at him and nod. 

“Okay sweetheart you won, let mommy get comfy in bed first.” He claps his hands in excitement and slaps a sloppy wet kiss on my lips. I laugh as I crawl into bed and settle against my pillows. I pat my lap for him, “come here sweetie and lay side ways in mommy’s lap. Put you head right there in mommy’s elbow.” I maneuver him a little till he’s sitting just right, I cover him in the blankets and turn the low lamp on. A soft glow covers the room as he looks up at me with his lips slightly parted. I can tell he’s just as excited as I am. My sweet little boy. 

“Alright baby boy open those pretty lips for mommy.” I hold my boob up and my nipple leaks as I pull it and drop it in his waiting mouth. His lips close around my nipple immediately and he begins to softly suck. It takes him a few moments to really get the hang on how to latch on but soon his tongue is working in overdrive and hes suckling away like his life depends on it. I a gasp at the strength of his suckling and softly run my hands through his brown hair. “Sweetheart mommy isn’t going anywhere you can drink slowly, I promise I’m not going anywhere.” He closes his eyes and the suckling gets softer as soon as he realizes I’m not gonna snatch my nipple away from him. I moan quietly as I watch him drink. 

He’s such a sweet little boy suckling on his mommy’s nipples. I slide my hand down to his diaper and rub at his diapee covered cock. It’s so hard. I won’t lie my panties have absolutely socked through at this point. The feeling of his tongue lapping at the milk from my tits is just so erotic. He moans as my hand continues it’s rubbing. 

His hand reaches for my other leaking breast and he begins to fondle the nipple. Pulling and clutching at it, the milk dribbles done his fingers soaking them. I can’t help but moan out at the feeling. “Oh sweet boy that feels so good. You’re such a good boy just keep playing with mommy’s nipples like that.” I say a little breathless. 

I slip my hand into his diaper and just as my hand reaches the tip of his little cock he begins to piss right into my palm. I laugh a little and look at him a she pauses his suckling. His cheeks flame red, “I’m sorry mommy I couldn’t hold it.” He’s so fucking cute. 

“It’s okay baby you can go pee when you need to you know that. It’s why you have a diaper on to be able to lose control over your bowels and bladder whenever you need.” His stream continues as it hits my hand and I press down on the slit it’s pouring out of feeling the force of it. His piss is so warm on my hand as it fills his already soaked diaper. 

He smiles and nuzzles my breast and begins to suckle again as he pisses in my hand. He’s so fucking sexy sometimes I can’t believe he’s all mine. 

My sweet little boy.🍼😍💦🥰

[theosbaby]

birthday princess

stepbro!draco malfoy x fem!reader

masterlist

part one ;; off-limits

SUMMARY ! it's your nineteenth birthday and your stepbrother gives his favourite girl a very special birthday present.

WARNINGS ! college!au, innocent!reader, dom!draco, sub!reader, stepcest, SMUT, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, lots of praising and (shitty) dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up everybody!)

NOTES ! english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. i'm kinda obsessed with stepbrother!draco lately, so i'm gonna make this a series... hope you like it!

you were back in college, the new semester had just started after christmas break and you were forced to return to your usual rutine; which you didn't want to, because that meant draco and you would have to be apart for months till you both came back home for summer break; drawbacks of going to separate schools, miles away from each other.

today, it was friday, and it was your birthday. your roommate had tried to convince you, very insistently, to go with her to a frat party to celebrate, allegating that "it was supposed to be fun turning nineteen", but you were far too depressed to party, so she ended up going alone; you just missed draco very much. you knew that what you guys had was very wrong, but you couldn't stop thinking about that night in his bedroom. the way he had touched you, the way he had kissed you, the way he had made you feel...

gods, now you were depressed and horny.

a soft knocking on your door brought you back to reality and you sighed, rolling your eyes. you got up from your bed, thinking it was just your roommate again —she tended to forget her keys very frequently. but when you opened the door and saw draco standing there, you almost cried.

"happy birthday, princess," he said with that sultry voice of his that you had missed so much.

he was carrying a huge flowers bouquet on one hand and a white paper bag on the other. he was looking at you with the biggest smile on his face, and you didn't hesitate to throw yourself at him to hug him tightly.

"draco!" you shouted, your voice muted by his flesh as you buried your face on the crook of his neck, inhaling his expensive cologne.

draco chuckled, returning the hug instantly. "missed me that much?" he teased, kissing your temple softly.

"yeah, i did," you muttered as you nodded. you pulled back slightly to look up at him with a cute blush and bright eyes, "can't believe you came all the way here just to see me! you didn't have to..."

"well, i couldn't let my favorite birthday girl spend her day alone now, could i?" draco asked with a smirk, placing another kiss on your forehead that time.

he stepped into your dormroom slowly, picking you up with one arm as if you were nothing to carry you inside. then, he closed the door behind him using his foot.

"i love you."

you smiled big, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a chaste peck on the lips; you couldn't help but blush as you did so.

"i love you more," he whispered against your mouth, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

he then set you down gently, careful not to crush the bouquet between your two bodies; you quickly grabbed it, smelling the fresh scent of the flowers. you did not have a proper vase to put the bouquet in, so you just settled it carefully on top of your desk.

"these are beautiful," you said; the bouquet was made of pink tulips, your favourites.

"i bought you a little present too, wanna open it?" he asked, giving you the white bag.

"yes!" you giggled as you took it and ran excitedly towards your bed.

you sat down on it while draco stared at you adoringly. with shaky hands, you took a little box out of the bag; it was covered in a pretty silver wrapping paper that you quickly ripped open. inside the box, you found a gold necklace with a heart pendant; on the backside of it, it could be read: "draco's little princess".

you smiled big when you saw it. "it's so pretty, i love it!"

"i knew you would." draco smirked, walking over to you and taking the necklace from your hands. he sat behind you on the bed, saying, "let me put it on for you."

he gently pushed your long hair aside to place the necklace around your neck. after that, he leaned in, planting a tender kiss on your soft skin. you turned around to face him, kneeling on the bed while you pushed your hair backwards again to show him how the necklace looked on you, your thin and tiny white singlet doing nothing to cover your body.

"perfect," he breathed out, looking at you with such intensity that it made your heart skip a beat.

his eyes traveled down to your lips as his fingers traced the outline of the pendant resting on your chest. you blushed, averting his gaze, as a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"don't look at me like that." you chuckled shyly, covering your flushed face.

"like what?"

he smirked cupping your face to force you to look at him, he was still gazing at you like he wanted to devour you. you swallowed hard as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered about crazily. you let out a breathy sigh, your lips parting slightly.

"like you wanna eat me up..." you answered timidly, your voice was merely above a whisper as you did so.

"you have no idea how much I want to," he admitted, a small growl rumbling from his chest. he brushed his thumb over your full bottom lip, causing you to gasp softly, then he added, "been dying to taste that sweet pussy of yours, princess."

you were a lost for words as his blunt statement made your heart race like crazy, you could feel your face and ears heating up from embarrassment but also from arousal.

"don't be shy, baby," he purred, leaning in closer until his breath fanned across your neck and he peppered your skin with little kisses, "would you let me eat your beautiful pussy? wanna make my girl feel good on her special day..." he asked with a soft voice.

you squirmed and let out a little whimper as you felt his hands moving down to grasp at your creamy thighs, pulling you onto his lap. your head tilted to the side, giving him full access to your neck. all that attention he was giving to your body was making you really wet, your pussy aching to be touched, so you nodded in response.

"yes, princess?" he whispered against your skin, nipping at it gently.

he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, seeing the need and desire there.

"you want me to eat your pussy? use your words, baby," he questioned again, his voice husky with lust.

"yeah... want you to eat my pussy, dray," you muttered shyly, blushing at the dirty words that came out of your mouth.

"good girl," he praised you.

he gave you a small kiss on the lips before standing up with you in his arms to place you on your back on top of the bed.

"now, spread those beautiful legs wide for me," he commanded, gently caressing the back of your knees.

you obeyed instantly, looking up at him with big innocent eyes. your tiny shorts hiked up, barely covering your skin. he eased himself between your spread thighs, his hands trailing up your legs tenderly in search for the waistband of your pijama bottoms.

his fingers tugged at it to start pulling them down alongside your cotton panties. you lifted your hips to allow him to take off your clothes easily, and both items of clothing got stuck at your left ankle, but you just left them there, too eager to feel his touch to care.

now, you laid completely bare and vulnerable in front of him, your body shivering in anticipation.

"gods, you're so fucking gorgeous," he muttered, his voice low and husky.

he lowered his face to kiss your stomach, trailing hot kisses all the way down to your mound as his hands gripped your hips tightly. you whimpered at his compliment, your hand reaching to grasp at his blonde hair.

"draco, don't tease." you pouted, running your fingers through his soft strands.

"ask nicely," he purred, nipping at your inner thigh playfully, while he groaned in pleasure as you continued to tug on his hair, encouraging him.

"dray, please, need you so bad," you pleaded, your hips jerking forward; your clit was throbbing with need.

"very well, princess," he cooed, kissing his way up your inner thigh towards your sensitive pussy.

his tongue flicked out to tease your little bud before he sucked it into his mouth, groaning against your skin as he tasted you for the first time. you moaned in delight, pulling gently at his hair to push him closer to your cunt. the new sensation made your toes curl; you had never had your pussy eaten, and gods, it felt so fucking good.

"mhmm, you taste so fucking sweet, baby," he hummed against your cunt.

his tongue kept tracing slow circles around your swollen clit before he sucked it into his mouth, causing you to gasp and buck your hips. you cried out so softly, your pretty voice echoing in the silence of your dormroom, while your back arched from the bed.

"love those pretty sounds you make for me, princess," he praised between licks and sucks.

his hands gripped your hips tightly to hold you still as he continued to worship your pussy. you felt one of them sliding up and underneath your singlet to cup one of your breaths. you panted when his fingers toyed with your perky little nipple, that hardened instantly beneath his touch.

"draco," you moaned, grinding your pussy against his face.

"so fucking desperate for your stepbrother, huh?" he teased, "you gonna cum on my face, baby?"

he switched his attention to your other nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers as he continued to eat you out. he lifted his eyes to look at you, his lips curling up into a predatory smile as his tongue flicked against your clit faster now, knowing that you were close.

"yeah," you muttered in response between needy whimpers.

you breathed out, your chest raising and falling rapidly as you felt your pussy clenching and pulsing around nothing; the coil in your belly tightened, announcing your upcoming orgasm.

"come for me, princess," he growled against your pussy before taking your clit into his mouth and sucking hard. you moaned, your hips jerking up as he worked to pull your orgasm from you.

letting out a cry of pleasure, you came on his face while your whole body trembled. you couldn't help but arch your back from the mattress as you gasped for air. the feeling was so good that your vision went blank for a second. when you finally came down from your high, he slowly pulled away.

"that's my good girl," he purred, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

he stood up and helped you remove the last of your clothes before starting to unbutton his own shirt. panting, you reached to unbuckle his belt eagerly while he got rid of his dress shirt. your skin was flushed and your body still flustered from your recent orgasm.

"so impatient," he chuckled, pulling his trousers and boxers down before climbing on top of you.

he grabbed his hard cock to press the tip against your slick pussy, rubbing it teasingly as he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. you moaned into the kiss, your hips bucking against him while he teased your clit with his cockhead.

"you want this cock, baby?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble against your lips as he continued to tease you. "want me to fuck you?"

"yes, please..." you answered, wrapping your legs around his hips to urge him.

with a smirk, he thrust forward, burying his cock deep inside you in one swift motion.

"fuck," he groaned, feeling your tight pussy clamp down around him. "you're so fucking tight."

your eyes rolled back at the feeling, his cock obviously too big for your tiny cunt, but somehow he managed to make it fit like he did the first time. he started to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he fucked you hard. you gasped out his name with each deep thrust, your nails digging into his back as you tried to get closer to him.

"you like that, huh?" he whispered, "you like your stepbrother's cock stretching your tight little pussy?"

your cunt tightened in response to his words, your face scrunching in pleasure while you nodded, unable to form any coherent sentence. your face was flushed as you heard the creaking from the bed and the filthy wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours.

"look at you, all fucked out on my cock," he growled lowly.

you truly were a sight for sore eyes; you looked so innocent, but at the same time you were taking his dick like a total slut, making him go bloody crazy. he grabbed your legs to pull them up so he could fuck you deeper. you cried out, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he went balls deep.

"you're such a dirty little thing." his dirty talk was making you so wet that you were dripping onto your bedding.

"oh, draco," you moaned loudly

your hands reached to grasp at your own thighs as he pushed your legs onto your chest; the new angle had your toes curling and your legs shaking. he was holding onto your calves, gently kissing your ankles. his grey eyes glazed with lust as he continued to pound into you, hitting that spot inside you that had you squirming under him.

"fuck, feels so good," he groaned, his teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

you let out a breathy whimper as you clenched around his thick shaft, saying, "i'm so close."

"let go, princess," he commanded sweetly, "cum on my cock."

he gave you one last hard thrust, sending you over the edge. your orgasm crashed down on you and you cried out in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as your cunt engulfed his dick harshly. his eyes fluttered closed when he felt you pulsing around him, his whole body shuddering while you milked his cock, making him cum inside you with a low groan.

"happy fucking birthday, baby."

fuck you if that hadn't been the happiest birthday of your entire life.

[the-californicationist]

Friday Night Magic

AO3 Link -- I'm pretty sure this was an old ask, but I don't have the original request anymore. Sorry!

Your husband of many years, John Price, has been keeping your secret: you love it when he plays doctor, giving you a happy little pill that makes you really sleepy, really fast. The best part is that you never know how you’ll be woken up. But, when he suggests that you can still play together even while he’s in the middle of hosting game night with his mates, you decide to trust in the fact that the doctor really does know best. 

TW: non-consensual sex, drugged sex, nc-somno, rape, gangbang, betrayal, anal and vaginal sex, references to past rape events

His hand was doing nothing for him, and John hadn’t drawn a usable spell in the past six turns. He was mana-screwed and bored with his lieutenant’s penchant for playing control decks. But, it was Friday, and that’s all that mattered. The tired captain always looked forward to Fridays when they were off-mission. It meant that he got to drink through his whiskey collection, smoke way too damn many cigars, and play Magic: the Gathering with his mates. All work and no play makes John a dull boy, after all. 

Friday nights also meant that you were tucked away in your room, playing with yourself while your man played cards, often overstimulating yourself to the point of tears so that when he was ready to fuck you, his cheeks pink and his breath smelling of whiskey and tobacco, he could go for hours, his fat dick drowning in the milky mess you’d made. He was like your very own sex machine, pounding away at your drooling hole, half-drunk and eager to have you in every position he could dream of. 

Sometimes, though, John’s Friday nights were extra special. Right now, he couldn’t even concentrate on the game. He just wanted to check on you to see if he was about to get a very rare kind of lucky. Fingers crossed, he excused himself from the table and padded into his bedroom, nudging the door open a crack to see where you were. 

You were laying in bed atop your plush blanket, dressed in a matching mesh set, a pale pink bra and crotchless panty, lazily touching yourself with your deft fingers and reading smut on your phone. You didn’t even remove your hand from your clit when he walked in, continuing to swirl slow circles around its sensitive head, rolling your hips just a little to help you feel the slow, delightful drag of your pleasure.  

“Hey, pretty bird,” John purred, sitting beside you, feeling the mattress sink under his weight. 

“Hey, baby. You done with your game?” You asked, peeked up over the edge of your phone before turning back to your scrolling.

“Not yet,” John leaned forward and kissed your nipple through the fabric of your bra, the thin mesh letting you feel the hot, wet whisper of his tongue.

You moaned for him, a lovely, ragged sound. It awakened something mean and primal in his chest. You pouted a bit when he pulled away, your bottom lip bulging out and showing him a small frown,

“I thought you wanted to play doctor tonight.”

Jackpot. John was a lucky man, indeed. He felt the blood from his core rush down to his prick, making his flesh instantly start to swell. He loved playing doctor. 

“We can still play,” he began to tease you, snaking his hand up your ankle and calf, his palm warming your skin. 

“Aren’t your mates still here?” You asked, a hint of scandal in your tone. 

John cocked an eyebrow, questioning your inquiry, a bit put out by your resistance,

“Don’t you wanna take your medicine, love?” His hand slipped slowly over the meat of your inner thigh, his longest fingers reaching just past the seal of your lips, barely dipping into your swollen, drooling hole, “Feels like you’ve got a fever.”

“You think so?” You smiled coyly up at him, putting down your phone and playing with your nipples in front of him, pinching and shaking them back and forth through the pink fabric. 

John nodded, “I think you should take a pill, yeah? Better nip this in the bud before you get sick, sweetheart.”

“The doctor knows best!” You winked at him and rooted around in the bottom of your beside table.

You pulled out a little purple pill bottle, tipped the lid, and placed a white tablet in his open palm. John removed his other hand from between your legs and used the fingers that had been inside of you to gently lift the pill to your lips. 

“Say ahh,” he commanded, almost all of the softness gone from his voice. 

“Ahh…” You made a long noise with your throat, tipping your head back and sticking out your tongue. When you felt the pill land in place, you flipped it under your tongue to allow it to dissolve. 

“Good girl,” John praised you, letting you suckle on his slick-covered fingers as you liked, enjoying how you were sucking him down to his knuckles as if you were practicing for his cock. Then, once the pill was gone, you released his hand and kissed his palm, the sticky sheen of your lip gloss making a little popping noise as you did. 

