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fatecantstopme · 4 months

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Spell Bound

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies

"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.

You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.

He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.

"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."

"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."

You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."

"You think?"

You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.

About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.

"I think I found it," you said aloud.

At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.

You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."

"Seriously?"

He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."

You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."

He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."

You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."

He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.

"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."

Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.

"Dean?" you asked tentatively.

"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."

"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"

He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.

You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.

"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.

Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"

You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"

Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"

"You can smell my skin?"

He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"

"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."

You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."

"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."

You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.

"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.

You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.

"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."

Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.

"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"

Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."

"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."

"It's called what?"

"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."

"Die? Is there a cure?"

You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."

"I have to what?"

"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"

"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."

"How long do I have?"

You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.

"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.

"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."

Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.

"Shit."

"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.

"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"

"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

"Another story?"

"It could take a lot longer."

"Great," you mumbled.

"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.

"Dean?" you questioned softly.

"Just drive, (Y/N)."

You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.

Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.

"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.

You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."

He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."

You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."

He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."

"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."

You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.

"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.

Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.

"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."

"It's alright...use me."

He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."

You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."

That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.

He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.

His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.

He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.

He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."

You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."

He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.

You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.

Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.

His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.

You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.

"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."

You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.

"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."

Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.

His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.

You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"

He shook his head. "Need more."

He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.

He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.

Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.

"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.

He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.

Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.

You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.

After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.

You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.

It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.

You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.

Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.

When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.

"Better?" you whispered.

He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.

Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.

His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.

His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.

His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.

You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.

Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.

When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.

Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.

He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.

You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.

You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.

To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.

"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.

His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.

"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.

He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.

This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.

You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."

He groaned. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.

"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.

"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.

You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.

"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"

You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.

He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.

He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.

He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.

His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.

Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."

You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."

His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"

You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.

"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"

You nodded again.

"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."

Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.

The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.

He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.

He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.

You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.

Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.

"A little," you said honestly.

He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."

You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."

There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.

"Shower?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't think I can stand."

A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."

You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.

"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.

He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.

You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.

You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.

Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.

You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?

As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."

"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.

Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.

"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."

Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."

"But--"

He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."

Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...

Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.

"Umm...whatcha doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"

You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.

Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"

"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."

He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"

"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."

"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"

You nodded.

"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."

"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.

He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"

You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.

He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."

Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.

"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."

"You--you love me?"

"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."

"You're in love--with me?"

He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."

"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.

"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.

You nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He grinned widely. "Yeah?"

You nodded, cheeks turning red.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.

"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."

"But I'm comfortable," you whined.

He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"

You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."

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riki-dazed · 2 months

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When camping with your best friend (with benefits) doesn't go to plan

NSFW smut · block & don't read if you're uncomfortable · reader gives a bj, cursing · wc: 1139 · requested

Your phone vibrated in your hands, you shifted your gaze down to it to find a text from your best friend.

come to my tent

there's no one here atm

A small smile found its way across your lips, you wasted no time in hurrying out of your tent and down to where Riki's was pitched.

Some of the boys invited you and other mutual friends to go on a short camping trip with them out in the woods, you were ecstatic over the fact it meant getting to spend more time with your favourite person, Riki.

"Took you long enough," The said boy teased as you unzipped the opening to his tent and threw yourself inside, while simultaneously shushing him by placing your finger across your lips. You made sure to close the entry back up.

"The others left to go on a walk, my baby, there's no one here," He spoke, his deep voice was tainted by firey excitement, yet it was still hushed and cautious. The tone of his voice was music to your ears.

The pet name caused you to erupt into quiet giggles as you crawled over to him on all fours before settling on his lap, straddling his thighs. The both of you shared a swift look, nothing but soft smiles filled the tight, dark space.

You wasted no time in closing the few inches that were left between the two of you. Your stomach erupted into an array of butterflies as you engulfed his soft, plump lips with your own. Your lips danced against one another's. Goodness you loved the feeling of his lips, no one else's could compare or even come close to how good his pillowy ones felt against you. You could've stayed making out with him like that all night.

His touchy hands only added to your butterflies.

Riki's smile broke the kiss for a split moment as he breathlessly spoke against your swollen, red tinted lips, "What if I invited you over to talk? You're so needy,"

He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a quiet, high-pitched moan from your throat that drove him wild. He loved the noises you'd make, even more so considering he was the only one who got to hear those heavenly sounds of yours.

You could feel him growing harder and harder under his sweat pants, and although the feeling of him against your clothed core was making you feel lightheaded, you successfully fought the urge to grind down onto him. You had a different plan in mind for your best friend that evening.

Riki watched you carefully with a raised eyebrow as you climbed off him, a tender look settled in his eyes. You kneeled beside his large body as he laid back and propped himself up on his elbows. Feeling more playful than usual, you began to fiddle with the waistband of his sweat pants, salivating when you noticed he only had sweats on.

"Baby, please," Riki almost whined, which only turned you on even more, "Please do something,"

You smiled to yourself as you watched his twitching bulge, proud of how hard you've managed to get him by barely even doing anything. A string of hushed curses escaped his lips as you palmed him through the gray fabric.

"..I'm already close," Riki groaned, sounding like he was disappointed. You chuckled in reply before you ever so slightly pulled his sweat pants down, finally revealing all of him.

You placed a few soft pecks on the sensitive skin, followed by some kitten licks. After licking up the shaft, you proceeded to take the entirety of his length into your warm, more than welcoming mouth. You sigh in content. He sucks in a breath, the vibrations only adding to his dizziness. He could've sworn he saw stars.

"Oh my fuck, y/n," His hips bucked upwards mere seconds later, his member perfectly hitting the back of your throat, "J-just like that,"

After a few minutes of Riki squirming underneath you, you decided to give your mouth a quick break as you continued the job with your hands. You knew exactly how he liked it best.. and boy did you do your best for him. Riki's head fell backwards at the sight of your small hands wrapped around him, sticky and wet. His chest tightened with every kiss you left on his tip.

"And to think you called me the needy one," You chuckled quietly as you played with him against your tongue,

"I will never not be needy for you," His eyes shut, his eyebrows twisted in pleasure. He was in such a state of pure bliss he could barely choke out coherent sentences.

"Y/n.. I-I'm gonna cum,"

What did I do to deserve having him like this for me?

"It's okay, let go for me," You reassured Riki before taking him back inside. The wet warmth made his abs tense up for what might've been the fiftieth time underneath his thin, white tee.

"F-fuck.. Fuck," One of his hands found its way into your hair, gripping the strands tightly between his fingers. He helped guide your head as it bobbed on him.

As Riki coated the inside of your mouth, you made sure to swallow every last sticky drop while maintaining eye contact with him. He looked so prettily fucked out, the sight had you squeezing your thighs together.

Mustering up all the energy he had left within himself, Riki sat up and went straight back for your lips, his grip in your hair not budging. He could taste himself on your tongue.

"Are y'all done yet..?"

Your jaw fell open at the sound of the familiar voice that came from outside the tent.. That was Jay.

You stared at Riki, your eyes wide. He stared back at you just as shocked as his hand fell from your hair, he was still trying to catch his breath. The panting boy immediately pulled his sweats up, his lips pursed, holding back a laugh.

"Did they hear us?" You mouthed, he shrugged in reply.

Your hand flew to your face, covering your mouth as you tried to not make any further noises. Riki's eyes focused on the entry to the tent.

"I'm already close~" What sounded like Jake's mocking voice was heard next, you gasped quietly.

"How long have yous been out there!?" Riki shouted, your body fell forwards across his as your cheeks flushed red. His long arms wrapped around your figure, you couldn't help but laugh against his torso.

"We didn't want to interrupt.. Now stop sucking dick and come out here to eat proper food," Another one of the boys added which had caused Riki to quietly start laughing with you.

You spent the rest of that night hiding your face as the boys continued to crack jokes non-stop.

#enhypen smut #ni-ki smut #enhypen ni-ki #riki smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen hard hours #ni-ki #enha #enha x reader #ni-ki imagines #riki-dazed

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ohwowimlonley · 11 months

Note

I uh, came here from the stepbro!Siri with a corruption kink... I was wondering if you could do more stepbro!Siri? But uhm maybe like "stepbro!Siri x reader +best friend mooney" ? If you're uncomfortable with this request, you can just ignore this... I also wanted to know if I could be Anon ✨?

Omg I’m so sorry this took me so long and of course you can be an anon if you want to lovely

Also this is unfinished so ask for another part if u want :)

Smut below the cut

—

“Hey there sweetheart,” your step brother calls to you, spreading his legs further across the sofa and patting his knee in invitation, “why don’t you come n’ sit with me and Moony for a bit, hey?”

You try to move towards them as confidently as possible, but your trembling hands and adverted gaze betrays you. You fall gracelessly into the arms of the shaggy-haired man, holding back a surprises giggle at the way his nose tickles against your neck.

“Isn’t she just the cutest, Moons?” You can feel the smirk of your step brother widen against your warmed cheeks, your embarrassment heightened by how he speaks about you like you’re not even in the room.

“She’s really something,” comes the drawl of the other man, his hand creeping up your exposed thigh, exploring the skin with languid strokes. Your body instinctively leans into his touch as his nimble fingers reach toward the hem of your skirt, simultaneously pushing up and shying away from his touch, “a shy one though, huh?”

“She’ll warm up to her soon enough, mate,” Sirius assures, one hand moving to boldly rest on your right breast, almost a show of his ownership of you, “only took her two days before she started crawling into my bed ‘nd begging for it,”

Remus makes a humming sound of approval at that, finally garnering eye contact with you and raising an eyebrow and tapping your thigh, waiting for your approval before diving his hand beneath your skirt, stroking his cold fingers up and down your uncovered pussy lips.

“No panties?” The grin on his face usurpes the disappointment in his tone. Sirius let’s out an incredulous scoff.

“Please, she hasn’t worn panties since the first day I fucked her,” his hand slips beneath your shirt and his fingers start flicking over your nipples, “always wants to be fucked now, the poor thing. She’ll probably get even more greedy now she’s got two of us,”

“Siri?” You crane your neck to finally make eye contact with him. Both boys cease their movements to watch you, intrigued by what you’d say while speaking for the first time in the night, “what- what do you mean two of us?”

“Well darling,” he smooths a kiss to the crown of your head, “moony over here needs someone to take care of him, doesn’t he? You don’t want him to get lonely, do you?”

You don’t even have to think about it; you shake your head with a pout. Remus seems nice, and his fingers are working wonders on your clit, his movements now resumed as Sirius talks.

“Well, I said that moony can fuck you sometimes, y’know, to help us all out,” he shrugs, spreading your legs further out on his lap so he can get a good glimpse of your pussy as Remus works it over.

“I promise I’ll be good to you, pretty girl,” the taller boy adjusts himself until his cheek rests against the inside of your thigh, so close to your cunt that his tongue scrapes across your clit with every word from his mouth, “so long as you follow my rules,”

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simpjaes · 19 days

Text

req by 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anon: im also back on my enhypen with two girls bullshit and today’s thought, featuring frat jake, is playing something like truth or dare at a party (i know, i know 😭) and he dares you to make out with jay’s girl .. i don’t mean to make him look like a weirdo but i have the feeling he’d like to watch (like… i think he’d be into lesbian porn….) 🤕

wc: 1k

tags: perv frat jake (definitely likes the idea of watching two women, it's fiction so he's allowed to be weird here on simpjaes), cuck-ish jay, drunk truth or dare, detailed descriptions of making out with a hot nameless girl, implied further sexual gameplay.

"Truth or dare?" Jake is practically crawling in his skin at this point, having hyped himself up for the past ten minutes in game waiting for the questions and dares to become just flirty enough that he doesn't look like the weird one.

After all, it's a fucking frat party. No one is playing truth or dare without the idea of someone either getting naked or fucking at some point by the end of it. At least when all sexes are involved anyway.

And he's looking at you when he asks. You smile mischievously, the alcohol in your system buzzing to the point you feel warm, confident, social, and fucking giddy at playing this game with him.

It's the first time you've been personally invited to one of these infamous frat parties too. Always hearing about the crazy nights and insane antics people get up to in this very house. You weren't exactly expecting to be in what you presume to be Jake's room with one of the other frat guys and his girlfriend either.

Still, in your drunken state, you feel flirty and excited to finally be invited. After weeks of small talk with Jake, you were starting to think he was just being nice. Until you were invited anyway. Until you noticed him sharing consistent side-eyes with his frat brother.

"Dare." You announce boldly, tipping back your cup and finishing off the drink before grabbing at Jakes. He happily lends you his cup while simultaneously stealing Jay's instead.

"Dick." Jay scoffs, tapping his girl's leg and pushing her from his lap (previous dare). "Gonna grab a few bottles before the game gets good," Jay continues, looking Jake square in the eye with a smirk. "Any requests?"

You, Jake, and Jay's girlfriend all offer up a "anything strong" before Jay sees himself out. Only for a moment, you suspect.

And when the door is closed and Jake is sitting, staring at two pretty drunk girls, all he can do is beam that charming ass smile at you before chuckling.

Jay would definitely be annoyed that he's not gonna wait for him to get back, but whatever. "Dare, you say?" Jake says in a half-hearted voice of concern. "You sure?"

You nod happily, sipping the last of the stolen drink and looking to your new friend, Jay's girl.

"Make out." Jake drops the words on you like it's nothing at all to be shocked at. And in a way, it's really not.

Again, frat party, drinks, whatever.

"With who?" You ask, silently and excitedly preparing yourself for him to present himself to you by tapping his lap or something much like Jay did previously for his girl.

But, well, you're not Jake's girl. As much as you'd very much like to be the arm candy of the most charming frat boy you've ever met. And he's not presenting himself.

You watch as his eyes shift from you to her. Back and force twice before that charming smile turns into a bottom-lip tugged between his teach.

"With each other. Make out." You look to her with a smile, entirely willing to put on a show considering she's very pretty. If she's down, so are you. And not entirely for the pleasure of Jake, or anyone else for that matter. Her lips are pretty, and her voice is tender. Quite cute when you watch her, drunk out of her mind but still entirely sweet like candy. She lends you a nod, cheeks flushing but licking her lips all the while as if to gloss them up for you. And so, you do, crawling across the floor of Jake's bedroom just to brace your hands on her shoulders and lean in to kiss her square on the lips. Her eyes beam up at you when you pull back with a cheeky smile, only to dip back in once more, twice more, and then you slide your hands to her jaw on either side of her face and really get in there.

Licking into her mouth, feeling her hands grip your waist and wildly run up and down up until she's blatantly grabbing your ass as she kisses you back with those sweet-alcohol tasting kisses.

"Holy shit." Jay's voice echoes through your ringing ears as you kiss his girlfriend, but you don't stop. Especially when she chuckles into the kiss and only pulls you closer, into her lap by the ass as she skews her head to kiss deeper.

"Check that shit out." Jake says, breath caught in his throat because truly, no matter how many times he sees two girls do this kind of thing in front of him, he can't fucking help himself. "Fuck yeah."

It's so hot for him to see two pretty girls, all breathless with their wet lips and pussies sitting so close together. Damn. Who care's if it's Jay's girlfriend? By the looks of it, Jay seems entirely into it too. And for a minute, you almost forgot that this was a dare. So, you pull back with a gentle smile at her. Landing one more kiss to her nose before scooting back and off of her lap. She looks at you through dark eyes after the act. As if the two of you are no longer just acquaintances, and you choose to take note of that for later. Surely you'll be seeing her again. Only after you've sat back and grabbed a new drink did you take note of the two men in the room. Jay appears to be a bit more touchy with his girlfriend now, you watch him pinch and pull at her with a drunken smile and little hidden whispers before you turn your attention to Jake.

God, you've heard of how fun the guy is. But fucking hell he's shameless. You see the bulge in his pants and the way he spreads his legs out wide with that smile on his face. Only briefly do you note the way he lays his hand across his lap, gently rubbing his knuckles along the length of his hidden cock before he speaks with a new voice.

"Come, sit." He croaks, voice deeper and almost velvety as he uses that same hand to tap his lap. "It's your turn babe, make it good." He follows up after you do exactly as he says, right against your ear, breath fanning your neck. And you can feel the way he intentionally twitches under your ass as a form of encouragement. And of course, you do make the next round even better than the last.

#enhypen smut #jake sim smut #hardthots #enhypen hard hours

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celtic-crossbow · 5 months

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 11

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; blood; injury; vomiting.

A/N: Another whumpful chapter. My little whumpy heart is happy. But some feely feel good moments too. And then some not so feely feel good. I don’t hate Andrea, I promise.

*Click here to be added to taglists.

You couldn’t begin to guess what time it was. Between caring for Daryl and vomiting every drop of water you’d tried to intake, you barely knew where you were anymore. You tossed a few sticks into the fire to keep it burning low before lowering unsteadily to your knees beside the archer.

Daryl hadn’t regained consciousness since his one-sided conversation earlier in the night. He was restless, quietly groaning; head turning back and forth with a pained grimace etched onto his features. His breaths came in shallow pants while his pulse palpitated wildly. His skin was still cool. You found yourself petting his hair and shushing him gently. Somehow, that felt okay.

You ran a hand through your hair and exhaled shakily. How were you supposed to get both of you back safely the next morning when you were rapidly weakening and Daryl could hardly stand? What if you couldn’t even get him to rouse? Slapping your palms against the gravel, you forced yourself to your feet and began pacing.

You were yearning for your father’s advice; missing him to a debilitating degree. For all the mistakes he’d humbly own up to, the man had never steered you wrong. He was never harsh, always finding a way to ensure you were laughing through your tears.

“Perk up, peanut. Nothing’s that bad! When life gives you lemons—”

“I hate lemonade, daddy.”

“Forget lemonade! Why are you taking food from a stranger?”

“You’re so corny.”