“Thank you, doctor. I know you’ll make me feel so much better,” you smiled, 

“I will, sweetheart. Come say goodnight to the boys.”

“Okay, but I need my robe,” you said, your voice laced with heavy apprehension. John wasn’t asking, though, and he helped you stand up from the bed, taking your phone and wrapping your silk nightgown around you, doing the bare minimum for your modesty. 

You fixed yourself in your vanity mirror and followed John out into the main room, holding the robe tight against your body as you emerged. 

“Hey, bonnie,” Soap’s face lit up, “Good to see ya.”

“You, too! Just wanted to come say good night before I went off to bed.”

“Oh, no. You gotta join us for a game, babes. It’s been too long,” Gaz chided you playfully, grabbing you by the shoulder and guiding you to the table. 

You looked up at John for help. But, he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew you only had a few more minutes before the pill would start to take effect, and he also knew that you were way too shy to tell them the truth about your naughty little habit. 

What could you say? Oh, sorry, I can’t play tonight. I took an extra-strength sleeping pill because I want my husband to fuck me while I’m helpless and knocked out cold. 

John smiled, watching you squirm and rack your brain for any and every excuse to back out,

“Oh, no, there’s no more chairs. I’ll just —“

“Si’ down,” Simon said curtly, grabbing your hip and pulling you down onto his lap, letting your legs straddle one of his huge thighs, “You can play my hand, Mrs. Price.”

The fact that your robe had ridden up your legs almost to reveal your thick asscheeks was only a secondary concern. The primary one was that your well-rubbed pussy was already leaving a damp stain on Simon’s jeans. His thigh was as hard as a stone, heavy with muscle, and he was holding your hip hard enough to keep you fully pressed to him. The only movement you could make was to grind back against him, which you had to do every time you lost your balance on his leg. 

You tried your best to pay attention to the game, but you were struggling to stay alert. The pill’s effects were making your head foggy and your eyes droop. Your fingers were too weak to hold the cards, and when they dropped from your hand, your husband’s smile turned sinister.

“Feelin’ alright there, love?” Gaz asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Um…” You tried to form a sentence, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Felt a bit under the weather earlier, wasn’t she? Took her pill, though. Makes her a bit drowsy,” Price explained, sitting next to Simon, rubbing your back, not seeming to care that his hands were shifting the collar of the robe out of place and making it hang down your shoulder, revealing the top of your sheer bra to the whole room. 

You tried to fix it, but you were slowly losing control of your arms, feeling like you were floating in a dreamy sea. 

“Dinnae fash, hen,” Johnny grinned, folding his hand on the table, “We’ll tuck you in, won’t we, lads?”

“Aye, that we will,” Simon’s voice was deep and low, spoken right into your ear. 

You looked up at John for help, realizing that he wasn’t going to save you. You thought he would scoop you up and take you back to bed, or at least make some excuse and send his men home, but no. He was letting them pull at your robe so that it hung around your waist, watching them reveal your ample tits in your see-through bra, doing nothing but looking pleased as could be. 

“John…” You slurred, feeling yourself slip away to a drugged sleep, hearing his words right before your head fell to the table in front of you,

“Sweet dreams, love.”

You were gone from the world, floating in between being awake and being asleep. And it almost seemed like you could feel yourself being fucked. The pleasure was there, and yet, you couldn’t move or scream. You couldn't open your eyes. But, John would never allow that to happen. It was just a dream, right?

When you first awoke in one of your windows of consciousness, you were still at the table, but something was… wrong. You hadn’t moved from Simon’s lap, but now, he was moving you. You were split over his cock, and he was buried, balls-deep in your pussy, fondling your breasts under your mesh bra. The others were laughing, talking, joking, carrying on their game, but their eyes leered at you like hyenas waiting their turn to sink their teeth into the neck of a caught gazelle.

“Mmngh, ungh,” you tried to speak, but you sounded drunk, “John?”

“No, princess,” Simon snarled in your ear, “Your big man’s lettin’ us jump the line, yeah? Nice of him, innit? Fuck, I love Fridays.”

“What?” You were so confused. Why was Simon talking as if this had happened before? You were so ashamed, and John was right beside you. How could he let this happen? “John… Please…”

You tried to reach out to him, but your arms only lifted to his knee, trying to grab at his shirt or hand, anything to make him help you. Simon’s dick was steadily pounding into your swollen cunt, and John was just smoking his cigar and laughing at your feeble attempts to get free. 

“Hush, now, love. Riley loves playin’ doctor, just like me. In fact, the boys have been takin’ good care of you every time they stop by, haven’t you?”

“Aye,” Johnny held his whiskey up to you as if to give you a toast, his eyes wide and full of a sick sort of hunger, “That bonnie cunt gets me through the week, lass. And ye keep it so wet for us. Such a good wee missus you’ve got, Cap’n.”

“Can’t thank you enough for the hospitality, Mrs. Price,” Gaz nodded to Soap, agreeing with his crude statement, taking another swig of his drink as his other hand moved under the table, moving rhythmically, obviously jerking himself off to the sight of you being speared on Simon’s big dick. 

Suddenly, you felt Simon’s hands grip your hips on both sides of your body, holding you down onto the base of his cock, and you knew that he was about to come. You squirmed, wishing you could muster up any kind of strength, feeling as if you were still dreaming, 

“No… No! Stop… Please… Don’t come in me…”

John cupped your cheek as his lieutenant dumped load after load of his sticky come into your body, his cock pulsing inside of you like a heartbeat, each throb of its huge shaft was another thick pool of his spend, turning your stomach and bringing desperate tears to the corners of your eyes.

“Shh, shh, shh,” John purred, “Take the medicine Riley’s givin’ you, love. It’ll make you feel so much better. You want mine next, hm? Will that make it right, pretty girl?”

“Unghhh…” You felt your body betray you, your pussy needing to come. Simon had one of his hands working quick, lurid circles around your clit, and now he was dragging you to a climactic peak, forcing you to come on his spent cock. 

As you felt yourself spin out of control, your legs began to shake, giving away your moment of pleasure to the whole table. 

“That’s a good girl,” John praised you, brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face. 

“Fuck, she’s so wet. I think she likes an audience, Cap,” Simon observed, planting sloppy kisses onto your neck as you trembled from the aftershocks of your bliss. 

They barely allowed you to cool down before John said,

“C’mere, love. My turn.”

Simon lifted you off of his lap with Price’s help, your robe fluttering to the floor. Your husband turned you on your back, laying you on the table across the cold wood and stacks of strewn playing cards. You tried to roll away, tried to sit up, but it was no use. The drugs had their hold on you, and you felt yourself fading back into a deep sleep. 

Just before the blackness took you, you saw John lining up his fat, drooling cock at your entrance, sliding his head through Riley’s come with little resistance. 

“Mmm-fuck. You’re so tight even after Riley’s prick, love. This pussy can just take so much cock, huh? Perfect girl.”

You slipped away into sleep yet again, and it seemed like you had only been out for a few minutes. You woke again in the same position, with your husband brutally pounding away at your hole, stuffing himself inside with wet, slick, slapping sounds. 

Hands were roughly groping your tits from the other side of the table, none of which belonged to your husband, and as they played with your nipples, they began to pinch and pull at them, making you cry out. 

“Look who’s awake again,” John cooed, his voice laced with farcical pity, “Don’t worry. You’ll get Johnny and Kyle soon enough.”

You couldn’t hold on. You tried to struggle against the shadowy slumber that pressed down on all your senses, but it was no use. 

When you woke up again, you were in bed. Your pillow and blanket were gone, but you recognized the soft sheets. Then, you realized you were moving. The whole mattress was shaking back and forth, and Johnny was behind you, shoving his leaking dick into your asshole. 

“Unghff-fuck! You back among the living, bonnie? Your tight little hole just grabbed me like a fuckin’ vice.”

“S-s-stop. Please…” You managed to whisper, your throat feeling sore for some reason. You tried not to think about why that would be.

“Cannae stop, lass. Your man’s dead set on findin’ the cure for what ails you, and I’m here to help. Based on how wet your wee slit has become, I think we’re on the right track.”

Just when you heard his words tease you about your wetness, you felt his fingers slip inside of your pussy, three of them, cruelly thick, following his cock’s rhythm, stretching you wider than you’d ever been in your whole life. 

You tried to cry out, to scream, to call for help, but it was no use. So, you melted into his efforts instead, feeling your muscles flutter against him, threatening to make you come from his anal sex. He didn’t seem to notice your mounting pleasure, or if he did, he didn’t much care. He just continued to thrust into your holes, slamming his stocky weight into you, making your cheek sink into the mattress as you lay face-down, ass-up for your husband’s best friend.

The last thing you heard as you fell into unconsciousness was Johnny’s moans, and his comment of surprise,

“Oh, bonnie girl. You gonna come for me? Fuck, yes…”

Your next moment of lucidity was in the living room. You were on the couch. Well, your face was laying against the crook of someone’s neck, your forehead pushing into the fabric upholstery, as you were being fucked in their lap on the sofa. You tried to lift yourself to see what was happening to you, and as you did, you saw that you were riding Simon again, straddling his legs as he fucked his cock up into your dripping hole from below. His mouth was suckling from your nipple, your bra missing, latched on and unwilling to let go, leaving little hickies behind as his teeth teased the sensitive nub. 

But, he wasn’t alone. There was… something… happening to your asshole. You craned your neck to see Kyle standing behind you, fucking his long dick into your ass as Simon pounded into you from below. 

You let out a long moan, the pleasure that you’d been receiving clearly coursing through you despite your lack of consent. You had been coming and coming and coming, and you hadn’t been awake for any of it. 

“Holy shit,” Garrick growled, his grip on your flank tightening hard enough to bruise, “She’s gonna come again. Can’t fuckin’ believe it. Feels so goddamn good.”

“Fuck,” Simon popped his mouth away from your chest to lean his head back, relaxing as he rode the waves of your impromptu orgasm, “Oh, look. She’s awake.”

Kyle’s huge hand fisted your hair and pulled you back so he could see your face,

“I dunno. I wouldn’t call that awake. How much did she take?”

“Cap gave her two more when she was with him and Soap, so we’ve got time, Sergeant. Don’t we, love?” Simon grabbed your face without care, squeezing your cheeks and making you look at him through hooded, tired eyes, “Oh, yeah, we do. All the time in the world.”

Fic #99 is in the bag... next one will be #100! Thanks to everyone for supporting me through my absolute descent into madness. lol

[princesajellyfish]

Taste me

Rating: Mature (18+ No Minors allowed)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Characters: Laios Touden Content: Smut, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Semi-Public Sex Word count: 3805 Reader has a pussy and and wears a skirt. Everything else is up to interpretation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Laios, you're so special to me.”

Currently you lay on the hard and rocky floor of the dungeon. Pebbles and sharp edges poked your soft flesh and the back of your head started to ache from being pushed against its hard surface. But how could you possibly pay attention to that when you have the world's most handsome explorer in between your thighs. If you would've known that this is how confessing would've turned out you would've done so much much sooner. 

Laios and you had shared mutual attraction for each other for sometime now. You, of course, noticed it much earlier than Laios ever could've. He was such a cutie, even though he was doing his best to hide his affections towards you it was impossible for you not to notice his longing gazes at night by the fire, or the extra portions of food that he would put aside for you. You would have been a fool not to notice any sooner. 

Knowing Laios for as long as you have you knew that approaching the subject subtly was not going to work out with Laios. When it came to romance, it was not going to cut it. The love of your life was caring, sweet, and knowledgeable on all things monsters and dungeons, but he was not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to social cues. You didn't mind of course, that was one of the things you found the most endearing about him. No matter how wary he was of other people and their intentions he always did his best to stay as genuine and sincere to himself as he could. The way he was so brave and willing to be unapologetically himself made you look up to him and admire his strong will. But gosh was he dense. 

Swallowing your own nerves you knew that if you wanted this relationship to advance anywhere you were going to have to to set things in motion. Not wasting any time one evening after eating a dish that consisted of harpy eggs and vegetables from senshis garden you volunteered to accompany Laios on a quest to find some extra fire material. 

Walking alone in the dungeon halls was not the most romantic ambiance or the place where you imagined you would have your love confession in - but this was Laios you had fallen for, confessing here was probably his equivalent of a grandiose cherry blossom confession. 

He had been rambling about his dream monster, something he had only spoken to you about, apart from his sister Falin, before you interrupted him. “I'm so sorry Laios, you know I love your monster talk…but there is something important I have to talk to you about.” you wrung your hands into the fabric of your long skirt, twisting and pulling to find confidence in between its threads. 

Sensing your nerves Laiois placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and nudged you to turn your body slightly towards him. His gorgeous puppy dog amber eyes peered into yours and scanned your face over, you guessed he was checking you out to see if you had any injuries bothering you. In return you averted his own gaze and stared down at your fidgeting hands. Finally he spoke up to break the silence, “Hey? Everything alright? Did the food not settle well with you?”

Oh silly Laios, always thinking about food, If you weren't so nervous right now you would've laughed at his question. Shaking your head you found the courage to lift your eyes back to his. 

You knew that Laios at least held some sort of affection towards you. You were still unsure if it ran as deep and as passionate as your feelings for him but you knew there was something there. You also knew that even if Laios wanted nothing to do with you in that way he would never belittle you for it. He was gentle and kind, a little too much sometimes, but he always treated others with respect. He had never done anything to hurt you purposefully. So you weren't quite sure why you felt so shaken by your attempt to confess. You supposed, that is just what love feels like. 

You really hoped it would get a little less scary in the future. 

“Laios, I think I love you.”

There, you said it. As blunt and straight to the point as you could, You made sure to leave nothing up to interpretation for Laios. You wanted him to fully understand the gravity of your feelings for him. Feeling anxiety crawl up your throat you quickly added  “And it's okay if you don't feel the same way. Or if that's too much too soon. I just wanted you to know.” 

The more you spoke the more you felt your voice die in your throat, each word sounding quieter than the last. Laios had still not said a word, but he stared at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. In this moment you felt like you could puke from your nerves and yet you still thought the man in front you couldn't possibly look any cuter, 

Suddenly you heard him take in the biggest breath of air he could muster, alerting you that this man had stopped breathing since you confessed to him, and then exhaled with the most hearty laugh you've ever heard come from him. His cheeks bloomed in hues of reds and pinks, unstoppable rivers of blood that reached the tip of his fingers and pooled to his neck. His eyes blinked rapidly as if he was trying to make sure he wasn't in a dream. “Please,” he hiccuped, “Do you mean it?” 

You stared at his face before lowering your gaze to his lips. They were slightly parted and you could get a glimpse of his cute pink tongue. He must've noticed your stares because he let his tongue quickly swipe over his lips to wet them. Gazing back up to his eyes your hand finally let go of its death grip on your skirt and instead gently nestled into the side of his face. “I wouldn't even dream about joking about this Laois.” His eyes suddenly felt too intense for you so you closed your eyes and took another deep breath, “I love you and I can't contain it anymore. From the moment I met you I fell so deeply for you. You're so perfect. So kind.” You rubbed gentle circles on his cheeks, “‘You drive me crazy.”

Every word you spoke felt like a punch to the chest for Laios. In the best way possible. He never knew that hearing you sing such praises about him would affect him so viscerally. To his embarrassment he began to feel his pants become uncomfortably tight. “Not right now,” he thought. He didn't want to ruin your confession with his pervy thoughts. 

He brought his hand up to your wrist and held it in his grasp. You observed how his eyebrows crinkled in frustration as he shut his eyes tightly. His breathing seems labored and small beads of sweat began to form on his hairline. If it wasn't for his grasp on your wrist you would have fallen backward from the overwhelming amount of desire you felt for him. Gods…you wanted him so bad. 

Taking advantage of his closed eyes you let your own travel. You started off by staring at his lips still moist from his tongue, but your sinful desires seemed to take full control of your actions as you let your eyes wander further down his body. His armor in the way of you admiring his chest annoyed you for a second before you got a glimpse of something better. So this is why he was in deep concentration. 

Laios was suddenly shook from his stupor when the sound of your airy laugh reached his ears. Slowly peeking his eyes open he was welcomed by the sight of your beautiful face. Eyes clouded with something he couldn't describe stared directly at his current source of frustration. Gasping he pushed himself back and dropped your wrist as if it had burned him. 

He opened his mouth once, twice, three times to attempt and get some words out but for the life of him he couldn't form a single coherent sentence. A thousand things ran through his head and now it was turn to fidget with his hands. Pulling and picking his fingers he turned his body to face the wall behind him. He knew his silence could be taken wrongly and the last thing he wanted was to mess up his chances with the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. 

Thankfully, you knew the man you had fallen for better than you knew yourself. So you allowed him to have his moment alone. After all, you were more than pleased with his reaction to your confession. 

Finally he turned his head to the side, body still facing the wall, and began to speak up. “I'm sorry, I promise I'm not a perv. I don't know why I'm reacting like this,” He took in another deep breath, “You deserve a more romantic response.”

Giggling you made your way towards him and wrapped your arms around his armored torso, resting your head against his back you let out a content sigh. At this sudden feeling of warmth Laois tensed up before he quickly relaxed in your arms. “You're perfect Laios.”

Fuck. 