“But you’re laughing. Mission accomplished.”

You wiped away a tear and smiled. You had been so lucky to have a father like him: patient, kind, funny, stern when he needed to be but never cruel. You stilled your steps and turned your gaze toward Daryl. On the surface, the hunter seemed to be the opposite of everything your father had been. But you had been granted the smallest glimpse through a crack in the archer’s self-preserving armor.

When you were so incredibly sick in the woods, every touch had been gentle. Every syllable had been soft. Daryl was capable of tenderness and— while he may never be like your father —you easily believed the archer would be a wonderful dad in his own Daryl way.

You sat down with your back against the tree, watching Daryl sleep. Fierce determination settled against your heart, smothering out the panic that always hid away there. You would get you both out. If you had to drag Daryl up the rocky slope tied to your back, you would persevere. You were all three going to survive this.

You stayed in that spot, absorbing all the courage and strength the universe was offering. It wasn’t a supernatural event, but a personal battle against the weakness you had been allowing yourself to wallow in since the attack on your camp. Daryl was something in your life. More than the father of your baby. A friend? It didn’t matter. You needed him to be okay.

As the sun began to rise and the fire burned out, you knew it was time to start the literal uphill battle toward getting back to camp. Taking a deep breath, you held it for a heartbeat as you looked at Daryl. The man was anything but weak but he was so pale, pain written plainly on his face. Exhaling, you crawled the short distance to where he lay, unsure how to approach this.

“Daryl.” A gentle shake to his shoulder. Another whisper of his name with another simultaneous joggle. His eyes clenched, brows drawing together. He was in pain. It was obvious. Still, you had no choice but to insist. “Come on, Daryl. Open your eyes.”

He did. “Wha’?” The archer immediately tried to sit up, but the wound’s sting held him in place. “Fuck.” You absently brushed your fingertips across his jaw.

“Do you remember what happened?” You asked sincerely, helping him into a sitting position. It was a slow, painful endeavor but a success nonetheless. With an arm wrapped tightly around his middle, he pinned you down with a look just shy of a glare.

“Thought I remembered ‘til I saw ya here.” He adjusted how he was sitting with only the slightest hint of discomfort. “But then I knew it couldn’ be real cause ya ain’t dumb enough ta come out here alone.” Once he settled, Daryl arched an eyebrow at you.

“Color me an idiot, then.” You shrugged with a feigned smile. He was clearly unimpressed.

“Ya gotta stop thinkin’ s’jus’ you anymore.” Your eyes followed his right hand as it moved from his midsection toward yours but pulled back quickly without touching. “I ain’t worth riskin’ our kid.”

Your heart stuttered. It was the first time he had acknowledged the baby as both his and yours. You decided that pointing it out was not in either of your best interests.

“You’re important too, you know.” You argued instead. A retort was on the tip of his tongue, his mouth opening but you gave him no time to argue. “Here, you need to eat.” You grabbed his left wrist and plopped the apple onto his palm. “You really need more than that. I could reheat the beans from last night?”

“Don’ need ta do all that. Jus’ give ‘em here.” The spoon you had used was still in the can when you passed it to him. You sipped water from the canteen as he ate, watching him scrutinize every inch of the area you’d soon be climbing. Using the spoon, he pointed. “That yer rope?”

“Well, technically it belongs to a moron that fell into a ravine on top of his own bolt.” Your grin met his deadpan expression. “I swiped it from your tent. Had to cut it to stop you from becoming walker chow though. Sorry.”

He simply shrugged. “Ya ain’t eatin’?”

Shit. You were truly hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I ate.” Not a lie. Technically.

“If you have to say ‘technically’, you’re already in trouble.”

Your father’s voice echoed in your head. Goddamnit. “I can’t eat anything right now. Given all the shit we’re about to do, I shouldn’t have drank anything either.”

“They couldn’ find the meds?” He looked stricken and you found that caused an ache in your chest that you didn’t care to ever feel again.

“I don’t know. I left before they got back.”

His face morphed into an annoyed scowl. “Yer a idiot.” He grumbled. He continued to eat, though he seemed more hesitant with every bite. Did he feel bad eating in front of you? “So let me wrap my head ‘round this.” That calm tone that was about to build up into his pissed off rampaging. “I can hardly move n’ yer gon’ be upchuckin’ ev’ry ten seconds, but we’re s’posed ta climb outta here?”

“More or less.” You shrugged.

“Wha’ could go wrong?” He grimaced at the empty can before tossing it aside. He stared at the canteen you held out to him but eventually took it.

“I’ve got another, so drink up.”

Daryl hummed and then drained every drop from the container.

You stuffed it in your bag and slipped your arms through the straps. “We gotta go. Let’s get you up.” You stood only to crouch behind him, snaking your arms under his to lock your hands on his chest while carefully avoiding the wound. His muscles tensed at the contact. “This is gonna suck but on three?” He mumbled ‘fine’ under his breath and planted his hands on the ground to help push himself. “One, two, three!”

There was a cut off shout on the journey upright. He staggered backward but you planted your feet firmly to stabilize him. He was panting and swaying, both arms wrapped around himself tightly but he was taking most of his weight.

“You good?” You asked, sliding your hands to hold just above hips, silently giving the bandages a once over for any fresh blood.

“M’fine.” He managed to breathe. He didn’t sound fine but you’d give him the benefit of the doubt. Very slowly, you pulled your hands away, ensuring he could remain standing.

Next order of business was strapping his crossbow onto your back. It took some time and maneuvering but you finally managed.

“I can take that. Ya don’ need ta be carryin’ all that shit.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Walk over here and you can have it.” Your eyes held a challenge, and you were certain he would rise to the bait, even knowing it wouldn’t end the way he wanted. He managed one step before he staggered. “That’s what I thought.” Confident he wouldn’t try again, you pulled and shifted the weapon’s strap while you studied the hill you two were about to tackle. “Jesus, this thing isn’t nice to sore tits.”

“Why yer tits sore?”

You found him looking adorably confused. “It’s a pregnancy thing.” His eyebrows raised, his mouth forming a silent ‘o’. “Welp, let’s get started.” Daryl didn’t argue this time when you ducked under his arm. He needed as much strength as he could save for climbing. “Think you can make it to where the rope ends?”

The hunter narrowed his eyes. “Yeah.” He didn’t look any more confident than he sounded.

“Okay, I’m gonna stay behind you until we get there. Then I’ll go first.” He nodded without argument. He must have felt awful if he wasn’t even trying to suggest something else. He grunted with the first uphill step, right arm encircling his middle while he breathed through the pain. “You okay?”

“Ain’t really got a choice.”

Unfortunately, he was right. You couldn’t leave him to fetch help and couldn’t drag him up the hillside. He managed another step, your hand reaching out to lie against the small of his back as you followed. Hopefully, you’d be able to stop him from falling.

Halfway to the end of the rope, you barely received any warning before you pitched to the side and vomited all the water you had drank.

“Oops.” You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, catching Daryl’s gaze from over his shoulder. “I spilled it.” He rolled his eyes and continued upward while you smirked at his back. Things sucked. Making light of it all wasn’t going to change that.

After another block of several minutes, Daryl could almost reach out and touch the rope. He gripped a sturdy branch and pulled himself up further, falling short and curling inward with a sound dangerously close to a sob.

“Daryl?” You grabbed the nearest rock and hauled yourself up beside him. “Are you okay?” He wasn’t. That much was clear from the way he visibly trembled and the tension you could see in his jaw. “Let’s rest here for a minute.”

“M’fine. Keep goin’.”

“Daryl—”

“Said m’fine!” He snapped, beginning the ascent once again. You glowered at his back for a moment more before deciding it was pointless to argue. Once you made it to the rope, you’d take the lead and control the pace. You’d damn well make him slow down.

“Wha’ now?” He panted, holding tightly to an unearthed root to keep himself from tumbling. You didn’t answer, but began to tie the rope around his midsection. “Wha’ the— ya need this more than me.”

“Shut up.” You finished the knot and reached above to give the rope a firm tug. Without a word, you climbed your way above him and grabbed onto the rope. You were certain you could make it just holding on and climbing. Your stomach was trying to revolt once again but at least you’d have the security of not falling as long as you held on tight. Hopefully, you wouldn’t accidentally puke on his head.

With concern clearly on your face, you continued to look back. Daryl was taking significantly longer, breaths coming fast and jaw clenched. He was clearly struggling to keep quiet so you wouldn’t stop. Idiot.

“You doing okay back there?”

“Jus’ go.” He snapped, hissing through his teeth immediately after. If you could make it fast enough, maybe you could pull the rope to give him some support. The thought had no sooner crossed your mind before you bent forward and dry heaved, hardly able to maintain your grip. “Hey. Ya alrigh’?”

You nodded, keeping still for a moment. The world was spinning. You couldn’t risk climbing. Your baby was more important than attempting to race your way to the ledge. If you fell…

A cool hand came to rest on the middle of your back, the vibrations of the tremors his body was suffering were felt clearly through your shirt. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He was worried for you and for the baby. It was a new but not unwelcome feeling to realize you weren’t unimportant to him. He didn’t see you as an incubator. Being friends that happened to share a child wasn’t such a terrible feeling.