He was so fucking hard. Did you even know how much power you had over him? How all you had to do was ask him to give you the world and he would do it. You could ask for the moon and the stars and he would spend his entire life figuring out how to do it. He loved you. Oh he loved you so much. Gods, the minute he laid eyes on you for the first time, you introduced him to a thousand new emotions he had no idea what to do with for the first time in his life. He knew what attraction was, and he understood what it meant. But love? This type of love? He wanted to learn everything about it solely with you. 

Gaining confidence he flipped his body to face you, careful with your arms as he held them against himself. You could've melted in his arms right then and there, he looked at you with such adoration and love you almost felt bad about how much it excited you…almost. Testing the waters you pushed your body against his, feeling his boner poking your body. 

“Hmph- wait (y/n),” his face becoming impossibly more red than before. He laid his head on top of yours and breathed in your scent. There was no way he was going to be able to control himself for much longer if you kept testing him like this. 

Feeling bold, and a little impatient, you positioned your arms to wrap around his neck and brought your lips to his ear to whisper “It’s okay baby, I feel the same way too.” 

You gently grabbed his, very sweaty, hand and placed it on the hem of your skirt. “I want you Laios,”  his fingers curled around the hem, “If you want me too then I'm all yours.” 

That was all he needed to hear. Almost too fast your skirt was pooled around your ankles and the cold dungeon air kissed your bare legs. Still pressed against him you not only heard but felt the vibrations of his almost animalistic growl he released.

Gently separating from him you reached for the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, discarding it on the floor. You wished there was a way to permanently tattoo the sight of Laios staring at you as if you were an angel sent from above into your eyelids. He made you feel so loved, so beautiful. One of the many reasons why you fell in love with him.

He quickly reached out for you once more and attacked your lips with his tongue, he wanted, no he needed, to taste you. Hot breaths melted into each other and moans danced together in the air. Your fingers wrapped around his ash blonde locks and slightly pulled whenever he would bite down on your lower lip with his teeth. As dreamy as this felt, there was still something bothering you. Tilting your head away from Laios you watched as he instinctively tried to follow your lips before you rested your palm against his. “I dont think it's really fair that I'm the only one half naked here.”

Gasping at your confession Laios began to fumble with his armor. Amused you watched as he clumsily pulled it off with a sense of urgency. Now Laios was not the type of person to hyperfixate on his body. He never really put in the time to debate whether he was handsome or not. His mind was always preoccupied with monsters, food, dungeons, and only recently you. But now that you were in front of him, waiting and watching, he felt the ugly sensation of insecurity make its way into his mind. Maybe you would take one look at his body and wish you were with someone more toned and ripped. He wasn't the skinniest guy, and for the first time ever he didn't like that. 

You noticed he was hesitating with removing his shirt and it honestly broke your heart. So you approached him and placed your hands on either side of his cheeks, squishing the fat causing his face to contort into an adorable little pout. “We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with love,” you gave him a little peck on his pouty lips, ”But trust me when I say I love you. ALL of you. Including your body.” 

Oh…you were not real. That's all Laios could think. How on earth was there such a perfect person? An actual Goddess walking amongst mere mortals like him. How did someone as perfect as you fall for someone as strange as him? He didn't notice it but his eyes started to sparkle with unshed tears. For so long he's been alienated from this type of affection. Something he didn't know was bothering him deep down inside until he finally got it from you. 

He swore right then and there he would do anything to make you feel good. If you were a goddess then he was your most loyal worshiper. He finally removed his undershirt and stood before you bare chested. Before you had time to admire him he kneeled at your feet. “Laios? What are you doing?” 

“(y/n)...” He lifted your right foot and placed gentle kisses on it, “I'm going to show you just how much I love you.” 

Your words died in your throat as you watched him begin to trail his kisses from your foot to your ankle, and from your ankle to your leg. Every time his lips made contact with your skin your core pulsed with desire. His eyes never breaking contact with yours. Mentally imprinting your cute expressions and sounds into his mind forever. Finally he arrived at your inner thigh, its plushness making his dick twitch with excitement. If he wasn't so far gone he would've been a little embarrassed. But just a little.

He tried, he really did try, to control his impulses and not bite that delicious plush skin. But alas he was still a man, and you were so cute, so so cute. You jolted and gripped his hair when you felt his blunt teeth push down on your thigh, it hurt, but it felt so right. This continued on for a while before you started to lose your patience. You needed to be touched and he was taking too long, ignoring the most sensitive part of you. Bucking your hips you anchored his face to your core and held him there with your grip on his hair, not missing the moan he let out at your sudden dominance. “Then stop teasing and show me just how much you love me.”

His hands gripped your hips and he pressed his nose in between your folds, fuck you smelled so good. He was inexperienced with pussy but he was a professional eater, so he let his instincts take over. Pushing your underwear down he wasted no time connecting his tongue to your sensitive folds. He began by lapping up your delicious juices, immediately trying to guess what the flavor resembled. It was a bit tangy but somehow had a little bit of sweetness to it. He wondered if the food you had eaten today affected its taste, specifically the candy they had made with the dungeon spirits. This only made his cock impossibly more hard, already planning on tasting your delicious pussy every night after a good meal just to see how much it affected the way you tasted. Fuck was he in deep. 

Wanting to get a better taste he searched for your hole and once he located it he wasted no time pushing his tongue inside, fucking you with it. You began to roll your hips on his face, trying to meet the pace of his tongue. Your freed one of your hands from its deathly grip on his hair and moved it towards your clit. As good as Laios was making you feel, you needed a little more stimulation. This of course was not missed by him. 

Separating from your core with an obscene pop, he looked up at you, his mouth, chin, and even his nose glistening with your juices. “Please (y/n), teach me where to touch you.” 

Oh you were much deeper than him. But how could you not be?

Pushing yourself off the wall you were previously leaning on for stability you decided to lay down. Spreading your legs you used your hands to spread your pussy for Laios to observe. “This right here is called the clit, this is the most sensitive area.” He nodded along with extreme enthusiasm. Typical Laios you thought.

“You can rub it, lick, or suck on it.” You then inserted two fingers into your wet hole. “You already know what this is, but if you finger me here while licking my pussy-” a small whine managed to escape your lips, “You'll make me cum in no time baby.”

This brings us to where this originally started. With you writhing and moaning against the harsh dungeon floor as Laios abused your swollen pussy in every which way. So lost into your pleasure you couldn't even tell what was his tongue and what was his fingers anymore. Meanwhile Laios was having the time of his life in between your legs. While he was pleasuring your cunt, savoring, sucking, lapping, and overall devouring you, his hips bucked into the floor, chasing his own release. He could cum just by eating you out. 

You felt your legs begin to shake involuntarily, and you knew what this meant. “Laois! Im- Im-!” 

He knew exactly what you were trying to say by the way your legs began to grip his head “Mmph, cum for me baby.” 

He flattened his tongue on your clit and began bobbing his head side to side as fast as he could, occasionally stopping to suck on it with fervor. Meanwhile his fingers were pistoning your hole, curling inside to find your sweet spot. A sudden hot flash of pleasure completely took over your body and you couldn't contain yourself from gushing your orgasm all over his face. You swore you saw white as you let out your release. 

Laios felt so good he could cry. Your taste, your moans, your pussy, your everything was too overwhelming. He wanted more and at the same time couldn't handle it. With one last buck to the floor he felt his own searing release take over his body. Cumming in his underwear the vibrations of his own moan electrifying your cunt. 

After a few moments of you both catching your breaths and riding out your orgasms in bliss the reality of where you were hit you both like a ton of bricks.

Oops. 

You prayed the rest of your party members were too distracted with their own chores to have heard the sinful indulgences you and Laios participated in. In the middle of the dungeon no less. Oh well, you were too content with the man who was currently laying on top of you to really care. Unfortunately you knew that they would eventually come looking for the two of you if you took too long to return. Patting his back you pushed your body off the ground with your forearm and placed a gentle kiss on his head. 

Moving his head to look into your eyes he let out a gentle sigh. Clearly not ready to let go and head back just yet. He pressed a few kisses into your neck and hugged you tightly. He finally had you. Giggling you proceeded to sit up all the way and grabbed his face to attack him with kisses. Once you landed on his lips you noticed how you could taste yourself against him. 

“GUYS! WHERE ARE YOU?!” That was definitely Marcille. 

FUCK!

You both quickly scrambled to your feet and frantically searched for your discarded clothing, almost painfully pulling it on your bodies. Neither one of you had time to wipe down which caused you both to cringe a little. But that was better than being caught in such an intimate position by someone you both respected and cared about. Plus the embarrassment you would feel later would surely keep you up for nights on end. 

You quickly turned to Laios and without thinking ran your hands through his hair in an attempt to make it look presentable. If you weren't so focused you wouldn't have missed the pure look of awe and admiration he held for you at that moment. 

“There you are! We were beginning to get worried.” turning the corner, Marcille stood with a hand against her chest, letting out a deep sigh. 

“Huh what happened to you guys! You look like you just ran a marathon or something! Did you encounter any monsters?!” 

At the mention of monsters Laios quickly spoke up and formulated a very abstract lie about you and him getting chased by some creature. You honestly couldn't focus much on what he was saying, just being grateful that your man had all the knowledge in the world about monsters to create a believable story. Grabbing his hand you squeezed it. A wordless gesture that meant the world to the both of you. 

Now you wondered, when you were going to be able to return the favor to him.

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

AN: Hello!!! Thanks for reading this very self indulgent fic I wrote at my very adult job LOL. In case you couldn't tell this man has me in a chokehold. This is my very first time posting my writing and my first time writing a "x reader" fic. So I apologize if it feels a lil ooc at times.

I think I'd like to continue writing for Dungeon Meshi and possibly for other fandoms, so if you guys have any requests my inbox is always open. :3

[anantaru]

BONUS KINK — BODY WORSHIP

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

a/n. the last bonus kink is about them worshipping you just the way you deserve <3 and thank you for supporting this year's kinktober, enjoy <3

𖧡 — including — diluc, zhongli, childe, alhaitham

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, all about how much they love your body and putting your pleasure first, very passionate & rough, oral (fem! receiving), fingering

𖧡 — DILUC

the closer diluc got to his mansion, the more he realized that he had missed you this entire day— and he desires you with every inch of his being, in a special way that wasn't temporary but made him believe that love wasn't a hoax after all, and that he wasn't hard to love either, because you made him feel again.

the idea of losing you could truly ruin him.

and sometimes he catches himself become embarrassingly jealous of the glinting sun rays being eminent in the sky, for they can kiss you whenever he cannot.

a primal rush of pleasure shivers through him when he first places both hands on top of your hips, waiting for a moment and dwelling on your warm frame diffusing the stiffness of abused muscles located around his shoulders and chest as he absorbs the vibrations of your tranquil mewls into his aching body.

"i missed you, diluc," you say, "so much," before teasing his shaft with your walls and constricting ever so wonderfully, remembering the shape of his length as you wince at the additional pressure his cock sent straight into your core, clenching your muscles rhythmically that the rest of his body would shiver whilst pressed against your own, your facial expression continuously satisfied with the treatment he always gave you.

diluc clears his throat and attempts to hide the scarlet redness manifesting on his bristling cheeks, "i missed you," he whispers and emphasizes the last word with an octave higher, "been thinking about you all day," before lapping wet streaks over the areas on your neck that he knew were the most sensitive, it was the combination of one bite and a possessive huff on the wet flesh that made you whimper softly on the next thrust— not to forget that your body was simply divine to the red haired, each curve and bend reacting when he pumps you full of his cock, letting it glide smoothy in and out of your warm hole as you moan out his name, your face ecstatic with release.

you knew you wouldn't last very long, and as you continued to be fucked with diluc's precise thrusts consisting of long, slow movements, you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach, your throbbing cunt hot and tight sealed around his shaft as it took every ounce of restraint for diluc to not just cum and release his seed to pulse in hot rivulets on your inflamed walls.

it's almost too much to bear— but alas, that was what diluc craved, and even if he didn't say anything too directly or would admit it to you, he's been secretly hard and painfully throbbing for the majority of his day that consisted of nothing but work on top of work, his pulsing erection unbearably hard and rubbing against the rough confines of his pants as he day dreamed about his current reality.

alas, he was able to feel this now, feel you now— turning it evident that he wanted to please you more than anything else, even if just for a split second.

𖧡 — ZHONGLI

lowermost the brilliant stars ablaze within the moonlight sky and a chilling draft welcoming your frames, zhongli made love to you in an unforgettable matter— and the man has found himself wholly entranced by the fullness of your beauty.

you look up at him in a daze, and your eyes were the first out of many things that drew him into complete obsession, your sultry, lowered gaze in particular— the type that appeared to be seductive without trying as he grabs your knees and hoists them over his shoulders, the new position allowing him to lean forward enough to place a passionate kiss to your dampened forehead before pushing himself deeper. 

an icy chill shoots like a cold lightning down his spine when you  exhale tremulously once he was fully inside, a proud smirk represented on his darling lips as he found himself pleased by your reactions.

the atmosphere manifests in a sensual tone, tenser, and your heart beat was pounding so fast and loud that it almost entirely dulled out the penetrative sound of your hips bucking against each other in quick, sloppy slaps. your mouth panting and eyes squeezed shut with every new meet of his cock rolling inside of your walls, your arousal sticking to his shaft and marking him sinfully— it's like those sweet traces and his hips bouncing in a steady pace ignited something inside you, your figure melting from heat when zhongli touches the very depths of you.

zhongli groaned inwardly, and by his very nature, seeing you mewl and sob, with your hips swirling up and down his cock to handle more of him, such submission was almost too erotic, and his body responds in a feral perception, his length mapping through every rill and spongy spot that his low eyes and long lashes look down on you with twisting lust, your thighs shifting against each other as his hips rock back and forth against the softness and the feeling of just how good you felt. 

𖧡 — CHILDE

"you drive me insane," for a moment, childe let his gaze follow over the soft, glimmering skin on your sensitivity, his eyes lingering on the way your cunt was practically awaiting to be claimed by him— your face contorting in pleasure when he lastly, presses a soft kiss to the pulse point on your clit, licking inside and dipping his head lower.

suckling gently, you writhe and mewl under him, your back arching up a little for an extra amount of contact from his tongue as one large hand skims over the expanse of your chest, palming over your breasts while the other prods at your hole as childe coats his chin and cheeks with a generous amount of your arousal.

"you're perfect," he mutters into your flesh, every nerve in your body quivering when he put you into the deepest sensations of euphoria— a trance of which you do not wish to be freed from, and neither does childe want to stop pleasuring you, on top of being allowed to taste your beauty on his tongue, losing all his strength as he fell head first again, just like he always did whenever he admired what was his.

he lightly traces around the tight opening, fluttering his eyes up to your face before sliding one finger inside, immediately feeling you tense down, then moan out angelically when he scissors you lightly, his tongue leisurely lapping out the very surface of your glistening folds while he keeps a steady pump on your hole, continuing his careful ministrations and pressing his digit deeper, always more, and maintaining the pleasurable torture until you would whimper at him, only the slightest bit desperate, at least that's what you believed it looked like.

you clench your jaw to brace yourself, whimpering softly at each press of his fingers hitting your sweet spots almost a little too good, the next pleasured mewl escaping your aching throat when childe seals his lips on top of your clit before trapping the tingling skin in between his mouth, sucking gently.

"ajax.." you hiss softly, "need to feel you," as he repeatedly enters you with his slender digit, the stimulation overflowing your lower area as an intense burning sensation settles on your wet sex, deliciously limiting your noises so that you're hiccuping in shattered words and phrases.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

"you are deliberately provoking me," there wasn't a realistic possibility for you to keep something hidden from alhaitham, and he observes you thoughtful and stoic, a devious glimmer creasing around his eyes when he pins your wrists above your head, watching your clouded expression contort in pleasure as if you wanted this to happen.

he holds you down effortlessly, and while in any other case, alhaitham wouldn't let you play him like a violin, he cannot help himself but think about how lucky he truly was— or, how utterly enchanting your figure looked even while squeezed underneath his larger one.

to know that you had this power over him was dangerous, to know that he needs you like air to breathe was lecherous, or to know that the pleasure you placed on him concealed his vision with no doubts in his mind.

momentarily, he resists the flourishing desire to pay you back with skilled teasing and a robbed orgasm when he softly soothes one palm over the curve of your trembling body and stifling a groan in his throat when he slides his tip into you, the chaste downward flutter of his long, pretty eyelashes contrasting the strong set of his jaw clenching the second he tastes the hotness of your sex engulfing him.

you take him like he was begging you to, his biceps flexing enticingly as he braces himself up for what's to come when he crowds you with his inches in slow, tantalizing movements, the hot edges of your mewls burning violently through alhaitham's lust as he moans deeply, pushing into you with a hard buck of his hips reaching your softest spots.

you shudder, a harsh bolt of heat shooting through your tensed muscles as you clench your thighs around his hips, your hands wiggling underneath his palm that were keeping them pinned as you arch your back off the mattress, unable to take control of the passion infused jolts yearning for his searing touch as his rigid cock sinks hard enough to sting with a mild pain into you that evidently enough made you unravel into a trembling, dazed mess of a person.

"fuck, ahh," the pitch of your needy moans and whines manifest into crushed tunes with each convulsing thrust into your heat twisting you apart, shuddering and spattering all aver his length as you coat him with your arousal, the liquid rush of intense thrusts hitting you from nowhere as alhaitham throws his head back in ecstasy, releasing your hands from his grasp to fuck you deeper, so you're on the brink of splitting in half from the sheer intensity.

your hands find the softness of his hair as you merely wince at him, absorbed in your own pleasure and reveling on those sweet and personal caresses that felt like his skin was fusing with your own.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[peachysunrize]

Devil’s Doll ⥃ Mob boss!Aemond

Summary: no one can do anything when Aemond Targaryen sets his eye on a sweet girl and comes to the party with her on his arms, and those who dare to say an ill word will face his wrath with a bullet in their head.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, possessive & obsessive Aemond, mob/mafia au! Murder, creampie, Aemond is a sociopath simp for you, blood & gore, oral (F! Receiving), rough sex, Qoren Martell is an ass here, self defense murder, ztell me if I’ve missed anything. English isn’t my first language so if you’re not okay with that, simply ignore this post. if you don't wanna read dark content, block rue:darkcontent <3

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: babeeees! Hello and welcome back to another unhinged smutty one shot I have written! Hope this satisfies your needs for possessive Aemond🤭 please reblog and comment, it’s most appreciated🩷

A very special thank you to @targaryen-dynasty for beta-ing this piece!🩷🫂

In the world of crimes, Aemond Targaryen’s name is enough to make men shiver in fear. The ruthless nature of him has been the subject of many late-night stories in the past few years in the filthy streets of King’s Landing and beyond.

The one-eyed prince they call him. The infamous second son of Viserys the Coward has built an empire solely around one thing; blood and vengeance. 

After the murder of his fiance at the hands of his uncle, he became an untamed beast, bloodthirsty and hungry for revenge to the point that he became the god in the eyes of many — he wiped the streets off any man from his sister’s clan, ruled on the ashes of their bones and burnt flesh.

He thrived in the newfound power, he cherished it and greedily took more and more until there was nothing left more to take. Aemond Targaryen became the head of his clan with his loyal followers doing anything to please him and keep their heads attached to their necks.

So when he finds a new sweet girl at the local coffee shop he frequents, his emotions begin to cloud his judgment or heighten it in a way.

It starts innocently; a black coffee with dark chocolate on a daily basis, a sweet smile, and ‘Have a nice day, sir!’ Always ready for him. 

Sweet girl, he calls you when you bring him his order and brushes his fingers atop yours when you lean down to put his coffee on the table.

He looks, he observes, and he obsesses over your every move, every step you take, every inhale and exhale. He likes watching you.

The ruthless god of the criminal world has set his eye on his new prey.

You notice him, of course you do, because he wants you to know about him, he wants you to be as interested in him as he is in you. He loves how your lips move when you question his motives; sweet girl he calls you again, telling you how beautiful you look when you work and how he desperately wishes he could take you out on a date. But he can’t, not when his enemies are behind the corner, ready to strike where he is weak.

Yes, you are his weakness, and the one-eye god isn’t used to it, but for you… oh for you he would murder, he would let his bloodlust get the best of him and commit a massacre just to see a glimpse of your smile.

He catches you crying in the corner of the cafe, mouth agape as you stare at the man who was supposed to be your date for today, lying limp and lifeless with a bullet in his head.

Sweet girl, he calls you as he brushes your hair out of your face, you look like a doll, his doll, and oh, in the pit of your stomach you feel a strange warmth because of his heated gaze. He is smiling, he shouldn’t but he is, and you smile back, captivated by his nature, by his cruelty and devotion.

It feels like fresh air when you reach out to caress his dimples, how he has dreamed of your soft skin on his. The touch only makes him hungrier, a desire, a need to make you his, and he does that night. He takes you to your small apartment, giving you a pleasure like no other while you cling to him — sweet girl, my doll, he calls you, vowing in his head to protect you, and when he asks you why you do not feel disgusted by what he has done to that man, you reply:

“I’m sick of heroes. They ruin their loved ones to keep others safe. But a villain, my devil, you, will burn the city without letting a flame touch my skin.”

He is like your shadow from that day; following you around in the dark without you noticing, keeping his business up while he focuses on you. Sweet girl, he thinks, how you smile at those unworthy people, your smile should be his and his only.

The news spreads like fire; Aemond Targaryen has found a new plaything. As soon as those words fall from one of his men, others gasp and shriek, staring at the poor man’s head that has a hole carved with Aemond’s bullet.

Plaything they say, he scoffs at the thought. You are no plaything for him, you are his sun, his moon, the air to his lungs, you are fuel for his soul, and he wishes he could burn under you to show you how much you mean to him, to crumble into pieces and let you stomp over him while he basks in the glow of your face.

You are his doll, The Devil’s doll.

He knows how dangerous his world is, he understands it perfectly, and that’s why he nearly loses himself when he finds the door to your apartment ajar with muddy footprints leading to your bedroom.

He sees red when the scent of iron hits his nose; blood, he thinks. What has happened to you? He has never felt such a strong emotion before, not for his fiance or even his sister. Now, he is shaking with fury, his knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping the gun.

You leap into his arm as soon as you spot him in the doorway, letting the knife fall from your hands while you push yourself to him, clutching his shoulders while you sob.

He sighs in relief, holding you in his arms tighter than he has ever done before. You’re alright, his sweet girl, his doll. He listens to you intently, wiping off the tears that fall from your gorgeous eyes gently, oh you look just like a dream come true; your dress is covered in blood, a man you killed for defense lying on the floor beneath his boot.

He has never been more proud of anyone than he is of you.

He wants to show you off to the world, sick of all the hiding and lies behind the rumors spread by Rhaenyra’s clan. He needs to let everyone know how beautiful his doll is, and what a goddess he has in his arms.

He helps you get ready, keeping his hands all over your body while you try to put some clothes on, giggling and indulging him as he kisses your bare shoulders, groaning at the sight of you in black and red.

“Sweet girl, I have to be the luckiest man alive to have you as mine.” He whispers in your ear, eye narrow as he takes you in again, thinking about how he could be graced by your presence.

“And I the luckiest girl, my love. You make me feel so happy,” you reply, spraying your perfume on your neck and collarbones, and Aemond nearly moans as he takes your scent in.

“Fuck, you have to be a sorceress, I am bewitched by your beauty and smile. What have you done to me, doll? What spell have you put me under?” He attacks your neck with kisses, relishing in the small giggle you gift him.

“I’ve poured a potion in your coffee every day, to make sure your eye only sees me and no other girl.” You joke, turning around in his arms to give him a soft peck on the lips, mindful of your lipstick to leave no trace on his clean-shaven face.

“Don’t give me ideas, doll. I might do it just to keep you all to myself.” He grins, his dimples on display for you to kiss them, chuckling as you try to wipe the red stains off his face.

“Oh, I would love that. Please do, my love,” you match his smile, lopping your arms around his neck, “now, let’s go to this party. The sooner we go, the sooner we can leave and have our fun.”

“Anything for you, sweet girl.” He says, offering you his arm as you both walk towards the door, Aemond helping you down while you hold the long skirt of your dress in your hand, taking cautious steps to the car.

Criston nods at both of you and opens the door, waiting until the two of you are settled inside the car before he gets in himself and starts driving to the location.

Aemond was reluctant to attend this party, after all, it was hosted by one of the clans that were loyal to his sister, but his grandfather convinced him to go with Aegon and Daeron, but he declined and said he’d rather go alone with his doll.

You smile at him, caressing his ring-clattered fingers that are caressing your thigh gently, talking with Cole about what is expected of tonight; murder for sure, but he would rather not get caught up in the whirlwind of hatred he has for his sister and uncle, and most importantly, he needs to keep you safe from all the eyes of those hungry men.

The ride to the mansion is quick, and a sense of dread fills the two of you when your eyes meet. Aemond presses a kiss to your forehead to both calm himself and you before the car comes to a stop and he steps out, coming to your side and holding your hand to help you on your feet.

The moment you step inside the house, you are greeted by various couples, men, women, and people that you have no idea about. You keep your head high, squeezing Aemond’s arm as the two of you hide your discomfort behind a smile while everyone keeps staring at you.

“Targaryen,” someone calls Aemond behind you, “you honored me with coming tonight!” You both turn around, finding Mr. Tyrell and his wife and oldest daughter waiting to greet you.

“The honor is mine, sir,” Aemond shakes his hand, reaching to press a kiss to Mrs. Tyrell’s hand, “thank you for having us tonight. Let me introduce you to my girl,” he puts his large palm on your waist, gently pulling you closer to him as you shake and greet your hosts.

“You certainly have won yourself a prize, Aemond.”

“No prize is as beautiful as she is, I’m afraid.” Your lover says, pinching your waist playfully away from the eyes of the attendees, looking at you with nothing but adoration and unconditional devotion.

“You’re too kind, my love,” you smile, “Lady Tyrell, I would love to get to know you more.” Aemond nods at you gratefully, glad that he has discussed his plans for the party with you.

Aemond watches you being led away by the ladies, letting the smile fall from his lips as he gazes back at Tyrell himself, “I hope you have good reasons for wasting my time here.”

“I do, Mr. Targaryen. I wish to introduce you to Prince Martell from Dorne.” Tyrell says, pointing at a group of men who’re talking intensely. As soon as the two of them approach the group, they grow silent, waiting for Aemond to say something — their silence could be because of two things, either they respect him, or they’re terrified of him.

He hoped it was the latter, for with fear there comes blind respect and loyalty.

“Ah, Targaryen,” Prince Qoren Martell says, reaching to shake Aemond’s hand, “how wonderful to finally meet the One-Eyed God of the underground. Made yourself quite the name, huh?” Qoren smirks, already sensing how his words irritate Aemond.

Aemond shakes his hand back, tightening the hold he has on him, a ghost of a sinister smile forms on his face while he stares at the Dornish man with his indigo eye.

“Can’t say the same about you, Prince Qoren. What have you been doing all this time, not ruining the South, I hope?”

“You’re funny,” Qoren laughs, tapping Aemond on the shoulder, “Ah, I missed someone who’d challenged me over stupid things, kind of feels good to have a kid like you around.”

“Mind your words, Martell. He is no ordinary man, these silly little challenges will be the least of your concerns if he decides you’re not worth his time.” Barros Baratheon, ever the loyal dog of Aemond, speaks up, standing tall and proud next to him.

“Pft, please, I’m sure he knows I’m joking!” Qoren laughs nervously this time, “but… I don’t think your man isn’t doing great nowadays huh?”

“What do you mean?” Aemond asks, slapping Qoren’s hand away, “I wonder what has been said that makes you so full of yourself.”

“I don’t need to say a thing, look, your pretty plaything is coming,” Martell smirks as he eyes you up, watching the sway of your hips as you walk shyly towards Aemond, feeling a bit out of place due to all the looks on you.

“Eyes on me, Martell,” Aemond says through gritted teeth, anger swimming in his good eye as he watches the Dornish man look at you intently.

“Aemond…” he turns around at the sound of your voice, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Sweet girl—“

“Ah, it’s truly a shame that a beautiful girl like you wouldn’t reach anywhere with being a side chick for a Targaryen.” A deadly silence falls on the group, Aemond with his ever-rising temper looks at Qoren who hasn’t realized what he has truly said.

“Elaborate, Martell.” He hisses, reaching to pull you closer to him, covering your body mostly with his.

“You need a lady sooner or later, I doubt a woman from her status would be a good choice of a wife for you. You need someone stronger, with more connections, and a mind as sharp as you, not just a pretty whore to keep your bed warm,” Qoren shrugs, and a few men from his side laugh and agree with him.

Aemond presses his lips into a thin line, his fingers twitching in anger as he gazes at Qoren; he looks murderous, ready to pull his gun out and empty a bullet in that useless head of his — but he’s stopped by the sound of your sniffing.

He looks at you, his features softening immediately when he sees your teary eyes. He feels as if he’s about to die with a dagger in his good eye; the look on your face hurts him, burns his heart, and tears it into pieces. The string you’ve wrapped around him tightens and tightens until he cradles your smaller face in his hand, pressing a sweet kiss to your quivering lips before his eye turn black with madness.

He pushes you behind him, and in a second, the hall is filled with screams and shrieks of horror and bullets flying around, bodies of the men who dared to disrespect Aemond’s doll are falling on the floor next to his shoes one by one.

He feels you bury your head in his blazer, gasping at the sound of yet another bullet firing into someone’s head. Aemond doesn’t blink, not even once. His blood is pumping with the urge to showcase how much he’s willing to do to keep his sweet girl happy and content.

“Let this be a reminder to all of you,” his voice echoes in the hall, “whoever dares to say anything about my girl will face the same fate; death! Aemond Targaryen will go to a fucking war for his future wife!” With that, he holds his gun upwards to the ceiling, firing not one, not two, but nearly six bullets to make sure the hall is empty besides the corpses and the two of you.

“Aemond…”

“Shh,” he shushes you roughly, pressing his lips into a searing kiss to yours, groaning at the sweet taste of your lips. He adores losing himself in you; in your taste, in your scent, in every ounce of attention you give him. He feels blessed to even breathe the same air as you, but kissing you… his heart stops every time his lips meet yours, and now, with adrenaline and anger swirling in his veins, he wants nothing but to show you his devotion — even if it comes out as a rough fucking session while staring at the men he killed for you.

His trimmed nails dig into your sides, groaning at the feeling of you melting beneath his rough touch. Aemond is a man possessed with how he handles you, strong and confident while he finds the closest table and finally breaks the kiss.

He watches how your chest heaves with ragged breaths, lips swollen, and eyes wide and hazy with lust — the perfect picture of a goddess that he has been graced with.

He turns you around, pushing you on the table until you’re bending over, looking directly at the limp bodies on the floor drowning in their own blood. He hums as his fingers caress your spine before he strikes you on your ass, humming at the feeling of the weight of your flesh under his hand. 

He doesn’t have the will to wait anymore. He drops on his knees, pushing your dress up to your hips until he’s face to face with your bare pussy; wet and ready to be devoured. 

“Good girl,” he praises you for listening to him when he asked you earlier to not wear any underwear, “The most gorgeous cunt I’ve ever seen, prettiest girl, my doll.” He’s already drunk on your essence without even tasting it, that’s how much he adores you.

He moans at the same time as you do when he finally dives in, wrapping his thin lips around your buzzing clit as he devours and eats like a starved dog, caging your hips while he takes and takes and takes from you.

There’s not a thought in his head, empty and filled with nothing but an urge to show you how eager he is to please and protect you, your loyal dog he calls himself.

The One-Eyed God crumbles for a simple barista girl, and not a single soul dares to say a word, for if they say, they’ll experience his rage.

Aemond is quick and messy with how his tongue laps up your wetness, creating lewd sounds that have both of your hearts racing. His fingers join his tongue, filling you up slightly and giving you the friction you need, but you know him, the only way you can come is on his cock.

You whine in agony as he leaves you aching for more as soon as he feels you getting closer, but he doesn’t leave you waiting for too long. The sound of his zipper brings back your attention to him, and he chuckles in delight when he sees you wiggling yourself back to get some friction, to end this torture and gives into the temptation.

And he does; he aligns his painfully hard cock with your soaked entrance, pushing himself in with one smooth thrust that knocks the breath out of your lungs.

Long is gone the man he was a few seconds ago; he is on a mission now, fucking you until you tremble and fall from the edge of bliss, knowing it’s him pleasuring you, it’s him who will burn this blasted city for you.

“Oh, sweet girl, I’ll kill thousands of men if it means I get to be inside this sweet pussy—fuck-“ he groans, hands finding home on your hipbones as he quickens his pace, driving his cock in and out. Hard and fast.

The squelching sound that your wetness is making embarrasses you, and you hide your face in your arms while you squeal his name over and over again.

Your Devil has grown like ivy around your heart, covering the last untouched part of your souls that he had left untouched, and you love it, love being consumed by him.

He bends down over your back, hips snapping into yours roughly, filling you up with his length as the thick tip of him kisses your cervix while his teeth sink into your bare shoulder.

“Do you see the lengths I would go to protect you, sweet girl?” He whispers in your ear, licking your tear away with the tip of his tongue, “I will commit unspeakable crimes just to have you by my side.”

You nod at him, looping your arm around his neck to bring him down, and he compiles, bending further on your back to kiss you roughly.

Both of you are close; the knot in your stomach gets unbearable until it snaps and you moan loudly in his mouth, gushing around him as your legs shake.

He follows closely; his cock throbs deep within your core, and with one final rough thrust, he empties his balls inside you, coating your velvety walls with his thick cum, marking you as his once more.

You glance back at the corpses, smiling devilishly at how Qoren Martell’s empty eyes are still on you.

“Sweet girl,” Aemond says, “you’re untouchable now. Targaryen clan is yours to rule.”

[mdsbabygirl]

Date night with Mikage Reo

Pairing: Mikage Reo x FEM!reader

Wc: 1,4 k

Cw: Mikage spoils you rotten, reader is really spoiled, horny sex, eating out, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, marking, Reo is rather needy, nipple play, pet names (love, angel, sweetheart, sweetie...), reader is kinda chubby.. idk, (tell me if there's anything missing)..

Note: once again, not proofread, notify me for any mistakes

Note two: feel free to send me requests of any character you want(bllk or TR), or inspos for future fics

Reo who tells you to wear something pretty, and do your makeup, cuz he's taking you out. He wants to spoil you and make you feel good, so a date night at a surprise location would do the trick.