“I’m okay.” You pulled air in through your nose and pushed it out through your mouth. The breathing helped alleviate the nausea and any panic that may have accompanied it. “Let’s keep going. We need to get you back.”

“Need ta get you back too.” He argued while removing his hand. He started to climb again before you were ready to move. There was no way you were letting him above you. If he fell, he’d take you with him and you wouldn’t have the rope to slow your descent. You scrambled quickly and carelessly, making it up to at least be beside him. And just in time.

The rock Daryl placed his left foot on came loose from the soil. He let out a curse as he began to fall but you were quick, twisting at the waist to grab hold of his wrist. The sudden movements irritated his wound, your heart clenching when he cried out and pressed his forehead against the ground.

“C’mon. Ya done half. Stop bein’ such a pussy.” He muttered to himself.

You almost let the laughter that bubbled up force its way from your mouth. Almost. It was only slightly difficult not to tease him when he was in such a shape. You kept a keen eye on him as he repositioned and found a solid foothold. When he looked up at you and nodded, you noticed how badly he was sweating and he was growing even more pale. Reluctantly, you released your hold but kept your hand outstretched just in case.

“You good?”

There was a look that crossed his face, like he was about to say something snarky, but it faded just as quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, m’good.” Upon turning back to your own climb, you smiled to yourself.

It was unsurprising that you reached the top first, keeping the rope in hand as you climbed the last several feet to the ledge. Once you had hauled yourself up, you shed your bag and his crossbow before you sat close to the tree and pulled up all the slack. If he were to fall now you’d need to brace your legs against the trunk to be able to hold him without being dragged off yourself. Little by little you pulled as he got closer. From where you were positioned, you couldn’t see him so the rope was the only clue you had as to where he might be.

“Daryl, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer but was still moving, albeit slower. Until he appeared to stop. Shit. Taking a risk, you let go and crawled to the edge. The archer was just below the tree root. His arms were trembling, his forehead was pressed against the dirt, and worst of all, there was fresh blood spreading across the back of his shirt.

“Daryl. Daryl, answer me.”

“Jus’… jus’ need…a minute.” He slurred. Your worry compounded, a sick feeling in your gut that had nothing to do with that hullabaloo word that Hershel had given you. That god awful feeling was constricting your chest, making it hard to form any sort of coherent thought, let alone a plan. Eyes on the archer, you could see his fingers loosening around the limb and rock that were keeping him there.

“Daryl!” You barked loudly. It had the intended effect. His body visibly jerked and he lifted his head, dazed eyes searching until they found you. You had to make a choice: try to pull him up or go down to get him. Your hands pushed you up and allowed you to spin with your legs over the edge. Leaning forward the slightest bit, you started down as you had the day before, sliding your ass against the ground.

“Y/N!” Daryl’s voice, though angry, held very little ardor. He was barely hanging on, literally and figuratively. “Don’… don’ ya dare come…down here.”

“Try and stop me.” You knew it was a risk. Frankly, you were fed up with risking your baby but you told Daryl he was important, too. “You can yell at me later.” Your gaze continued to flit between your path and the hunter. He had rested the side of his face against the ground again and was trying to watch you through eyes that were fighting like hell to close.

Seconds later, his hand started to fall away from the rock, just for yours to push it back down. His grip instantly tightened. Your other hand moved to grasp his chin.

“Daryl.” His gaze was unfocused but he was still holding himself there. “Daryl, I need you to climb. I’ll help you but I need you to try.” When you had to shake his head a little, you felt a tickle on your cheek just as your lip quivered. “Please.” He remained still, leaving you envisioning him letting go. If he fell, it might not kill him but you would never be able to get him back to this point. You were running out of ideas. Adjusting yourself to reach across him and hold his left hand around the limb, you grabbed the right and pressed his palm against your stomach. “If not for you or me, try for them!”

There was nothing for a moment more, long enough for you to lose hope. You let your head fall forward against the back of his shoulder and cried in earnest, knowing you’d have to climb up eventually.

His fingers twitched against your belly. He started to move, slowly. Very slowly. Hell, sloths moved faster. You reeled back, observing, ready to do whatever he needed. Right then, you just started whispering encouragement as he reached for something to continue pulling himself upward.

“That’s it. Keep going. I’m right here.” You climbed beside him, careful of where you put your feet. You would reach out each time you moved up, just placing your palm on his back to assure him you were real and you were there. “Almost, Daryl.” The two of you had passed the root that held the rope when the trembling worsened but he didn’t stop. His teeth were bared, clenching so tightly that you thought they might shatter.

When he was close enough, you scrambled past him and to the edge. You couldn’t pull his full weight, but you knew he’d rather fall than pull you over. If he couldn’t fight his way up, he’d let go. It was a terrible fact. You reached for him— over his shoulders —grabbing under his arms to give him some support when he dug his fingers into the dirt to drag himself up the rest of the way.

You both collapsed onto the flat ground beside the tree, panting and staring up at the canopy. You rolled your head and smiled at him, though he seemed to be only halfway present. Your smile was still in place when you looked back up at the cloudless blue sky.

“Well, that was fun.” You chuckled.

Daryl groaned and weakly lifted the arm closest to you and placed his hand over your face. Somehow, that only made you laugh harder.

The two of you were worse for wear by a mere hour into the journey back. You were in a violent cycle of drinking water only to vomit it up moments later while Daryl could barely stay on his feet, stumbling and catching himself against a tree if there happened to be one. If not, you’d stagger over and let him use your arm to lever his way back to his feet.

Neither of you had said a word. You were dehydrated and in desperate need of sleep. Daryl was actively bleeding, growing paler by the moment. You forced him to drink when you did, paying as much attention as possible to the amount left. The next time you doubled over, you found him leaning heavily against a tree, watching you.

“G’on ahead.” He made a weak gesture and began sliding down until his ass met the dirt. You began shedding your bag and his weapon while shuffling over to him, dropping them both within reach before you mimicked his descent and ended up shoulder to shoulder.

“I didn’t go through all that shit just to leave you behind now.” The canteen was right on top when you opened the pack. You held it out to him while you grabbed the remaining apple. Daryl struggled with the lid while you took the smallest of bites, praying that what Lori had said about the fruit alleviating nausea was true. You traded after that, but the canteen never made it to your mouth nor did the apple make it to his. His head fell back against the tree and yours to his shoulder.

“Shouldn’a come…out here in…the first place.”

You’d never tell him no one else was willing, though he probably suspected it. “Told you. You’re important too.” You sighed and closed your eyes. You wouldn’t sleep. Both of your senses were dulled, which made the two of you a walker buffet if they approached undetected.

Daryl snorted, though it sounded more like a stunted exhale through his nose. “Yeah. Righ’.”

You wanted to glare at him but you were comfortable. “Shut up. You are to me.”

“Why?”

“Besides the obvious?” You lifted your head and busied yourself checking his wound. “You just are. When you’re not being a hotheaded jackass, you’re actually pretty good company.” You looked up just in time to see him avert his eyes. He apparently still had enough blood in his body to color his cheeks. Your head found his shoulder again. “Not to mention, you’re a great lay.”

“Stop.”

Your smirk remained while you forced yourself to drink a few sips, hearing him bite into the apple. Aside from dehydrating and slowly bleeding to death, the moment was nice. You couldn’t help but think back to Carol informing you that Daryl didn't like to be touched. Yet here you were using him as a makeshift pillow. Maybe it was a pregnancy perk or maybe he really did consider you a friend. He was slowly making it obvious that he cared. You’d take what you could get as long as the two of you could manage to co-parent.

When you shifted to put away the canteen and reached for the remainder of the apple, you found his head hanging with the fruit loosely held in his palm. Checking his breathing and pulse, both were not at dangerous levels but he needed help and soon. You took the apple and put it away.

You would let him rest a while longer before you’d be forced to press on if you were going to make it back before sundown. He became your pillow for a third time while you kept watch and listened to his shallow panting, just content with the fact that he was still breathing.

“We’re almost there.” You all but groaned, your hand clutching your rolling stomach while Daryl stumbled along beside you. He had taken his crossbow a while ago when you fell to your knees while vomiting. He was holding the strap and dragging it along behind him.

He grunted in reply, pale face grimacing as if each step was more painful than the last. Probably is. You clutched Sophia’s doll against your hip. They would all probably be so busy fussing over the state the two of you returned in to listen if you told them to check your pack.

When you walked out of the trees and into the field, the house and camp in view, you could have cried. Well, maybe you couldn’t have. It depended on how dehydrated you were at that point.

You let your steps slow to stay close to Daryl in case the adrenaline that got him this far suddenly diminished with the relief of being so very close. There was a shout in the distance and you smiled as four of them began running toward you.

We made it.

You allowed your steps to slow and then stop as Rick, Shane, T-Dog, and Glen closed in… with guns drawn?!