Reo whose jaw drops when he sees you step outta the room, looking so gorgeous in that lovely dress. It really hugged your curves perfectly, further enhancing your form. "Wow.. you look amazing sweetheart!" He said in amazement, as he approached you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you closer to him. "Well you don't look bad yourself!" You chuckle, pressing a light kiss on his tender lips. "Well, never as good as you!" He exclaimed, before he gently guided you out of your shared penthouse, to his luxury car, heading for your surprise destination.

Reo who can't stop chuckling at your failed attempts of guessing where he was taking you, his laughs echoing through the car. "Hahaha, sweetheart, it's neither of those places! It's some other place you don't know, but I'm sure that you'll love!" He spoke, as he put his hand on your thigh, massaging the soft flesh soothingly.

Reo who tells you to close your eyes before arriving, he wants this to a surprise. "C'mon love, trust me! I'll be worth it, I promise!" He said in a reassuring tone, glancing at you with his loving purple eyes, a soft smile splayed on his pretty face. "That's it baby, doing so good for me!" He praised you, his hand caressing your cheek tenderly, before he turned his attention to the road again.

Reo who gently guides out of the car, his big hand softly holding yours as he leads you to your surprise destination. "Ok now open your eyes my love!" He said in a sweet voice. "Omg Reo is this that Michelin-starred restaurant..." You gasp, a bright smile making its way on your face as you turn to hug your boyfriend who's very proud of himself for making you so happy.. "Yeah it is sweetheart! I remembered you said u wanted to try this place out, so I decided to make it a surprise for you!" He chuckled. "Reo, baby, this is the best surprise ever!!" You squeal, hugging him even tighter to which he laughs, "ok love, let's go inside now"

Reo who leads you to the private room he reserved. Holding the door open for you, pulling the seat for you, then kissing your knuckles ever so tenderly, Mikage treated you like a queen, "I want this night to be special love!" He said, his voice a bit deeper than usual, and his gaze darker than it was before.

Reo who starts flirting with you, pulling the moves on you, just to make you a flustered mess. "Mm, yk this food is tasty but not as you are love!" He'd say, his confident gaze igniting a few sparkles of excitement in you. "I'd eat you out all the damn time if I could!" He'd add, his husky voice and sultry glance making you hot and bothered.

Reo who rests his hand on your thigh, caressing your tender skin, as his hand creeps higher and higher, almost near your crotch. A smirk forms on his face as he notices your panting. "Oh, is everything ok love?" He'd teasingly ask, acting nonchalant as if nothing is happening. "Are you sure? Cuz you're breathing heavily!" He'd ask again, his long digits grazing your laced cunt. Wait laced?! Omg Reo didn't expect his sweetheart to wear lacy lingerie. "Well aren't you something sweetheart!"

Reo who's quick to drag you into a nearby hotel room, swiftly pulling you inside as he's aggressively making out w you, almost tripping over the candles laid on the floor, "what is this Reo?" You breathlessly ask, looking around the large room, that was decorated with candles and rose petals, creating a romantic atmosphere that was intensified by the vanilla scent lingering in the room.

"Haa.. yeah that .. I wanted to make something special for you since you've been so good to me. Wanted to take things slow and make it sensual yk, but.. since you decided to be a tease and put on that lacy lingerie, ig that slow sensual shit can go to hell!" He said, grabbing your wrist and pulling your body flush against his, his prominent boner pressing on your lower abdomen. "So now, com'ere and fuck me!" He said in a low growl before pulling you in for another heated kiss.

Reo who lays you onto the bed, and quickly undresses the both of you, gazing at your lacy set before aggressively ripping it off of you, his imminent need for your body, igniting a fire within him, turning him into a horny egoistic monster.

Reo who presses wet kisses to your feverish skin, his tongue licking up a strike on your neck, before he bites down, leaving a reddish mark, claiming you as his. "Now everybody will know you're mine!" He'd growl into your ear, his hot breath making you shiver.

Reo who would kiss his way down your body, stopping to pay some attention to your tits, suckling and twisting your nipples, leaving a few dark hickeys on the soft mounds, before moving lower.. Mikage finally nested his head in between your thighs, taking a good look at your wet sex. "Sweetheart you're so wet, fuck" he'd breath out, before spreading your folds with his long fingers, admiring the way your pussy clenches around nothing. "Oh angel, you're so needy!" He cooed, as he slid one of his digits inside, pumping his fingers in and out of your quivering hole.

Reo who slowly adds another finger, once he feels your hole has loosened up, his touch expertly toying with your sensitive, slick folds. The room was filled with squelching sounds and your moans. Mikage was very pleased with the effect he was having on you, but he wanted more.. so he curled his fingers upwards, hitting that sweet spot, making you see stars and moan his name aloud. "Ahhh.. Reo.. fuck, this feels so good!" You moaned, looking down at your bf who was entranced by the sight before him.. "this is just the beginning!" He whispered lowly before lowering his head to face your clenching pussy, his hot, damp tongue beginning to dance around your swollen, aching clit. 

Reo who makes your back arch involuntarily as he latches on your needy clit, suckling and licking your puffy nub. This delicate blend of his oral and finger-based ministrations, combined with the sight of his face buried between your legs, sends you towards an earth-shattering climax. Your pussy squeezing around his thick digits as your sweet juices ooze out of your throbbing hole.

Mikage who greedily drinks up every drop of your essence, licking his lips, and cleaning you up really well. "Now I think we can get started on the important stuff!" He said, his lust filled eyes, gazing at your shaky body. He quickly spread your legs for him, taking out his needy hardness, stroking it a few times before sliding it in.

Mikage who lets out the most pornographic moan once he feels your fluttering count squeeze around his girth, the intense feeling of your warm cunny almost making him cum. "Oh fuck.. yess, ahhh- it's.. fuck your pussy's amazing!" He groaned, his sexy voice igniting the lust in you.

Mikage who begins thrusting, his movements rough and unrelenting. The force of his thrusts, combined with your already aroused state, sent electric shocks through your bodies with each impact. Your hips met his with each stroke, making your lover moan louder and louder, sending him to the edge of ecstasy. "Fuck, love-nghh.. haaa, shit.. I'm close" he muttered through gritted teeth, his grip on your hips tightening.

Mikage whose thrusts grew faster, his urgency to reach his release was palpable. The frenzied rhythm of his body colliding with yours left no room for doubt, the intensity of your lovemaking reached a fever pitch.

Gasping for breath, the inevitable moment arrived. Reo let out a guttural moan, his hips jerking forward as his hot, sticky seed spurted inside your clenching, quivering womb. In turn, your own release crested, a deafening, wordless scream erupting from your throat as you were consumed by the explosive, mind-altering bliss of a climax.

Reo who collapsed in your arms, both of you struggling to catch your breath as your heartbeats steadily returned to their normal pace. The afterglow, a combo of contentment and satisfaction, enveloped you both as you cuddled each other. In this sacred space, the outside world ceased to exist. Reo brushed your damp hair away from your flushed face, his gentle caress showcasing his affection for you. You, in turn, nestled your head into the crook of his neck, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace.

©ᴍᴅꜱʙᴀʙʏɢɪʀʟ2024 ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ

[bitter-me]

Can you do Boothill with a male reader who has the abilities of Absolute Solver from murder drones

Male reader went missing after the ICP destroyed Boothill's homeland. Many years later, Boothill and the other met male reader but male reader already got possessed by the Solver

I want an angst with a happy ending story please

Absolute

Boothill | M. Reader as the Absolute Solver [Murder Drones]

----------

"The flesh demands invitation."

----------

"What are you doing all smiling like that?"

"Huh? Oh nothing."

[Name] narrowed his eyes at Boothill's words, not believing it. He says it was nothing, but his scans say otherwise. The other can't help but laugh at [Name] expression, those neon [Color] eyes that narrowed on his visor. "I was just thinking about what to get my daughter."

"I see, got any ideas yet?"

"I'm thinking..."

Without saying anything else, [Name]'s visor changes to that of a shopping list. "Well there are countless gifts you could get from across the galaxy so—"

"Wait wait wait!"

His visor glitches and goes back to normal. [Name] looked at Boothill for a second seemingly confused. What was that about?

"I want to make it special."

"Oohh.." [Name] blurred out as he finally understands. "If you're going to handmade it. I could help if you like."

"Heh, thanks [Name]."

For as long as he knows [Name], the robot is a kind person who's happy to help those in need. He was a joy. Everyone was. Everyone on his home planet was a joy, like a small neighborhood. Everyone gets along with one another, there's rarely any conflict it's just a nice and welcoming place. Home.

Therefore [Name] didn't deserve this, none of them deserved this. It's outrageous. What did they do? What kind of sin did they commit to have on this planet. Their home. Destroyed in such a way.

As Boothill look at the surrounding fire and destruction of his home, he began to search around the area. Any place he thinks people will be at. Anywhere.

There are at least survivors right? Surely there are some people who survived this.. who saw the attack an immediately run towards a safe place.. surely..

Right..?

But nothing..

Boothill find nothing but ashes and ruins of once someone's home.

Everything..

..is destroyed.

Why.. why does this have to happen? He was happy. They were happy! What did they do to deserve this?

SCREW THE IPC!!

----------

"Upgrading models? cutting maintenance costs? There are many reasons the client may wish to disassemble a drone individual or a series after a period of use. Following these two simple steps is key to avoid—"

"Incompletely disassemble drones may occasionally reboot from software death alone. More than undead federal fine hazards. Its corrupted AI carries an increased risk of future errors."

.

.

.

He stood there completely motionless. How is he supposed to react to that? After so many years...

Staying at the Express may be the best call for him. It's a free ride after all. Not to mention everyone is quite nice. Dan Heng was even willing to show him the Data Bank but...

This is one of them..? One of the information they've obtained during their travels? Don't get him wrong, it's useful, incredibly useful. But... if Boothill were to obtain such knowledge long ago..

He would have properly disassembled him.

To prevent such a fate from happening to someone he holds in high regards. If he were to do that... none of this would have happened!!

He—it screeches as it tries to get out of its restraints. That's not him. That's not [Name]!!

This was just another planet. One where the Nameless has set their sights on. They thought it was just another Stellaron Crisis. But... this is not the work of a Stellaron.. but the work of a drone that's not been properly disassembled.

It continues to screech as the researchers expose the drone to the artificial sunlight. It screeches in pain and agony as the researchers run around, trying to put a stop to this... thing..

He can't watch this.. he can't watch this any longer.

Without saying another word Boothill leave the Cathedral to get some fresh air. He can't. He just can't watch that.. whatever they were doing to someone he cared for.

----------

"MacGuffin." The robotic voice echoes throughout an empty.. bloody.. ruined.. Cathedral.

Is this the type of thing the Nameless has to handle? Not the Absolute Solver no no... Fighting for your muddle fudgling life! Dodging an attack Boothill ready his revolver and shoot the claw-like thing.

It laughs at their attempts. It's six against one and yet they're losing how pathetic! "Thank you for the new host." It stated casually before narrowing avoiding an attach by Himeko's laser with a smirk on it's face the Solver summons it's claws once more and began it's onslaught of attacks. In a blink of an eye, all of them experience multiple near death situations left, right, and center. Fighting someone who can regenerate is cheating! They could be here for all of eternity!

Where's the cure!?

Its perpetual grin seems to widen every time any of them try to harm it which of course never worked as the Solver's regeneration rate is incredibly high. It laughs, summoning a miniature blackhole that was quickly disabled by Welt as he attack the Solver. "Have any of you find it get?" "No, we're still looking!" March replied, firing an arrow at one of it's claws while looking around for the crucifix that holds the data. The cure for the Solver. "Well I'm sorry, but fighting while searching is not easy!" Caelus cuts in, looking around the place as he ducks under the benches to avoid a stray attack. "Just focus on searching, we'll try to cover you!" Dan Heng stated firmly, using his powers as a  Vidyadhara to at least land a critical attack on the Solver.

With each attack the Solver just keep regenerating! But each time they themselves is inching closer to their own demise! Boothill took cover as he reload his bullets while looking at his surroundings for any potential threats. But something else caught his eye..

It's the crucifix!

Quickly taking it from the bloody floor, Boothill examine it for a moment, making sure it's the real deal. After a quick and swift examination, the usb connector pops out at the bottom of it. It's real alright. The cure for the Solver and the key to ending this nightmare.

"Cover for me!" He signaled before making a run for it. The Nameless did their best to keep the Solver at bay until Boothill does the finishing blow and slammed the crucifix usb model straight into the drone's visor and just like clockwork it let out a glitched robotic groan as it tries to take out the crucifix and in its efforts the cure done it's job. Motionlessly throws crucifix away the drone immediately slump to the floor.

Looking amongst themselves, the Nameless stood their ground not knowing whether the fight is over or is the Solver playing tricks on them. With caution Boothill slowly approached his old friend. Surely he's still there right? The Solver is dead. The patch worked! It has to work! Or else it....

Kneeling in front of him Boothill extended his hand. Waiting for a respond from the other. Anything! Much to their surprise the drone took the other's hand, slowly looking up, revealing it's---no, his neon [Color] eyes on his visor while the crack where they inserted the patch is slowly being healed. Yes! It worked! Letting out a dry, pained laugh Boothill gave [Name] a tight embrace. He's back. His old friend's back.

[hopelessromantic5]

Merlin had been working for Arthur Pendragon for a year when something unusually strange happened.

This wasn’t “life-or-death-vengeful-magical-creature” strange. That happens every day.

No this oddity didn’t even involve Arthur.

The pompous prick had just left in storm of rage because Merlin was once again gone for days at a time and couldn’t give him a good enough answer as to where. Arthur knew Merlin was lying to him, and it was only a matter of time before the truth came to light, and Merlin’s life would be over.

He was still in Arthur’s chambers, in complete darkness. Body folded into a corner, with his arms wrapped around his knees that were being cradled by his chest.

He was sobbing.

Because life was so fucking unfair and he’s allowed to have a pity-party every once in a while. Merlin would say he’s entitled.

His sobs broke off into silence when a single candle lit itself, barely illuminating the room.

Merlin’s head popped up, wide eyed.

There was no one else. Just him.

And that had not been his magic.

Merlin was on his feet and ready for whatever was being hurled their way, this time.

They appeared, out of thin air.

Or she did.

A woman. With blonde hair cascading over over her thin shoulders. A deep green gown, that was beautiful but not embellished or bejeweled. And her eyes were like lakes, blue and too deep to see to the bottom.

Merlin’s breath was snatched from his throat as they stared at each other.

“Do not be afraid. I am not here to harm you.” She said, her voice was soft and melodic, the way Merlin imagined goddesses would speak.

“Who are you?” He whispered, before correcting. “What are you?”

“You can sense that I am not human?”

Merlin nodded, then narrowed his eyes, trying to put it together, but not quite having all the pieces.

“Every living thing gives off a vibration of sorts…a frequency… you give off nothing. As if you’re-“

“A ghost.” She smiled small but it held a secret joke that Merlin didn’t understand.

“You’re a ghost?” He questioned, further confused. “How are you here? It’s not anywhere near Samhain.”

Then the blonde woman’s eyes turned sad. And she turned to the window looking out at the lightless sky.

“There are some special cases.” She murmured. Then snapped her eyes back to him.

“But that is not why I’m here.”

Merlin’s eyebrows went up in expectation.

The woman’s expression turned to something that Merlin had only ever seen from his mother and Gaius. A sort of pity that’s shrouded in love.

She advanced on him and then settled her hands on his shoulders. Upon closer inspection, he could see the way she wasn’t completely opaque, but he felt her hands as if they were solid, flesh and bone.

“I know who you are, Emrys.”

Merlin practically hissed at the name and began to back away towards the door of the chambers.

“What are you planning to do about it? Tell the king?” Merlin was panicked now. If Uther knew then there would be no chance of saving himself. Or of saving Arthur.

“Calm yourself, dear. That is the last place I would be headed even if I did plan to tell someone.”

Merlin stopped, whispering, consciously aware of the guards that will patrol this corridor at some point soon.

“So why are you here?”

“Because, Merlin, I want to thank you. I want you to know that all that you’ve suffered, all that you’ve sacrificed, has not been in vain.”

What? How could she possibly know…

“I have been here some time, Merlin. Unseen but always watching.” She smiled again. “This was the deal I made. I gladly gave my life if they agreed to let me watch him grow.”

Time froze.

And suddenly everything clicked into place for Merlin.

He audibly gasped.

“You…” he started shaking his head as if it were a hallucination brought by bad wine or mysterious herbs. “You’re her.”

He stared back into those eyes.

Those eyes he’d come to know on a different human. Eyes he’d come to love.

“Yes. I am. And I have been here with him, watching him struggle and learn. Make mistakes.”

She clutched him again by the shoulders.

“Merlin, I want to thank you for taking care of my son.”

He was shaking his head and stuttering incoherently, almost silently, trying to find words to express everything he feels every day.

“You-I-your son is…a great man. And he’s going to be a good King. A kind, just, King.”

She smirked again at him, probably knowing more than he did about everything.

And then her smile turned soft as she replied.

“The Once and Future King.”

Merlin nodded, feeling a little giddy himself at the idea. Arthur sitting atop the throne of Albion and ruling his people in an age of peace, until he turns old and grey. Trusting the next generation to take the reins.

Merlin chuckled a little.

“The gods couldn’t have picked anyone better suited.”

“He will need you, Merlin. Especially in what’s to come. But this is nothing you are not already aware of.” She had a very soft smile, genuine, not one harsh line on her whole face. “I’ve also appeared to you now to say, I think you should be truthful with him.” Merlin’s instincts almost caused him to recoil from her again, but he stilled his body, as she continued. “I see him when you are not here, when he is alone, when he’s with his father. The way that he communicates his feelings are hurtful and he has no clue how to work through them. I am sorry that Uther raised him that way.” Merlin watched transparent tears slide down her pale face. “But you help him. He’s getting better with himself, with others. You are the light in his life, he wants to do better because of you, the way you see him.”

Merlin was crying too. He couldn’t help it.

He didn’t think anyone ever knew what really went on inside this blasted castle, but someone was here, watching him fail and try and try again and succeed sometimes, and keep Arthur and Camelot safe and happy. Someone has been rooting for him the entire time, he was never really alone.

“Hold on. Would he be able to see you?” Merlin whispered cautiously. “Do you want him to?”

“I’m afraid that it’s a little more complicated for people without magic. I was able to appear before you now, because your guard was down while you were crying. Your mental and emotional barriers were lowered and I was allowed to reveal myself. For Arthur and I to talk, I would need a lot of magic and a lot of trust.” She reminded him so much of Arthur in the way she hid her melancholy behind a dazzling smile.

“But that is not the reason I think you should tell him. He might be frustrated at first, but he will be far less angry than he was moments ago. He trusts you and he knows there is something you are not telling him. I think you would both benefit from a little honesty, him just as much as you.” She smirked at the last comment.

Merlin cannot believe that he just got talked into revealing his magic by the Queen of Camelot.

This day is so strange.

Wait-

“What does that mean? What is it that Arthur is keeping from me?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and thought. He knew almost everything about the man. He could probably paint him blindfolded at this point, with every buckle and button in perfect place. He knew his sense of humor, his daily schedule by heart, he knew everything Arthur thought about everyone, and Arthur knew the same of him…almost.

Except for that one-okay, maybe two things.

Maybe Arthur had an exception also.

“You will have to be vulnerable in order to find the answer to your question.” It almost sounds like a riddle of Kilgarah’s but the Queen’s made a lot more sense to him than the Great Dragon’s usually did.

“When he returns, avoid cornering him in the room. He does not do well with-“ the lady cut herself off for the first time, somehow even ghosts were conflicted in their thoughts. Her face hardened, “Uther used tactics like this to intimidate Arthur when he was a boy being scolded. For absolutely nothing at all. For doing things that boys should be doing!” Her voice reached its loudest volume and she stumbled farther away from him, wide-eyed.

“I am so sorry, Merlin. I have not spoken to anyone in so long. I didn’t not mean to get angry.” Tears welled in her blue, blue eyes.

Merlin could not stand it.

“There is nothing to apologize for. You have every right to be angry. I am angry. Sometimes with destiny, or dragons, or evil unknown forces lurking in the dark. But always at Uther. For treating Arthur that way, like an animal raised for slaughter. And for never realizing how much it scarred him. And for never changing, or apologizing. Never once. He is not even human anymore.”

They stood there, locked into each other, sharing in their grief, in their pain for this boy that they love more than life.

And then they heard footsteps, both parties equally startled for different reasons.

“Good luck, Merlin.” Igraine was smiling softly again, as if it had never left, maybe that is what Arthur does for her. What he does for them both. Bring the color and joy back into the world like a breath of clean air. “You will do well.” She nodded, before starting to disappear, back into the invisible ether of the castle.

Then the door swung open to reveal Arthur, looking almost apologetic, but also scanning the room before landing his eyes back on Merlin.

“Who are you talking to?”

“No one. Myself.” Another lie. Shit.

This isn’t going well and he’s three words into it.

The prince opened his mouth as if to retort but Merlin stopped him confidently proclaiming,

“Arthur, I need to tell you something.” It was as though Merlin could feel a weight physically lifting off his shoulders as soon as the words left his mouth. “Quite a few things actually. I have not been honest with you. But I don’t want to keep secrets anymore.”

Arthur stood momentarily speechless, surprised at Merlin’s change of heart.

TBC…

[kneelingshadowsalome]

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

Word count: 6.4 k

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

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

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. Angst and smut and fluff (the holy trinity!) in this last part.

Part 1 Part 2

Juice spills all over the table from the oranges you press, but you don't mind. There has been a soft smile on your face all morning.

Simon's still sleeping, and you want to surprise him with a special breakfast today: scrambled eggs, freshly pressed orange juice, berries, and…

"You took my shirt."

You flinch when you hear his familiar rumble not a few feet away. The staircase wailed like a widow last night, but obviously, this man has learned to avoid the creaky spots when he wants. A goddamn heavyweight ninja...

"I'm sorry." You lick your fingers from the juice and try to feign innocence. The sleeves of his black tee reach your elbows, but you're not sorry. Nor do you feel bad about seeing him in your kitchen without a shirt.

"It was not an accusation," he says, the corner of his mouth curving a little, the dark eyes that made love to you last night giving you an approving once-over.

You approach him with a glass full of sun, but it's you he grabs in his hold. Your fingers find the scars on his back as you two embrace, and you feel an odd churn in your stomach.

"What's this…?"

Your hand floats across the embossed, white ridges that crisscross his back. The collection forms an entire mountain range, and it's chilling because you've only brushed the space between his shoulder blades.

"A reminder. To trust no one."

"No one…?"

"No one."

You remain a coward and refrain from asking for more details. You doubt he would even share them.

"I made you breakfast," you lower your gaze to the colorful palette you've gathered on the plates. Is it some sort of an instinct to want to feed a man after they've fucked you so good?

"So I see," he says, ever more approvingly. Then you're lifted on the table, next to the plates, like you're the breakfast.

Soon you're only wearing his shirt and your tiny socks, which Simon decides to leave on, too busy with getting his face between your legs. 

No one has done anything like that before… No one has chosen you over breakfast; an entire abundance of delicacies laid out. 

He licks you until your legs are trembling on that tortured back. You're pure, you're untouched by evil, and he carries your naivety on his shoulders like it weighs nothing. He flattens his tongue on you, sucks your flesh, tortures you on that table and doesn't even mind his teeth all too much. The peak stubble he hasn't yet shaved stings and burns as he moves across your folds. 

Saying that the coarse chin on your silk feels good would be an understatement. You come undone next to the breakfast, clad in golden light shining through the small window left uncovered.

You feel alive, and raw, and stellar. A shooting star, a comet high above the sky, although the space through which you ignite consists of golden rays of sunlight and the scent of orange juice. 

He takes the shirt back after he's done. After you're done and try your best to return back to earth with shaking legs. The only thing you're wearing is your socks, but you feel completely naked before him, dopey and dumb before the day has even started. Simon only licks his lips, throws that shirt on, and grabs his plate.

He dares to comment that there's no hot water. You put the kettle on with a wobble, feeling hotness on your cheeks while he sits down to eat his second breakfast like it's the most natural thing in the world: to wreck you first thing in the morning.

…............................

Simon.

He fixes the door on your fridge. He helps you clean your garage and fucks you on the table. Oily, dusty, filthy table. You go to shower after, together. You're giggling; he's smiling. Fully, now.

You want to ask him, Is this free of charge too…? Not just his cock... But his smiles. His assistance and support. The looks he grants you when you come out of the shower, ready to be licked to ruin.

He calls you his Princess to tease you just right. To get you in a state where your eyes flash with half-rage, half-lust, just before he slips inside you. He knows exactly which strings to pull – and then calls you love just when you're about to give him a piece of your mind.

You end up on the table, on the counter, on the floor. He takes you while your jaw slowly falls open from his audacity and his cock, splitting you apart with slow love. The first time he takes you in a missionary, you squirt. It's like his cock was made for you. And he dares to tease you about that, too.

"Did ya just squirt all over my cock?"

You have tears in your eyes, shame on your cheeks, and he's wetter than a wet dog down there… then he makes you squirt again, high on the lewd, obscene praise you just gave him with your pussy. 

Your cunt can't lie; he knows it by now. So it's futile to keep your lips sealed either.

Kiss me. 

That's what you would've usually ordered. But after an exceptionally quiet and passionate and desperate fuck that leaves you both catching your breath, leaves him hovering only inches from your sweaty upper lip, you whisper…

"I want to kiss you."

You expect him to laugh or mock you, at least crack a stupid joke or two. But he doesn't. Instead, his eyes drop to your lips, and he swallows with a heavy roll, then closes the gap between you two. Covers your mouth with his, uses that strong jaw to open you for devouring.

The kiss lasts long enough for you to begin breathing through your nose. Your inner walls grip him, still buried deep inside, and the gusts of exhales passing through his nostrils hit your face with pure bliss. He’s a little breathless when he parts – withdraws just enough to look into your eyes.

“Will that do...?”

There is a drunken vigor in his eyes of crushed amber, but to your shock, you hear your own question laid out before you. The one you asked when you were going to that party.

Will I do…?

Your hands find his jaw and cup his face from both sides, drawing him back to your lips.

“Yes." 

You will more than just do. 

And then you say… 

"I want more.”

He chuckles a soft scoff on your face. 

"Greedy little thing." 

Then he swallows you again. You kiss for a good few minutes while he grows half-hard inside you. It's the most romantic kiss you have shared with anyone, ever. He tells you how spoiled you are between the breaths you both catch, then spoils you some more with his mouth and tongue and cock. 

You start to curl together in the evening. Just to watch a comedy. He massages your feet and smiles more every day. It's kind of domestic, how he wrinkles his nose at your fine white wine and asks what it is in that decanter you have in your study. When you say it's just some old bourbon, he goes and gets himself a glass like he's finally made himself at home. 

It makes your heart grow thick from love. You almost forget why he's here in the first place.

When you ask him about the plan, he explains it to you in detail while kissing his way down your ribs and navel. He takes his sweet time while doing it, kissing the inside of your thigh, the hollow place below the knee, the tender skin under the knee. He kisses your calf and the ankle bone while holding your leg up for his lips with just one hand. Then he does the same to your other leg, but this time, kisses his way from ankle to thigh until he reaches…

You.

You've forgotten half the plan by then because you realize Simon hasn't looked at you like you're a steak or garbage in a long, long time. 

He looks at you like you're a queen. You could say he worships you, but the thought alone makes your heart flutter with the anxiety of a fragile hummingbird. 

Simon gets you your groceries and gets himself only a beer as a reward. You would happily offer him a case if you knew it would make him happy.

But you don't really know what would make him happy. You don't know anything about this man. You know he likes it when you're dolled up and angry. He likes you when you're sleepy, without makeup, wearing only his shirt. He likes to fuck you from behind and hold you close after. He likes to give you a wash, likes it when you wash him. He likes to watch the two tall trees outside the window sway when there's a strong wind. 

"What makes you happy?" You ask one night after you've had him in your mouth.

"Blowjobs," he answers with a straight face, and you shove him in the shoulder. Nicely. Softly.

"No, for real."

"I dunno." He sighs and turns to stare at your ceiling with a bothered look. It's a tricky question, perhaps. Or weapons, not willingly gifted. 

"Dogs," he shrugs after a while. "A day of silence. Good whiskey."

He doesn't grant you weapons. You get some rope, but not enough to choke him with it. He trusts no one.

"Why don't you like missionary…?" You continue roasting him while curling your fingers around the pale hair on his chest.

"I never said I didn't like it."

"Don't avoid the question, Mr. Doggystyle."

You prop yourself up on your elbow and place your palm flat over his heart. His stare slowly drifts from the ceiling back to you.

"Simon. Why do you always fuck me from behind?" 

He raises his eyebrows like he's innocent of the crime he's being accused of. "Not always."

"Seriously, Simon."

The smug look returns; it gives his eyes a delightful little spark and tugs at the corner of that kissable mouth.

"I like your ass."

"But not my eyes?"

The smile dies, and he gulps down a short surprise, caught between truth and dare. But then his eyes settle like the calming sea under a full moon. Stern, but not remorseless. Bold, but not heartless. If anything, he's naked and bare.

"Darlin'. Love your eyes the most."

Your heart does a backflip. You've been a fool because what else has he done but search for your eyes first thing in the morning? Given you flashes of mischief over breakfast, made love to you with those eyes as you cum around his cock? That liquid fire and smoke hasn't left you since he stepped inside this house.

You breathe together; you can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest. There was a time when you thought this man was incapable of love, but now you fear he has never been allowed to love enough.

"We never talked, you know," you whisper. His heart swells underneath your palm like a sail.

"What'ya wanna talk about?"

"Us."

"So talk."

Walls are raised so quickly you feel them knocking the warmth out of your body. It's cold, it's Antarctic, the technique he uses to withdraw. Your room turns into a kingdom of ice from the cruel, emotionless indifference he emits. 

You've been a fool, yes... And a child.

"You're making it hard," you say, noticing how the man starts to tense up under your fingertips. This is not the way, but you're not smart enough to stop your rampage.

"What happens when you've done your job?"

He doesn't sigh. He doesn't even think twice before giving his answer.

"I go back to the base."

You know now why he's called a ghost. You wonder if he was ever even here. Simon becomes a reminder for you, a reminder to trust no one.

"...Right." You pull your hand away slowly. As if it somehow helps with the pain to pretend you haven't just touched a hot stove and ended up getting your fingers burned.

He notices how you tense up far more than he. The arm around your waist goes tight, and you wonder if you've always been a bloodied steak to this brute, a stupid little princess with your wines, sighs, and wet eyes. He just doesn't want to let go of the last bites of his fine, delicious meat.

"I never thought you wanted a relationship," he says with a hollow voice, and the red rage nearly blinds your sight. You're too riled up to even yell at him.

"Love…" he tries for the last time.

"Get out of my bed."

…............................

His musk still clings to you as you descend the stairs the next morning.

He's sitting at the end of the steps with hunched shoulders and a tense back, exiled into the man he was the first day you met him. Your heart bleeds from the sight, wondering whether Simon has waited there the whole night after you kicked him out of your bedroom. But the boiling bile in your stomach forces you to lift your chin and draw your shoulders back as you walk down those steps with an audible clatter as your heels clack across the parquet.

He must've heard you before you make a racket fitting for an angered queen, but rises only after you've made it halfway through the staircase. You won't allow yourself to even look his way as he draws a deep breath.

"Love. Sweetheart."

But with that, you flash the man a stare full of despise as you walk past him.

"Don't."

"Let me–"

"Don't say a word," you take a sharp turn and raise a hand to shield you from whatever brutality he would like to stain you with. "You don't talk to me. You just do your job. Ok?"

His chest swells with another deep breath, but otherwise, this man is still as a statue again.

"Ma'am."

It takes you a while to notice he has regressed back to that term again, and you tilt your head. The movement is that of a warrior who swings her sword to a guard before a fight. He crosses his hands over his crotch as if to shield the most vulnerable parts from a low blow, but his eyes are full of hateful hurt as he gives you his most pretentious, mocking tone.

"Miss."

Your heart skips a beat – Simon becomes the thing you miss. 

A hit and run.

You have to resist the urge to grimace at the pure venom in his voice - it doesn't matter what he calls you because that tone seeps straight through your skin like lye. It hurts; it burns to see him even more withdrawn to his shell than when you first met. He retreats far beyond the front line, he goes further than the rear, and it's a bitter defeat for both of you.��

This man has rubbed your feet while you've laughed at a stupid joke in a sitcom. The same man has been inside you – night after night after night. It rips your heart to see a distant, perfectly blank expression on his face after you've seen him give you a plentitude of relaxed and wicked little smiles. 

You share the breakfast in funeral-like silence. You wish you could pay him to stay home so that you can go through your day filled with terror and longing without Simon Riley following you around.

"I've been meaning to update you on new intel about the target," he breaks the silence, and your heart feels like it's being put through a wringer. Simon hasn't even touched his breakfast. "Turns out he received training in a sniper unit."

"So?"

"There's a high chance he might prefer to use long-range weapons."

He's professional, curt, clinical. Even more so than when you first shook hands with him. And all the while, those eyes burn you; they examine you like you're the most challenging puzzle he's ever tried to solve. He's cold as ice with his words and hot as hell with that stare. Those eyes seem to pierce your clothes, they even reach under your skin.

"Right," you say without giving him a single look back.

"We have to update our protocol asap."

Our…

We.

"The protocol…" you whisper and finally look up at him. His lips draw into a thin line as he sees how your walls crumble; they didn't last even half a day.

"Simon, I can't do this," you say, your voice breaking. The tears are only seconds away. They blur your sight, but as he rises from the table slowly and takes a hesitant step towards you, you turn your head back to your toast with a snap.

"I want to change bodyguards."

From the corner of your blurred vision, you see how he raises a hand. If you didn't know any better, you could say that he's at his weakest. But the hand falls straight back and gives a twitch by his side. You wonder why he even bothers to disguise the spasm so lousily as a stretch. It's as if he wants you to see that he's in tumult too.

"I'll stay until–"

"No. Get out."

"Miss. I'll just get my things," he says, and you nod briefly. No exchange of gazes is probably the best policy after informing him you no longer need his services. It's better to rip the band-aid off with one yank than try to pretend that this relationship was something more than sexual. 

You know he came to your house with minimal belongings, a duffel bag full of spare clothes and a large case which you supposed was a container for different weapons. That is why you notice he takes a surprisingly long time to get those things and leave your house.