“Is that Daryl?” Glenn exclaimed. “Y/N?”

“S’the third time ya’ve pointed that thing at my head! Ya gon’ pull the trigger or wha’?”

“Third time?” You asked, beyond confused. Before anyone could say anything else, a shot rang out and Daryl crumpled to the ground. Rick was yelling but you only had eyes for the archer. You stumbled over and fell beside him, holding your breath. When his eyes fluttered open and he reached toward a gash above his temple, you forced out a sob and laid your head against his shoulder.

Hands encircled your midsection and gently pulled you back, T-Dog’s voice in your ear. “It’s okay. They’ve got him.”

“I’s kiddin’…” Daryl slurred as he was pulled to his feet between Rick and Shane. His weary gaze met yours before his eyes rolled back and he slumped.

Rick must have seen the look on your face because he was already bringing two fingers to the archer’s neck. He nodded at you and your legs nearly gave out. You gave T-Dog a smile and patted his arm, getting your feet underneath you to follow along beside Rick. Glenn was hovering in your peripheral. Probably a good thing. As soon as Daryl was being seen to, you were sure to collapse yourself.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, is he dead?”

You turned to find Andrea running toward the group of you, your tired eyes narrowing. She wasn’t a great shot, that much you knew. Surely it wasn’t…

“Unconscious.” Rick answered. “You just grazed him.”

“You?” You hissed, bringing everyone to a stop. “Who the hell is letting you shoot long range?!”

Clearly offended, Andrea took a step toward you. “It was an accident. It didn’t kill him.” She vaguely gestured toward the man that you had risked your life— your baby —to bring back alive.

“You bitch.” You sucked on your teeth, digging deep for some semblance of control.

“Seriously? I went out of my way to be nice to you. I think we’re square here.”

You nodded. “Square. You think we’re square.”

“Come on, Y/N.” Rick lifted his arm away from Daryl’s hand on his shoulder in an attempt to usher you along. Spinning to your right, you snatched Rick’s gun from Glenn, switched off the safety, and had Andrea in your sights before anyone could blink.

The blonde’s hands raised while voices escalated in panic. All the shocked expressions were meeting one another, clueless as to how to handle the situation. You fully expected to be taken down and locked up somewhere.

But no one touched you.

After a very intense moment, you flicked the safety on and held the gun back out to the kid.

“Square would be grazing your pretty cheek or maybe a little bit of ear. Unlike you, I was raised with a gun. I rarely miss.” You sneered. “Then we’d be square.” Panting from the exertion, you staggered, your own adrenaline running on fumes.

“What’re you gonna do with her?” Andrea demanded, pulling against Dale’s arm when Rick and Shane dragged Daryl past her. “She aimed a gun at me! What’re you gonna do?”

Lori wrapped an arm around your back, “She didn’t shoot you, Andrea. We can talk about this later. Come on, let’s get you inside.” You saw Maggie approaching, felt her take your other arm as the world tilted. Somewhere past the darkness that was looming you heard:

“Guys! Isn’t this Sophia’s?”

Taglist:

@stitchintimefan @thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @deansapplepie @feral4daryl @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @1ivinqdeadqir1main @loganlostitall @sshewonders @callmeyn @queenmizuki @crazyunsexycool @zehiiro @sunnybunnyy2 @gimalo135 @lothiriel9 @lilyevanstan1325 @gutsby @isakyakiisak @in-this-minute @eljaynosine_triphosphate @hutchersonsgurl @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bananafire11 @graciepies @alaaabdaldeen @georgiadixon @mfnqueen1 @esgoraths @fanngirl19 @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @s0urw00lf @miyah-hearts @the-lonely-abyss @bymailin @angelbunny222 @m0ss-g0blin @d0p3ys-delusions

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whorediaries-09 · 24 days

Note

i‘m craving rom weasley smut and im so happy you’re taking requests!!😩

how about ron x girlfriend!reader having passionate and hottttttt sex in the kitchen one night while they’re visiting his family. they have to be quiet because one thing about their relationship is, that they’re almost never casting a quiet spell because it’s just so exciting if there’s a possibility of being caught🤭

just imagine her on the counter and him pounding her and it’s soooo hard to be quiet!! and apparently they weren’t really that quiet because the next morning fred says „how’d you two sleep?“ with suuuuuch a big smirk on his face👀

ughhhh i love this request so much ⭐❗ ron was actually my first fictional crush. hope you like this!

heaven and back;

pairing- ron weasley x reader warning(s)- 18+ content. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- it's like that one scene in where harry and ginny were caught kissing and george was like 'morning'-

little train

' she went to heaven and back now everything is turning to black.'

the ache in your core began during dinner, when ron had been eating with one hand, and the other one buried deep into you. he slowly rubbed circles upon your clit, pumping his fingers in and out simultaneously. it made you squirm in your seat, and he surely enjoyed watching you hold back the pretty sounds from your mouth as you tired not to combust in front of his family and your friends.

but he had teased you, all through out dinner, 30 minutes of pure torture, just to leave you withering with anger and not make you finish. every time you'd feel the coil about to snap, you'd clench your thighs and the walls of your cunt and he would draw out his hand.

and by the look on his face, you could understand he did it on purpose. he enjoyed the game. two could play the game, you decided, so you changed into your 'night clothes' to join harry, ron and hermione for their usual conversation after dinner.

it was a soft silk night slip dress in burgundy. it was lined with black lace. it ended just above your knees. knowing molly wouldn't allow any of the girls to sleep along with the boys, you'd decided to wear the dress, to be a tease and take a little sweet revenge.

it had resulted in an awkward boner and a distraction to him. he sat painfully, the ache in his groin prominent, the bulge of his pants a few minutes away from being visible. he was too immersed in trying to hide his bulge that eve hermione beat him at chess. with an excuse of being tired, he called off the night, going to sleep.

you had thoroughly enjoyed the redness of his face and how visibly hot he was. if it weren't for going to bed, you were sure he'd turn into a tomato with steam rising from his ears.

but the ache in your core persisted, and try as hard you might, you couldn't get off yourself. so that's why you were awake in the middle of the night, dreaming of your boyfriend's fingers knuckles deep into you, as he wrecked your body, putting you away from the pain.

the ache travelled from your core to your throat, as you slowly gulped. you were thirsty. and the last jug of water was emptied by ginny. so you decided to be crawl down the kitchen, drink some water and sneak back right in.

initially, that had been your plan.

you surely didn't expect yourself to be sitting on the kitchen counter with ron's cock buried deep into your cunt as he pounds into you. he wraps your shaking thighs around his waist, letting him feel better, letting him go deeper.

'k-keep quiet,' he whispers into your ear. the slow sensuous way he speaks contrasts with the rough pace he wrecks you. you nod incoherently, burying your mouth into the crook of his neck, your mouth clasping onto the skin, trying to silent the moans that beg to be echo from your lips.

'just cast the s-shit- spell ron-' you say, as he removes your face from his neck, holding you by the throat. he presses onto your arteries slightly, letting the oxygen flow into your head admonish. he grins, pressing his sweaty temple against yours,

'no honey, what's the fun in that?'

the big pleading eyes of yours does nothing but turn him on further, as he rubs circles on your clit, making your toes curl and back arch. he hits your sweet spot just right, and paired with the the ruthless circles on your clit, the coil bubbles intensely within you, wrecking you slowly.

'f-fuck, so g-good. just there, ron please don't stop,' you scream, shame thrown out the window. he breathes you in, letting out a small gasp as your walls convulses around him.

'i don't fucking plan to stop,' he promises, chuckling darkly. you bite your lip, feeling the nerves tug your veins, the sensations colliding to create a beautiful ecstasy that bubbles within you, shimmying through every crevice of your body.

you scream his name, chained with obscene words as you release, the euphoria of the orgasm gripping you slowly, ruining you slowly. he releases himself deep inside you, his white hot orgasm painting your insides.

he brandishes your face with kisses, helping you off the counter and helping you clean up. with a final kiss on your cheek, he wishes you a goodnight as he descends to sleep.

the morning breeze is cool. your back still hurts from the weird juxtaposition you'd been last night, getting your brain fucked out by the one who has his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body.

he's warm, the result of wearing the jumper his mum had knitted him last christmas. his fingers are wrapped around his cup of freshly brewed tea. he sips on it slowly, letting the taste wander on his tastebuds, enjoying the silent peace.

it doesn't long though, when his older brother, fred shows up. he's chewing on a piece of bread, a big smile- no smirk on his face.

'what are ya so jolly about, this morning?' you ask, humming slowly. he stands beside ron, pressing his shoulder upon his.

'well good morning to you too. it's not a crime to be jolly now is it?' he winks. you chuckle.

'good morning, fred,' ron grumbles, rolling his eyes. fred's smirk deepens as he replies,

'good morning ickle ronniekins. how did the both you sleep?'

he knew.

****************************************************

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(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.

#ron weasley smut #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley #ron weasley x you #harry potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #ron weasley fanfiction #harry potter x y/n #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley fanfic

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deepouterspacecandy · 28 days

Text

Ex Machina

I received so many requests for period sex with Abby. This is a sensitive topic, difficult to write with the intention of fitting a wide array of readers, as our experiences with our bodies are all so different. Anyhow, this is my interpretation of Abby and intimacy during your time of the month. I hope I did it justice. Thank you for reading. 18+ only.

From the moment you crawled out of bed, a stubborn headache has plagued you, a dull throb pulsating behind your eyes. Sunlight floods your apartment, drenching the lush green leaves of all your plants while simultaneously intensifying the pounding in your head.

You glance out into the stadium and spot Abby leading the new recruits through drills on the field below. All week they’ve been running late, and although she’s usually home by now, it seems like today will be another exception.

Perhaps it’s for the best since you’re teetering on the brink of a bad mood.

You realize you should eat the breakfast she’s prepared for you, but your stomach is churning. Exhaustion burdens every inch of your body, as if your bones themselves are weary, the brain fog and bloat leaving you miserable.

While some months are more challenging than others, your period is never a pleasant ordeal. Growing up, the focus was on survival rather than on understanding the intricacies of womanhood and how to navigate them. Now, the demands of being actively involved in the WLF have made it difficult for you to prioritize and manage your health. It doesn’t help that your superiors interpret any actions that undermine your performance or distract you from the objective as a sign of weakness.

In this arena, Abby is an absolute godsend. With her background as a trained medic, and raised by a phenomenal doctor, she is also a highly empathetic partner to you.

Next to your breakfast, Abby has thoughtfully prepared a thermos of ginger tea, its peppery aroma offering respite from your nausea as you drink it down.

Abby’s concern about how much you’ve been pushing yourself has reached a peak, and given how awful you feel, you’re starting to see her point.

This time around, it’s pure luck that your days off align perfectly with your desperate need for them. Counting your blessings, you drag yourself to the shower, hopeful that the hot water will alleviate some of your agony.

----------------------------------------

Abby strolls through the door in the late afternoon, and you immediately catch a whiff of citrus and jasmine as she places a vase of fresh flowers on your bedside table. They’re a gesture of peace to make up for being gone so long, but she’ll always find an excuse to bring you fresh flowers.

“I’m sorry it ran so late today,” she says, letting out an exasperated sigh as she kicks off her boots. “God, what a shitshow. Let’s run away together, yeah?”

“Ask me again in a few days,” you say.

While you dig through your shared drawers, she observes you swapping your pajamas for one of her roomiest shirts. The corners of her mouth lift in a devilish grin, giving her an air of playful wickedness.

“Still feeling rough?” she asks, plunking herself onto your bed.

“I think it’s worse this time around,” you explain, your hands cradling your sore stomach, finding comfort in the soft fabric against your skin. “Everything aches, and I’m so bloated. It really sucks.”

“Well, you look beautiful,” Abby says.

You go the extra mile to give her the most over-the-top eye roll you can manage. She’s a sweetheart, but her words can’t mask the overwhelming sense of detachment you feel from your body, intensifying your self-doubt.

“I’m serious,” she says, reaching out to pull you closer. “Have I ever lied to you?”

You can’t recall a time when she’s made you doubt her—the integrity of this woman is unwavering. Her straightforwardness knows no bounds, often leaving others taken aback. It is ultimately one of the traits you admire the most in her.

“I don’t feel very beautiful, I guess.”

Abby’s fingertips glide down the back of your thighs, tickling the sensitive skin behind your knees, before trailing back up to toy with the hem of your shirt. Her shirt, technically speaking.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks.

Her question carries a familiar undertone, one you’ve been meaning to address for a while now.

During Abby’s cycle, her sexual desire intensifies to an unprecedented level, and she’s insatiable.

One night, after your shift let out early, you walked in on her. The blonde wisps of hair framing her face were curled with sweat as she touched herself under a blanket on the couch. You recall vividly her delirious gaze, head tilted back on the plush armrest as she rode the waves of her pleasure, filling your apartment with the sweetest sounds.

It was in the early phases of your relationship, and you were so surprised when you entered the room that you hesitated—torn between quietly leaving to let her finish or offering to help her. Luckily, she decided on your behalf.

Instead of panicking and hurriedly covering up her deed, Abby continued without missing a beat—beckoning you to join her. It was one of the most sensual experiences of your life, and the memory of it still makes your heart race.

But for you, it’s different.

It’s a constant battle of messiness, discomfort, and frustration. When your hormones are fluctuating and you feel a spike of arousal, the thought of Abby seeing you in that state halts your excitement.

In the past, she mentioned how her lifestyle influences her body’s bleeding patterns. She attributes her active lifestyle and high stress levels to a lighter flow. But she also understands that certain conditions are beyond control for many women, affecting their relationship with their cycle and the way their body reacts to it.

“How the heck do you do it?” you ask, your fingers connecting with hers as you delicately flip her hands over to trace the deep lines etched on her palm. “You get so confident.”

Every day, without fail, you find yourself entranced by the beauty of her ethereal blue eyes as she seems to peer directly into your soul. There’s a special intimacy in truly knowing someone, beyond the flaws and all the fears.

She has a keen sense of what you’re grappling with, often before you can articulate it.

Her brow quirks as she rakes her teeth over her pouty bottom lip.

“Horny, you mean?” she smirks.

“Is that what it is for you?”

“Not always,” she explains, as her fingers move to brush against the front of your thighs, igniting a tingling warmth between them. “But I listen to what my body tells me. It’s how I heal.”

“What does your body tell you?” you ask.

“It depends,” she says, looking up at you through her soft lashes. “Sometimes it tells me to rest—other times, I need a little more than that. But I have bad days, too.”

You reflect on your relationship with your body and how Abby’s presence has transformed your self-perception over the years. She empowers you to find security in your own skin, even when you’re clawing the walls of your existence.

Even on the toughest days to practice self-love, she’s right there by your side, offering that extra boost to keep you going.

“It doesn’t gross you out, the thought of touching me when I’m like this?”

Abby lets out a surprised chuckle, gently placing her hands on your hips for a reassuring squeeze.

“Baby,” she says with an air of certainty. “There’s nothing you can do that would ever disgust me. This just reminds me how much of a badass you are. I’m a pretty big fan, if you haven’t noticed.”

You nod in acceptance as your fingers weave into her hair, gently tugging the long braid that rests on the nape of her neck. She fixes her busy gaze on you, brimming with an unmistakable and sincere affection, patiently awaiting your next move.

“It fucking hurts,” you say.

“Inside?” she asks.

“Everywhere,” you whisper.

Her lips meet the swollen part of your stomach as she leans forward, pressing kisses from your belly button to your hips. Her methodical nature shines through, ensuring she leaves no tender spot untouched.

When she glances up at you again, her eyes are heavy with hunger.

“Do you want me to make it better?”

It’s a lot to consider, and she watches you closely, anticipating your reaction as you try to process it all. If it bothers you, it will surely bother her, too—but can the reverse be true? If you have a pleasant experience, is it possible that Abby will also have a good time?

“Can we sleep on it?” you ask. “I’m just, you know—worried, I guess.”

Abby invites you to sit on her lap and when you oblige, she snuggles into the curve of your neck, sighing happily.

“Of course we can.”

Noticing your musing, she leans back to get a solid look at you. When your eyes meet, she crinkles her nose, a silent, impish signal she frequently uses to let you know she’s with you, even from across the room.

“What’s going on in that pretty head, huh?” she asks.

“I’m just glad you’re wearing dark pants right now,” you snort. “This cup thingy you got for me is working okay, though.”

“Well, thank God for that!” she huffs. “What would I ever do with bloodstains on my pants—can you imagine? Not this girl.”

“You’re on a roll today, aren’t you?”

Abby’s tongue darts out, lingering at the corner of her mouth until you dig your fingers into the ticklish spot at the small of her back, causing her to squirm with laughter. She quickly unravels under your ministrations, her voice transforming into something high and wild as she reprimands you through wheezing breaths.

“See, I warned you about teaching me how to lift weights!” you giggle, your grip on her wrists unforgiving as you pin her hands behind her. “Game over, Anderson.”

“You think so?” she chuckles breathlessly. “Hey—can I show you something?”

“You can try!”

Abby regains control of her hands and flips you onto your back with such ease it renders you utterly defenseless.

“Now what?” she asks.

She has you trapped, pressing your body and hands firmly against the mattress, careful to avoid your abdomen. It gives you an advantage, an edge to steal the upper hand, and with a sudden burst of energy, you buck into her, entangling your legs with hers in a fierce grapple. By the end of your wrestling match, your muscles burn from exertion, your focus shifting solely to the simmer of adrenaline working its way down your spine.

You leave behind any awareness of your physical state or appearance in favour of being in her arms, and she’s delighted to have you there.

Her rugged hands rest on your belly, rising and falling in sync with your breathing, and you’re weightless. The pain that had been radiating at your core all day has subsided, the niggling headache lifting from your temples as Abby works out the tension at the base of your skull with her fingertips.