When he finally emerges from his room – no, not his room, but the guest room, you remind yourself – he places the luggage in the hallway and comes back to you, probably to say his polite farewells.

"You won't let me speak to you, so I wrote you a fuckin' letter."

You turn to solid stone as he places an envelope between your water glass and cup of coffee. You sit with your heart thumping in your chest as he picks up his things, walks to the door, walks out of it and out of your life.

It's one of those moments you wish you could freeze and rewind. Do everything differently so that it wouldn't have to come to this. Instead, you listen how the front door clunks shut.

Then you send your trembling fingers up from your lap and onto the pure white thing that holds his secrets. You pry it open and find yourself reading the lines, scribbled with surprisingly sophisticated handwriting, through a round of hot tears.

They cloud your vision, but they don't cloud his words.

You skim through the letter in a frenzied hurry once, then again with more control, and try to remember how to breathe.

He shares shrivels from his past, ugly, horrid things which make your breakfast nearly push up your throat. He tells you he stopped dating eleven years ago for a reason. He writes that he would rather be tortured again than make you suffer from his past and incapacities.

There are certain lines that enter your heart like a thief with the most delicate crowbar. Lines like I'm not good with words and You must know by now that I'm a broken man.

Lines like I'm not a fucking poet but I'll miss your warmth even under the desert sun.

Some lines make you want to tear the letter to pieces. Lines such as Don't throw your diamonds in the dust and I can't give you what you deserve.

He thinks you can't take his darkness, so he shelters you from it. He says he would come back to you if he could. You don't know what the hell he means by that. 

If he could? 

What the fuck prevents him?

You sit inside your empty, lonely house, confident of the fact that it is not you who prevents it. It was not you who just sent him out that door. Who commanded him to leave because you didn't need his services anymore.

The letter makes you cry, and then it makes you boil.

Such sweet words, and so many empty sentences. If only, if I wasn't, if I could.

You get the feeling that he's mocking you again. If only you weren't a princess and a spoiled brat, then perhaps he could reconsider this relationship.

You leave the letter there; you leave your coffee and your breakfast. You almost wish someone would shoot you and put you out of your misery as you call a taxi and go to the heart of the city.

You're completely numb as your fingertips brush silk and linen and all the newest designs. They curl around tiny bottles of bright nail polish and touch the perfumes made from the last free wildflowers of a burning world, but you feel nothing stir inside.

You're emptier than the echo that rings through the malls and corridors of stone; you feel poorer than all the beggars on the street. Shopping always makes you feel better. But now you want to burn all your money, throw your jewels out the window, torch all the fucking stores like some bloody anarchist. You leave every store without buying a thing and try to remember what it was to have lunch without drowning in tears that can't be cried in public.

"I can't give you what you deserve."

That's the line that scalds you most. You know what he meant when he wrote those words, seemingly humble. But your bleeding heart twists that sentence until his words are a testimony of pure rejection.

You have money, so you don't deserve love, is that it?

You want to find him and shake him. It's not about what you deserve or what he deserves. It's not about what anyone deserves. And if the bloody man thinks he doesn't deserve love only because he's made his home in suffering, then he's the last person who should be allowed to decide who deserves what.

You walk through the crowds and streets like a small whirlwind, on the verge of yelling your heart and loneliness out in the air until your vocal cords are raw. You're so riled your mind doesn't even register the gunshot.

The only thing you hear is a glass shattering next to you just before an entire boulder hits you.

His scent envelops you like a safe, warm blanket, even if that blanket weighs a ton and causes your jeans to grate and tear as you two hit the asphalt. Simon gives you bruises, scrapes and burns all across your left side as your body grinds through the dirt. 

Another shot is fired; this time, a car's glass is shattered above you, and the body surrounding you tenses until you worry your bodyguard has been hit. The bodyguard you fired this morning, who's still doing his job, who never even left you…

People are screaming and running in different directions all around and above you, but time comes to a halt as Simon rises only an inch or two.

"Stay down," he gruffs in your ear. "Don't move. Don't you fucking move, ok?"

The whole world could've gone silent from the way you only hear his voice. His words. His distress. You remain still as a stone and look up at him – your lips part because he's looking at you with impatience that's not just pressing; it's demanding.

"Yes," you stutter, "yes, of course."

Someone's pissed because a third shot sends him right back over you, and only then do you notice you're clinging to him, to his jacket and his shirt, like he's a human shield. Then the human shield speaks again, and the words that come out only make you grip him tighter.

"He has to change the magazine soon. You stay right here, ok? I'm going in."

"No, don't," your fingers curl around his clothes and try to keep him on top of you. "Don't go. I'm afraid."

I'll get you a dog. 

A day of silence. 

I'll buy you some good whiskey. I promise…

"I'll be right back," he murmurs, more softly now. "I promise." 

Then he rips himself off you. Your body misses his heat like the desert sand must miss the sun, and you realize you've ruined everything as you finally get to watch him in his element. He's agile and beautiful as he reaches for his gun, takes it out, and prepares it in a few seconds to fire death upon your faceless enemy. You've ruined everything because if Simon goes in, he might get killed – he's a human, not a shield, he's not even a weapon – and all the things you never said will haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Don't leave me," you want to reach for him, but don't dare disobey his orders. It should send you laughing: that you're finally doing precisely as he says. You finally trust your life with him, just before he leaves you, leaves you, leaves you. 

"Simon–"

"Sweetheart. I never left you."

He looks straight into your eyes. You gulp the tears now.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, and someone is screaming; everythings a buzz, cars whir by as you tell him all the things you meant to say weeks ago. "I never wanted you to go. I always liked you. I– I think I love–"

"Shh. Don't you do this to me now."

The words are so soft you have to struggle to hear what he's saying under his breath. It's like he's talking to himself, and you realize you're an asshole, saying things like that to him when he's trying to concentrate on his mission and his job. But you just can't help yourself sometimes. No one in your life compares to him. No one has caused such a ruckus, such turmoil, such devastation and such love.

"Do what?" you whimper there, motionless on the ground as he gives you a last, painful look before his stare fixes on the piece of glass still unshattered, the dim, transient mirror of a store window he uses to locate movement in one of the buildings. 

Then he takes a peek over the car, and you hold your breath – he's the bait now, and ducks his head immediately as two more shots are fired. You don't even have the strength to scream; your whole body simply shudders from the echoing sound of pure fear – how can he play tag with death like that? 

And then he leaves. 

He rounds the car and darts for the building and the sniper; he disappears from your vision so quickly you wonder if these past weeks have been but a dream.

A hit and run.

"Do what…" you repeat on the ground and curl into yourself even though he said you shouldn't move. You figure it's not that big of a crime to go into a fetal position when you don't know if he's ever coming back to scold you for breaking the rules.

You want to close your ears from the sounds that follow – you fear you'll jinx something if you listen too closely to what happens in that building. You try to concentrate on your breaths, slowly bringing you back to your body. You haven't even noticed that there's blood running down your arm.

It's funny how you only notice the pain after seeing the flowing crimson that makes small rivers around your fingers. You don't want to look at your burning shoulder because the shock is already here. 

The searing pulse gets worse as you hear another shot, then another shot. Those sounds pound inside your shoulder and send more fire down your arm. Minutes or hours pass and you think how strange it is that everything's completely still, how bizarre it is that there are no sirens, no cars, no screaming. They've finally closed off the roads.

You only start to cry when you see that he's alive.

You try to rise from the ground to meet him – a bleeding princess, waking from her beauty sleep and realizing everything's just been a bad dream, greeting her knight in a black pair of fitted tactical pants and a pistol on his waist. Diamonds and darkness…

He rushes to you in what seems like desperation. You find it oddly beautiful that he's not only relieved to see his client is still alive and well, he's also relieved to know you're still there. That his princess has waited for him.

He falls on his knees and prevents you from rising. You're quickly wrapped in his arms, feeling so happy and safe that you don't even bother to tell him you're injured. It's just a scratch anyway. Even if your leg was blown off, you wouldn't complain about being picked up in his lap like this. 

"Shh. I got you. I got you."

He's cradling you like a child while tears stream down your face, but there's no audible sounds of crying. You weep a whole river of tears and your nose is clogged, forcing you to breathe through your mouth, but there's no wailing, no screaming, no bawling. The first words that roll off your tongue are a child's moody complaint.

"You left me," you mope as he caresses your head.

"Only for a little while."

"You came back."

"I said I would."

More tears flow, and this time you sniffle and sob. He rocks you gently back and forth as you cry in his embrace. Simon would make a good father.

"Is he…?" You whisper, then look up at him. He just nods and gives you a quick scan, drawing a sharp breath when he notices the wound on your arm. 

You're placed back on the ground as he inspects your shoulder and tells you the bullet managed to scrape some skin but has mostly just ruined your jacket. You're almost sorry that the wound is not as severe as it feels. You thought the burning sensation meant shattered bones and scarred flesh, but the scratch is no deeper than if you had accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife.

"No, I don't want… No hospital," you beg as he offers to take you to ER. You're not spending the rest of the day in a frigid treatment room where tired medical personnel only clean the wound and put a big plaster on it. 

"Just take me home," you plead like you're his daughter who doesn't want to go to school today. "Please?"

"Sure. Whatever ya want."

He makes a few phone calls, arranges things with the local police or something. You don't want to know anything about it. You don't want to know who got shot in that building and how.

It's not a taxi that drives you back this time. You don't know where he got a car and a driver, but the vehicle is big and black, and your head is in Simon's lap when you lie in the backseat. There's a panel between the driver's seat and the rear, so you don't even know who's driving, but you're only grateful for the privacy after the crazy morning followed by a murder attempt. You look up at Simon, who looks back at you for the first time while you're in a car together.

"Why did you become a soldier?" You ask, not knowing why you're whispering. He's holding your hand – a simple, wholesome thing to do, but his grip on you is solid and warm and feels equally as intimate as the times this man has been inside you. 

"I wanted to help people." 

"By killing them?"

"By saving those I can."

He keeps a hand on your cheek too. Simon has spoken softly ever since you were fired at, has been humane and caring and tender, and you realize… This man is naked before you; he's stripped bare from all pretenses. 

And he's not darkness. He's not a skeleton or a dead man or even a soldier.

He's a beacon in the night.

"You did a good job," you squeeze his hand softly.

The last glass-like veil in his eyes shatters, but far more softly than those windows shot at with a rifle.

"I live to serve, Ma'am...–Miss."

"Don’t… Simon, please don’t call me a–"

He descends. He doesn't need that hand to lift your chin up to meet him in a kiss. It's not a hungry devouring this time, but a soft promise, a lover's seal. You feel the rest of the shock leave your body in his embrace. There's no more coldness, only a fragile burning.

"You never look me in the eyes," you whisper as a tear escapes from the corner of your eye. It's a silly thing to say when he looks at you with all the love in the world.

"Yes I do," he gives you a soft brush of a thumb across your cheek. His lips are right there, an inch away from yours. "How could you have missed that?"

He's right, as always. The dark love almost swallows the brown of his eyes as he looks at you, shining light on you as he has shined for days, for weeks now. How could you have missed that, indeed? You raise a hand to cup his cheek, not caring about the pain, not even mourning that your blood stains his chin. He doesn't seem to mind at all, so why would you?

When you arrive at your house, he drives away the loneliness, sorrow, everything a rich girl can fear by carrying you in his arms, stepping over the threshold with you like you two are married now.

He peels your jacket off with affection and tenderness, tends to your wound and wipes away the blood that has caked dry all over your arm. The gash has bled a lot for such a small wound, and you purse your lips from how accurately it reflects your feelings for him.

He ties the wound, checks at least two times he's not tying it too tight. His care breaks your heart, because you don't know whether he will leave you after this. There's nothing that keeps him here anymore – there's no way you can keep Simon Riley to yourself. So you abandon him first for the second time, ascend the stairs to your lonely domain while he cleans up the small mess in the bathroom.

It's a small miracle that he follows you. He opens the door to your room without knocking – not because he's entitled to your privacy, but because there are no more barriers between you two. You're gathered in a stout embrace for the second time this afternoon, and you wrap your arms around him to hold him closer.

"You'll leave me soon," you speak to the wall before you, to the man behind you, holding you so gently against his chest. "I'll miss you."

"Love," he murmurs behind you, you feel the words against your back as a warm rumble. "I'll come back. If you want me, I'll come back to you."

"You will…?"

"I promise."

You have no more tears to cry, so you settle for examining the stab inside your heart, the wound that will bleed you dry if no one ties it tightly enough. 

"I don't believe you."

"It's not a matter of whether you believe me."

He turns you around and lets you bathe in his warmth again, the same golden light that came through the window when he placed his mouth on you in the kitchen. It's almost frightening to know that there's nothing that can keep him from you. Nothing, except you. The only thing that has stood between you was only and ever pride.

"Simon," you breathe, a soft attempt to introduce him to mercy. "It's not a matter of what we deserve."

He blinks a few times, the chest against your side collapses a little. It's a hard reset. The corner of his mouth tugs, a beautiful betrayal of his surrender, a sign of being hit by a boulder – your boulder, finally bringing the rest of those walls down.

"You think so...?"

"Yes. I think so."

He brushes his knuckles across your sternum – a familiar motion that always manages to lift your heart. You used to think it was foreplay when it was in truth, an attempt to touch the organ said to be the house of love.

You think about the times his harsh breaths have hit you just before he cums, the urgent praise he's peppered you with merely seconds before you've cried from pleasure. Can't get enough of you pet, you’re fucking perfect, 'm gonna make you cum, sing for me, just like that... 

You always thought it was a catalogue of shallow lust when it was an offering of naked devotion. 

He was as vulnerable as you when you drifted through space together, when you drowned in his stunning midnight sea. He was catching fire and burning too, again and again until you were both satisfied and sweaty. He always held you close after, panted desperate love on your skin, planted kisses on your collarbones and neck before resting his head on your heart. Settling there, over your pulse, like he had finally found his way home…

The hand glides between your breasts and molds itself over your waist. It fits there like a second skin. You're relatively sure his hands were made for holding you. 

"You asked what makes me happy," he says, completely naked and bare. The heavy love surrounds you with warm safety; your breath flows freely as you await his confession, the last secret revealed. "I think you know, love."

You know. It has finally dawned on you. What you didn't know was that tears of hope could feel like fire too. You've never been more eager to burn.

"Now keep those pretty eyes on me."

[holylulusworld]

BFG (5)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: size kink, flirty reader, objectification of Reacher, language, oral (fem rec), light fingering, dirty talk, smut, unprotected sex

A/N: Please consider that I do not follow the exact storyline of season one. Some characters known from the show may appear.

Catch up here: BFG (4)

BFG masterlist

“Reacher,” you helplessly press the palms of your hands against the shower wall. Reacher is still holding your body in a tight grip while his tongue swirls around your clit. He’s driving you crazy, always pushing you toward the edge, but refusing to let you topple over. “Fuck.”

“Shh…sweet peach pie. This is a special peach and I want to enjoy eating it,” he undoubtedly smirks against your overstimulated flesh while he murmurs the words. All you want is to cum all over his face, or fingers, or anything he offers to you but he won’t let you. “So pretty when you are in my arms.”

“Please-“ you blindly grasp for his short strands, tugging hard. “I want…your fingers.” As much as you love his mouth on you, his fingers are thick and long and you want nothing more than to feel Reacher explore your dripping cunt with his fingers. “Please…”

He looks up at you, eyes softening as you look back at him with need in your eyes, mirroring his own. It’s been a long time since he felt someone touch him gently. The only physical contact he had was during fights.

“Come here.” Again, you're shocked at how fast a man his size can move. You end up in his arms, your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waistline. 

One of his thick arms holds you against his body as he lifts his hand to show you his fingers. You bite your lower lip, desperate to hold back another moan. “Fingers or something bigger?”

“Fingers…” You try not to sound like a desperate and wounded animal when you whisper your answer. “I imagine having them inside of me…”

“I imagined putting my hands on you for being so cocky and flirty. You distracted me, peach pie.” Reacher dips his head to nip at your neck. “Do you know what you get yourself into when you let me have my way with you?”

“I hope to get you inside of me,” you challenge. “At least your fingers, big boy.”

“I’m not a boy, Y/N.” He warns. “If you want me, you’ll take all of me. Even if it’s too much. I won’t stop until you have all of me inside of your sweet peach pie.”

Your eyes round at his words. Who would’ve thought Reacher likes to talk dirty? “Do it, then. Ruin me, you beast of a man.”

“All for you,” he smirks. “Let go, I need to put you on your feet to play with your juicy peach.” 

He hums as you let go to allow him to place you on wobbling legs, admiring your wrecked state. He dips his head to look you up and down, making you feel self-conscious again.

The moment you try to cover yourself he’s back on you. “No, no. I want to see and have all of you.” You squeak as he hoists you back up to press you against the tile wall. “I have to have you, peach pie. I can’t wait any longer.”

His lips claim yours in a passionate kiss while his big hand moves between your legs. Reacher eagerly kisses you to distract you from his thick fingers slipping inside your slit. 

“Fuck,” you curse against his lips. “So…thick…”

“Yeah, peach pie,” Reacher nips at your lips, tongue forcing its way inside your mouth. He moans against you while curling his thick fingers. He slowly fucks you with his digits, smirking against your lips as you try to rock your hips. “Not yet, Y/N. You’ll cum on my cock only.”

“No—I,” you whine as he slips his fingers back out. He’s holding your body with one arm while moving his free hand to his cock. “Please.”

“I’ve been waiting to have you like this far too long,” he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. “Open up to me, pretty peach pie. I want to feel it.”

You sling your arms tighter around his neck the moment Reacher pushes slowly into you. He’s thick, and you can barely hold still feeling this monster of a cock spear you open. 

You want to squirm and rock your hips but Reacher is so much stronger. He holds you against the wall and presses into you, slow but determined to fill you.

Your legs wrap tighter around his waistline, to hold tight onto him. You’re not used to a man who can hold you against a wall for such a long time and fear he’ll drop you if you get careless.

“Re-acher,” you wish you could see his cock, but it feels like you’re fuller than ever before when he finally bottoms out. “Fuck.”

“You’re doing so well for me,” his praise goes straight to your core. “So…so good, peach pie.” Reacher kisses you again while holding himself back to not rut into you like an animal. 

“You’re doing so well for me, big boy,” you grin. This godlike giant feels too good inside of your body to not be over the moon. “How about you move those perfect hips and make a girl cum.”

Reacher likes a challenge. He’s kissing you like he wants to devour you. You kiss him back, as eager as the man holding your body in his arms. 

He’s slowly grinding into you. His thick cock hits all the right spots, but having him pressed against you, feels even better. Both of you touch-starved, and lonely you get lost in the feel of each other. You cling to him, desperate for more than an orgasm. 

“Reacher,” you whisper against his lips. “I’m gonna…”

“Let go, sweet peach pie,” he nips at your lips. “I’ve got you.” His voice alone pushes you over the edge. You curse his name like a prayer as he stills his hips. He buries his face in your neck, your name on his lips when he comes.

“This bed is much bigger.” 

You giggle at Reacher’s comment. You left the bathroom for round two. Now you lie on your queen-sized bed, to come down from another high and to feel your legs again.

“You like it because it’s big enough for you,” you grin as he stretches his long legs out. “Can I ask you a question?”

Reacher rolls to his side to look at you. “You can ask me anything, Y/N.”

“Did you ever have sex in the backseat of a car,” you smirk at Reacher. “I mean, can you even have sex in a car? You’re huge.”

He laughs loudly and rolls onto his back. Reacher pats his chest, inviting you to rest your head on it. You yawn and follow his invitation to get a few hours of sleep before you go to the diner.

Sally Ann sniffles silently. She almost got hit by one of the bricks destroying all of your windows at the diner. “I’m sorry I didn’t see them. I was so scared and hid behind the counter.”

“Honey, you did the right thing,” you gently pat her shoulder. “I called the cops, okay. It’s not your fault some kids got bored and decided to destroy all of my windows.”

“What happened here?” Reacher came by to see you and have a slice of your pie. “Who did this?” He looks around the diner, frowning deeply when his eyes land on a brick, wrapped in a piece of paper. He picks the brick up and squares his jaw.

“I already called the cops,” you try to stop him, but Reacher is halfway out of the diner. “Reacher, don’t. He’s not worth it.”

You sigh, and chase after Reacher. He’s still holding the brick in his hands when he walks along the sidewalk to find KJ’s car parked outside the restaurant across the street. 

“Reacher!” You try to stop him again. “You’ll get in trouble!”

He stops in his tracks to look at the brick in his hands. He rereads the words written on the piece of paper wrapped around the brick again.

“He destroyed all of your windows and called you a slut. I won’t let him get away with it.”

“KJ is not the smartest, and he believes every woman must fall for him. His ego can’t take my rejection. It’s unbelievable to him that the chubby owner of the diner rejected him.”

“I want you to go home and let me handle this,” Reacher softly speaks to you. “You can’t work today, or until the windows are fixed. Sally Ann was scared to hell and back. They could’ve hit her.”

“Reacher,” you grab his hand to hold it for a moment. You look up at him, eyes drifting toward his lips. “You better come home tonight. I don’t want to sleep alone.”

He cups your face with one large hand to press his lips to yours.

“Promised…”

Part 6

Tags in reblog.

[cinnamonmilf]

✧˖°.☪︎.𖥔 ݁✧:･. rapid eye movement (part ii)

summary: you meet ellie in a dream…or was it at a café now?

cw: nothing, just fluff (repost from old account), you can read part 1 here

BEFORE YOU READ!!!:

FUNDRAISER MASTERPOST BOYCOTT TLOU DAILY CLICK

"Excuse me, um, I love you"

I know that's not the way to start a conversation

It had been two days since you had seen Ellie. This time she wasn’t accompanied by the yellowish hue and warm ambience of your R.E.M. state, you had actually seen her.

The girl that was driving you crazy was actually flesh and bones, rather than just a lulling mirage, and she had been kind enough to give you the notebook you’d forgotten at your favorite café.

There was no other way to describe it besides bizarre.

You couldn’t even thank her properly, staring at her for what was probably too long with widened eyes. She even asked a concerned “Are you okay?”. And no, you definitely weren’t.

Did she not know who you were? Did she forget about your strolls and your hugs and your deep talks? Had she ever dreamt of you? Was it even possible that it was all true? Or had you maybe seen her before and your brain took her face and made up an entire person?

How are you supposed to explain to a total stranger you’ve dreamt of her and fallen for her in said dreams?

The hair, the face, the tattoo, all of it was the same. Would she be the same, though? Was she an astrophysics major? Did she like the color green and NASA and also laughed at silly puns?

It was like your brain was nothing but a bunch of questions with no answer. None rational, at least.

But there she was. Right in front of you with that mesmerizing aura of hers that made you feel so drawn to her…regardless of the realm you were in. You weren’t one to ask people out. You’d usually wait for them to ask you or flirt with them until they took a hint. But there was no way you could let her go just like that. You couldn’t really tell her you knew her either, but you could just ask for her phone number, right?

And so you did. She smiled and agreed. In her mind, she was happy about the fact that giving you your notebook back had landed her a possible date with such a pretty girl.

Two days. You hadn’t texted her. You didn’t dare. What if she wasn’t like your Ellie? What if for some fucked up reason you dreamt of someone so special but she turned out to be nothing like that? What if the connection wasn’t there? What if she wasn’t sweet and caring and funny and trustworthy?

But it had been enough. Enough questions and enough overthinking. There was no way for you to know if you didn’t text her.

“Hi, it’s the girl whose notebook you saved :)”

“Hey, didn’t think you’d text anymore”

“Oh no! I’m sorry. I just got a little caught up with school”

“I wanted to see if you’d like to hangout sometime?”

“I’d really like that. Is friday cool?”

“Friday’s great <3”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

“Oh you don’t have to dw”

“No, it’s okay, I want to”

“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking on her own”

You sighed in relief. At least you were done with that part.

Flirty…At least that checks out with your Ellie.

You spent the rest of your week both dreading and anticipating your date on Friday. And, god, were you a mess.

You couldn’t remember ever being so nervous about meeting someone. You spent the next couple days overthinking your outfit choices, how you should do your hair, what you were going to say. More than anything, the thought of this Ellie not being at least a little like your Ellie was nothing short of terrifying. You adored this girl. Her not being real was one thing, but her being real and being the complete opposite was a nightmare.

At 6:36pm your bell rang.

“Coming!” You yelled as you finished putting on your shoe and took one last look in the mirror.

“You got this,” you told yourself. Though the shaking of your hands was slightly contradictory.

You finally opened the door and there she was. She was wearing jeans and an open button-up with the half-up hairdo you liked so much. You can’t help but discreetly pinch yourself just to make sure you weren’t asleep.

“Hi.” You greet her with a smile.

“Hey, you look great.”

“Thank you, you look great too.” She´s smirking now, probably noticing how nervous you were. Well, at least now you knew she was cocky too. “You ready?”

The ride to the restaurant was filled with small talk. You were too nervous to ask her any of the questions you actually needed to ask. You thought to yourself you’d leave them for the restaurant. Having warmed up a little more with each other.

One thing about Ellie, she knew how to treat a girl. She opened the door for you, helped you fasten your seatbelt, let you play your own music on the way there. She was so…well, dreamy.

As you both wait for your food you finally gather the courage to ask. In reality, they were all very basic questions. Not to you, though.

“So, Ellie..”

She hums.

“Are you in college?”

“Yeah, Astrophysics”. Oh, fuck.

“Astrophysics?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” she chuckles, “have always been into all things space.”

You can’t quite believe this is real and not some sort of sick cosmic joke. You try your best to hide your shock. It’s not really a good look for you to audibly gasp every time she says or does something that further proves she’s actually Ellie.

“Oh really? You must be really smart, then.” You tease with a smile.

“Shut up.” She laughs. “Are you in college?”

“Yes, English Literature. Almost done.”

“Really? Suits you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good, of course.”

If this whole thing was bizarre, this moment was just ridiculous. Every other déjà vu was nothing compared to this. It was your Ellie, from the looks down to the way she worded her thoughts.

The rest of your date went great. You learned she indeed was twenty two and liked NASA and comics. She talked the same and she laughed at the same things. She had the same mannerisms: pouts her lips, she fidgets with her hands, smirks a whole lot and oh! such a flirt.

One thing, though - nothing hinted at the fact that she remembered you. You knew most of the things she told you about herself today, not that you minded, but she was actually meeting you for the first time. How could she not remember? Did she even have the same dreams?

You still had many questions, but you were also very relieved. She was Ellie. Your Ellie. Your auburnette with a space obsession and a liking for silly puns. Your funny and sweet friend. Your favorite girl.

She took you back home and walked you to your door. You spin on your heel to face her.

Loose strand of her framing her face, glimmery green eyes staring at you and an eyebrow scar that’s surprisingly attractive on her. Like straight up from your subconscious mind, now right in front of you.

“Can I see you again?” You can tell she’s the nervous one now, not that she lets you see it. You just know her too well.

You smile at her. You thought it was obvious.

“Of course.” You inch closer towards her and press a kiss on her cheek. “Call me, yeah?”

She blushes at this. Trying too hard to contain the huge grin on her lips.

“I will.”

“Goodbye, Ellie.”

The next few days went well. Ellie and you kept texting back and forth, getting to know each other more. You did find out new things about her. About her past, her friendships, her family.

You found yourself constantly checking your phone for her texts. Eagerly waiting for the notification on your screen with her name attached to it. Not that she ever made you wait long, you pretty much had all her attention. You’d smile every time she’d make a dumb joke or she’d call you a sweet name. When you thought you couldn’t love this girl more…

-

The sun was starting to set. Pink and purple clouds painting the sky. The weather was getting warmer and you didn’t have to carry an obnoxiously big jacket with you anymore. You’d had classes all day, finally ready to unwind and peacefully enjoy your Friday night. Or so you thought.

Your phone starts ringing and it’s none other than the girl who's responsible for your stomach doing somersaults. You quickly drag the phone icon to the right and press the device to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, pretty, Are you busy?”

“Nope, just walking home. Had a bunch of classes all day.”

“Are you doing anything later?”

“Ellie Williams, are you trying to ask me out on a date?” You jokingly gasp and earn a laugh from her end.

“Yes, actually. The sky’s supposed to be like super clear tonight and I know a spot where you can really see all the stars and stuff.”

“I’m in.”

“Yeah? I’ll pick you up in an hour. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great. Bye, Ellie.”

“See you in an hour.”

You scurried to your apartment to get ready. You did your hair, changed your clothes, sprayed a sweet vanilla perfume on your pulsing points and quickly touched up your makeup. An hour and eleven minutes later, your bell rang.

This time she was wearing a hoodie with a light jacket on top, her staple jeans and jacket combo. Her hair was up in a low bun. She was such a sight for sore eyes.

“How do you even know this place?” You ask as you both get out of the car. It was higher than the rest of the city, not quite at the top of the mountains but it still had a rather breath-taking view. Pretty quiet yet comforting. A safe haven just for the two of you, at least for tonight.

“Well…” Ellie scrunches her nose.

“What?”

“Kind of found it by accident once, with my ex.” She nervously scratches the back of her neck.

“Are you serious?” You laugh.

“It was just once!”

“So you bring all your girls here?”

“Just the special ones.”

“Shut up, dork.” You playfully roll your eyes at her and nudge her arm.

You both settle the blanket on the grass. Lying next to each other. Propped heads rested on your respective hands.

“So..ex, huh?”

“Yeah, we broke up a little bit over a year ago.”

“What was her name?”

“Cat.” You hum. “She’s great, we just didn’t really work as a couple.”

“Are you guys still friends?”

“We are on good terms. Talk every now and then. I wouldn’t call it ‘friends’, though.”

“I’m not really supposed to talk about exes until like the fifth date, you know?” She jokes.

“You brought her up!” You laugh.

“Yeah, you are right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Ellie couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Yes, this was your second date but it felt like it wasn’t. She felt as if she had known you her whole life. Something about talking to you and spending time with you felt just right. More than right. You brought a sense of comfort to her. She was in awe of you.

You both rest your heads and look up at the sky. Ellie was right, it was very clear tonight, you couldn’t recall the last time you had seen so many stars.

“Look, you see that one? The one that looks like a W.”

“Wait, where?”

“Right..” she grabs your index finger and points it towards it, “there.”

“Oh I see it!”

“That’s Cassiopeia.” She explains not letting go of your hand, despite you having already spotted the cluster of stars. “It’s the 25th largest constellation in the night sky.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and the first to list it was Ptolomy in the second century…” Ellie went on and on about nebulas and exoplanets. It’s not that you didn’t care, it just so happened that the constellations lined up by her freckles were a whole lot more interesting than the ones drawn in the navy blue sky. “I probably sound like such a nerd right now.” She laughed.

“What? No, not at all. It’s cute how excited you get.” You keep on playing with her hand. Locking and unlocking your fingers, twisting them against each other’s, featherly brushes against her knuckles and the soft scraping of your nails against her skin.

“Is it?” She could feel her heart speed up, so much so that it felt like it was trying to break her ribs and find its way to you. You were no better.

“Mhm, you are very smart. I love hearing you talk.”

She smirked. Of course she did. No matter how nervous or excited she was, she wasn’t Ellie without that tinge of cockiness never leaving her side.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You breathed out.

She hovered over you, grabbing your chin to pull you closer to her. She brushed her lips against yours, almost kissing you. Breaths perfectly sync as you feel the air fanning against each other’s mouth. There was no way in hell you could wait one more second, you break first. You crashed your lips into hers.

You had never kissed Ellie, not even in your dreams. You had thought about it many times, but even your imagination’s best efforts couldn’t compare to this.

It was exhilarating, the feeling of her lips rhythmically moving with yours. It just made sense, you two fit. You had kissed people before, but nothing like this. You two were made for each other, and if the otherworldly experience of how you first met didn’t make it painfully obvious, this did.

You moaned into the kiss which she took as an opportunity to explore your mouth with her tongue. Cupping your face to bring you closer, as if you were going anywhere.

She finally breaks the kiss.

“Fuck…”

You giggle, “I know.”

Crazy to be so infatuated by someone on your second date. But the truth is that’s how Ellie felt and she couldn’t explain the how. You, on the other hand, had an idea or two.

After your second date the two of you only got closer. You were on cloud nine. You two could talk for hours, hangout for hours, laugh for hours, kiss for hours. You had come to terms with the fact that you would never know how it is that you met Ellie first or why she couldn’t remember your slumber induced escapades.

It didn’t make it any less strange, but you were long past the freaking out stage. If anything, you had gotten to know Ellie better and even experienced things you never got the chance to back there. You were meant to find each other. That was the best you could come up with and it was fine with you.

-

You decided to plan a date for you and Ellie. She was usually the one that did, being the creative one out of the two of you. But you wanted to do something nice for her.

You settled on a picnic. The past few days had been sunny and warm enough for it. You hauled to the kitchen and prepared everything you needed. The snacks, the drinks, the plates and the cutlery, checkered blanket and all. You even got her flowers earlier that morning.

As your girl rang your bell one more time to pick you up, you grabbed the basket and the flowers and opened the door.

“Hey, beautiful.” She said as she pulled you in for a kiss. You hum into the kiss.

“These are for you,” you tell her as you hand her the bouquet.

“Are you serious?” She asks with a grin on her face.

“Of course, I’m serious.”

“God, you are” kiss “so fucking” kiss “cute” kiss

You giggle into her kisses. “I take it you like them?”

“I love them. You are the first girl to give me flowers, you know?”

“I am?” You ask incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“All the other girls were stupid, then.” She laughs.

She drives to your destination. A pretty forest you had found upon a quick internet search for a good picnic spot. The pictures didn’t lie, the place was beautiful. Green foliage and perfectly cut grass with the perfect amount of sun and shade. You set up the whole thing, enjoying the evening with Ellie.

Ellie was convinced she could stare at you for hours. From how you move your hands when you talk, to how you tilt your head back slightly when you laugh, to how you pout your lips and twist them to the side when you are thinking, you drive her mad.

And maybe it’s the way the sun is hitting your back, making a halo form around your silhouette. Maybe it’s the way the green compliments your skin so beautifully, so familiarly. Maybe the way the warmth of the day and yours mix together and embrace her, making her vision slightly hazy. Maybe the way the sound of the breeze hits the leaves and the sound of the birds chirping mixes with your voice and creates a song she’s sure she’s heard before. But Ellie has lived this before. She has seen you like this before.

She almost gets whiplash from it, all of it coming back to her at once. The day at the cafè wasn’t the first time you two met, and she remembered now.

-

a/n: second repost while i work on part 3 :)

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