Prominent veins pulse along her powerful arms in thick blue vines and as you trace them, her nostrils flare. The most innate manifestation of life and simply being alive underneath your touch.

“Let’s grab some dinner, yeah?” Abby pants, dropping a playful, squeaking kiss between your brows. “I’m starved. I need sustenance.”

“What else is new?” you tease. “You’re my God and my freaking machine.”

“Quit beating me up then,” she groans, a smile dancing on her lips. “If you build up my appetite, it’s only fair to replenish me. Do you want me to waste away or what?”

“Listen to you!”

She turns her face away, attempting to hide her jubilance.

“Bullying me—using up all my energy,” she says, jutting out her bottom lip. “Poor Abby is what they all say. You should hear them!”

“You literally started it,” you blurt. “I’m so done with you.”

Before you can roll off the bed, she quickly snatches you up and buries herself against your chest. Trying to suppress your triumph, a whirlwind of flutters spins between your ribs, like a miniature tornado poised to absorb everything in its path.

“Please don’t ever be done with me,” Abby murmurs. “Okay?”

Tendrils of soft hair spill out from her braid, and you can’t resist the urge to twist the golden threads around your finger, stroking her freckled shoulders with your other hand.

“Forever is a long time,” you murmur.

“It sure doesn’t feel like it,” she says, wrapping herself around you.

----------------------------------------

After months of waiting, the chow hall is finally serving your favourite meal, and you’re in a state of pure bliss as you savour it with your friends and comrades.

Manny is on his grind, recounting the funniest stories he can think of, causing uproarious laughter and taking harmless jabs at everyone at the table. Among her squad, Abby truly shines, earning admiration for her ability to treat everyone as equals, regardless of her superior position.

She is a leader in the field, but at home, she’s everyone’s trusted friend.

As you reminisce about a time before you knew her, the thought of living without the familiar scent of pine soap and the comforting feeling of her arms around you while you sleep becomes hazy and indistinct. The sensation of her breath against your neck as you wake up each morning is a treasured gift that you never want to lose sight of.

Under the table, you give Abby’s knee a gentle squeeze. She instinctively laces her fingers with yours, fully focused on Manny’s irrational fear of a girl storing her toothbrush in his apartment.

Only when your hand glides up her thigh does she split her focus, giving you a knowing sidelong glance.

Abby subtly adjusts herself to accommodate you, widening the space between her legs as the edges of her ear takes on the prettiest pink hue.

You toy with the button on her cargo pants, trailing your fingernail along the zipper, and despite her best efforts to focus on the surrounding conversations, she’s fading fast. Absentmindedly nibbling at the dry patches on her lip, she blinks with a slightly delayed rhythm, absorbed by your attention.

With each seductive surge, the intensity of your pain subsides, smoothing out its sharp edges.

“It’s your fault,” Manny explains, addressing Abby directly, the tines of his fork slicing the air. “I never had these problems when you were my roommate.”

Foreseeing a mental showdown, you slowly retreat to your lap, but Abby immediately tugs your hand back.

You know precisely what is going through her mind.

“Don’t blame your mommy issues on me, Alvarez,” Abby retorts. “Shit or get off the pot.”

Your fingers scratch a torturous path across her hard thigh, only stopping to pay special attention to the rigid seam of her pants before traveling back to her knee. Abby clears her throat and straightens up, indicating that she’s about three seconds away from a polite excuse to refuse dessert and propose an early night.

You beat her to the punch by deftly gathering your trays, offering a nod of farewell to everyone in the room and letting your girl know it’s time for her to take you to bed.

----------------------------------------

Rain trickles in silver ribbons along the panoramic windows of your apartment, flashes of lightning illuminating the night sky as the occasional rumble of thunder punctuates a mounting storm. Abby places candles on every tabletop and surface, creating a dim, flickering glow in anticipation of a possible power outage.

The crackling hiss of each match strike pulls you deeper into a state of relaxation.

She abandons the matchbox and, in one fluid motion, lifts her sweater up and over her head, tossing it onto the rocking chair in your reading nook.

Her back is a tapestry of sculpted muscles and you’re eager to feel them twitch and flex. It’s time to put an end to the silence that has been lingering between you since dinner.

“Abby?”

She hums, spinning around to face you, her expression lifting with an affectionate smile.

“What’s up?” she asks.

“I trust you.”

All traces of her tough exterior vanish as her determined strides carry her across the room, closing the distance between you. It’s a compliment that you know she will hold in high regard.

“I’m glad,” she whispers. “You’re always safe with me, okay?”

Abby’s eyes are a fragment of the ocean, a world of mystery and depth pulling you in. Her touch is gentle as she cups your jaw, delicately tilting your chin toward hers.

“I mean it,” she says.

The moment your lips meet, the taste of her intoxicates you, the room a dizzy blur of raindrops and candlelight. Her eager hands greedily explore the curves of your body, and the languid pace is torment. Taking her lower lip between your teeth, you suck her gently into your mouth, rocking against her for relief.

“Please let me take care of you,” Abby says.

You guide her hand between your legs, giving her the freedom to ease your pain. The surface is so slick that her fingers glide over your smooth folds, circling your swollen clit until you’re whimpering against her throat.

“Fuck, you feel good,” she whines. “You’re so wet, I can’t even take it.”

“Keep this up and I won’t last long,” you giggle.

Abby lifts you and sets you down on the bed, and that’s when you see it for the first time. Faint streaks of you staining her fingertips.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say.

“Look at me,” Abby murmurs, trailing kisses up your thigh. “You are so incredibly sexy like this.”

#abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian

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buckyscombatboots · 1 year

Text

Monstertober Day 8

Careful what you wish for 🕯

Pairing: Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Initial Somnophilia, dub con, kind of rape, insults/degrading language, biting, scratching, marking, mentions of blood, womb tattoo/sigil, dumbification, aphrodisiac, vibrator, p in v, overstimulation, cunnilingus, demon summoning, beefy!bucky, condescending!Bucky, dark!bucky, praise, fluff

Nicknames: Angel, Doll, sweetness

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I’m so sorry this is late, I was extremely busy on Halloween with teacher training and university work. But this concludes Monstertober, I have some exciting things planned for November.

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

Candles…You look around your floor surrounded by heaps of softly glowing candles, their flames waning and brightening again and again as the flame danced in the draft of your room. “Check.” you murmured, casting your eyes back to the grimoire’s aged pages; squinting in the darkness of your room trying to see the faded ink more clearly “stupidly complicated pentagram that took me multiple attempts and almost two hours to draw. Check.” You huffed glaring down at the pentagram drawn in white chalk on your floor, the edges smudged ever so slightly from where you’d repeatedly rubbed it away, only to redraw it wrong again. “An offering.” The book had not specified the offering that you had to provide for the demon, it simply said offering in intricate calligraphy “,how very helpful.” Grumbling you crouched to your knees, placing the grimoire down and scooping up your pile of “offerings” depositing them at random in a small circle inside your pentagram. Your offerings, if you could even call them that, consisted of a some loose change you’d found under and behind furniture, some candies you had lying around from halloween that the children hadn’t taken, a lock of your hair and a deeply personal item—which was the only clear instruction in the list, and you had chosen your trusty pink vibrator. Looking at the pink vibe on the floor made you want to crawl out of your skin in embarrassment, but it made the most sense since it was very deeply personal.

You picked the book back up and seated yourself in the centre of the summoning circle, you could feel your heart rate spike as you glanced down at the page for the summoning words. Your hands shook, palms growing cold and sweaty as you began “Heed my call, hear my cry may it lead you to me from your realm far away. I command you to my side so that we may make a contract.” You bite down on your finger drawing blood and swipe it across the floor “See me now and let me see you.” You blow out the candles around you and wait. You gulp as you sit cross legged in the dark, waiting. The sound of your breathing and your blood rushing makes the silence unbearable.

Nothing happens.

After sitting there for five minutes, you climb to your feet defeated. Tears on your waterline as you throw the book to the floor and flop into bed. You felt so stupid for even thinking that something like that would work, you feel the full weight of your adrenaline rush crashing to ground as curl under your covers rocking yourself to sleep s you mentally prepare for the rent payment tomorrow.

The blown out candles relight simultaneously as he steps out of the red swirling portal “You called?” He looked down expecting to see the person who summoned him, but he found the chalk pentagram staring back at him. He bends down, picking up the book you’d thrown harshly to the floor with a frown. He dusts off the grimoire, tracing the embossing in the leather cover with his blackened fingers, turning down the heat of his brimstone skin so the book doesn't burn. From the corner of his eye he catches your body shifting under the covers. He sets the grimoire gently on your chest of drawers and pads over to your bed “Wake up my little sleeping Angel.” He whispers in a gravelly tone, forming an ‘o’ with his reddened lips and blowing a stream of cold air against your ear lobe making you stir. He seats himself on the edge of your bed trailing his hand across your sleeping form “You’re wearing too much for my liking. Let me help you with that.” He threw the covers off of you and turned you more on to your back so he could peel your baggy shirt off, moving as quiet as a mouse. You were left only in a pair of panties, your comfortable pair that you wore when you knew no one would be seeing them, Bucky smiled at them thumbing the fabric adoringly. He ran his fingers across the middle of your panties till a soaking crease was visible. “Already so horny for me, naughty little human.” Bucky pulled down your panties, taking them into his hand to see the clear, sticky proof of your arousal. He tossed the panties already able to smell the thick scent of your arousal, he knew he had to taste you. He dipped his head down, running his tongue through your folds, groaning at the taste of you. He decided there and then he was going to claim you as his. He sucked on his fingers, getting them wet, before inserting them inside of you. Your walls drew him in, clamping so tightly around his fingers that he could barely move them. His hardened cock twitched as he imagined sliding into you, pounding you awake watching as your pleasured cries turned into pleas for him to stop. He had to stop a wicked grin from spreading across his lips. “You’ve been neglected for so long, Pet. Bucky’s gonna change that don’t you worry sweetheart. Who would neglect such a pretty pussy, so fucking tight.” His fingers start to glide through your spasming walls as they adjust to the thickness of his fingers. He targets the spongy spot inside you, debaucherous wet sounds filing the sleepy silence of your room. He paused as a soft mewl left your lips, your body shifting and your fisted hands tightening their hold on your pillow. He continued his ministrations even as your eyes fluttered open and you finally came to, your pleasured babbling pausing. You stared, horrified at the man sitting at the edge of your bed. Your eyes travelled up to the black horns on his head that looked like a ram's horns then down his red eyed that even in the darkness stuck out like a sore thumb, they shone like road studs in headlights stealing your attention before he opened his mouth displaying sharp, white teeth “Thanks for summoning me, Angel. I can see why you needed an incubus. You seem to be very pent up, but I can fix that for you.” His deep melodic voice made the initial stress you felt drift far away. You gaze drops downwards following the muscle of his neck down to the imposing bulk of his shoulders and arms, the rise and fall of his burly chest becoming hypnotising as his scent reaches your nostrils a mix of myrrh and musk that has your head swimming making you completely forget what he said. The feel of his rough palm cupping your cheek anchors you “I said, thank you for summoning me, Angel.”

“I didn’t summon an incubus. You- You have the wrong house.”

“No need to be coy. It’s fine to need a bit of help.”

“No, I genuinely didn’t summon an incubus. I wanted to Summon a demon that could help me. I'm working two jobs, I’m exhausted, the cost of everything is rising and I just can’t anymore. I'm running myself into the ground. I must have summoned the wrong type of demon.”

“Ah, that's Ari’s department. I’d contact him, but he’s a bit busy with a few cultists. So I guess you’re stuck with me for the time being, but I can help you in a different way, Doll.” His other hand reaches to the side of him and heat floods your cheeks as your eyes lock on the pink vibrator he has between his fingers. He pops it into his mouth like a hard candy and sucks it a little before spitting it back into his palm, pressing the button to turn it on “Nice and ready for you.” He chides, slipping his fingers out of your tight heat replacing the emptiness with the warmed, whirling vibrator. You feel your stomach constrict in pleasure as he guides the pink bullet in further with his fingers, positioning it right against your sweet spot. Shooting you a knowing smile as you sob your walls fluttering around his fingers as you convulse “Such a good girl for me, coming all over my fingers.” Bucky coos taking the vibe out from inside you bringing it to the head of his weeping cock moaning as he rubs it against his precum leaking slit, pumping his length with his other ashen hand “Time for you to take me sweetness.” You try to scramble away from him but he was much quicker than you, sensing your fear before it had even registered inside your brain. His warm rough palm seized your thigh pulling you back in position.

“It won’t fit! You’re going to tear me in two. Please can you just forget I summoned you.”

“Oh, Doll, that’s not how this works. You summoned me, I have duties to fulfill and in exchange for said duties I get your soul. I’m not leaving, this will not be forgotten. Regardless, you need to breathe; I’m not going to ‘tear you in two’ that sigil on your womb will make sure of it and make it pleasurable whilst I do. So calm down for me, I don’t like it when humans make my job more difficult than it has to be so behave and you’ll be rewarded.” His threats wrapped up in a sweet tone making it seem as if he wasn’t patronising you. Despite this you began to calm down, wrapping your legs around his hips and controlling your breathing. Your eyes drifted down his muscular torso, focusing on the intricate tattoo like patterns on his skin to relax your mind. The tattoos brought you down to the deep ‘v’ line of his pelvis and back to his veiny member which he was prodding to your entrance. You were pulled out of the trace-like state that his prominent veins had put you in, as he bottomed out in you until your walls were stretched taut around his meaty shaft. He stays still until the burn subsides, watching as your eyes gain a hazy, spaced out glaze and your mouth drops open in an inaudible moan. He pulls out and thrusts so hard into you that your bed scoots under the force, the sound of skin slapping skin echos through your small room as Bucky snaps his hips into you pushing himself deeper and deeper each time, his movements are slow yet rough making you feel every inch of him as he fucks into your tight heat. A surge of heat spread all the way from your hips to the sole of your feet and the tips of your fingers, you felt almost drunk on pleasure, every single thrust of his hips renewing the heat. Your whole body tingles as he presses the vibrator to your clit “God!” You scream as your legs wrapped around his waist begin to shake.

“Oh no sweet little Angel, God isn’t here. In this room, right now, I am your God. You worship me. I give you pleasure.” He purrs, swirling the vibe on your pulsing pearl as he angles the tip of his cock to hit your sweet spot over an over, drawing the orgasm building inside of you to the surface making you cum with a whimpering cry.

The sound of your blood rushing in your ears filled your senses as you came down from your high, even as you came back to your senses you felt much more distanced from reality; your body felt as if it was submerged in a warm bath, and slowly but surely you were sinking below the water. Your break was cut short by Bucky continuing his thrusts, his hand pressing the vibrator to your now throbbing clit didn’t budge—he instead pushed down more harshly on your clit making your legs quake uncontrollably “Hnng! Please!” Was all you could force out before your tongue became useless, lolling out of your mouth. You came again with a shout, clawing Bucky’s back with your nails as you threw your head back into the pillow, your back arching even further into the air. You came so hard you forgot how to breathe, a heavy weight crushing your chest, as you slumped back into the mattress trying your hardest to breathe Bucky finally removed the vibe from your raw little nub. His palm flattened against your stomach where the sigil was placed rubbing a slow circle that set your nerves on fire, before he brought his hand up to the bulge in your stomach and pressed harshly with his thumb tearing a whimper from your throat.

“Fuck you can see me inside of you, Angel. I’m all up in your guts rearranging them. Turning you into the perfect little cock sleeve, gonna make sure I ruin you for any other man. Oh wait, you won't be taking any other man after me. Because; You. Belong. To. Me.” Her punctuated every word with a rough thrust, bashing your cervix which would usually hurt but whatever he did gave you a supreme, otherworldly amount of pleasure “the sigil is almost full, one more orgasm and my seed should be enough to fill it. Do you think you can take it?” He questions a small smile gracing his lips as he awaits your answer, but all you can do is mumble “So fucked out that you can’t even form a sentence, your heads probably so empty right now, my little fuck doll. It’s okay, you don’t need to think, Angel, let me do that for you; can’t expect a dumb little human like you who can’t even read the pages of a very clear, simple book correctly.” His hand slithers up your body towards your neck, wrapping around your throat before he starts to apply pressure—observing as your body begins to melt into the mattress. His thrusts continued and paired with the lack of oxygen bright flashes of white flicker across your vision. All your nerves began to thrum as you felt another orgasm coming, your wall clamped around him as you got closer to the edge. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, he released your neck allowing air to flow back into your lungs as he dipped his head down to your shoulder inking his teeth into your skin. The overwhelming sensations of lightheadedness, pleasure and pain threw your senses into orbit as you came your pussy squeezing his cock as you raked your nails across his back hard enough to draw blood. Bucky gave a few more weak, uncoordinated thrusts before he painted your insides with a wanton moan gripping the pillow hard enough for it to tear. You could barely comprehend your surroundings, you felt as if you were made of air and if Bucky let go of you you’d dissipate. Your heart hammered against your rib cage, as you stared up at Bucky’s handsome face; his sweat darkened hair glued to his forehead. He let out a chuckle, his hand caressing the sigil at your womb “Happy Halloween, Angel. This is the last one you’ll ever have to spend alone. The contract has been made and now, you belong to me. Forever.”

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483 @little-bunny0523 @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria @anniellacinamon @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @teddybearsgrr

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justmediocrewriting · 2 months

Note

Hello, saw your NSFW prompts and since there can be combinations, I'd really like to request 1, 15 and 30 with Zoro, just love to see soft dom Zoro taking care of reader! Only if it's OK with you and please take your time at your own pace! 😊

A/n: blurb? Who’s she? Y’all I got fucking carried away with this. Did not expect it to come out to this monster length, but oh well *shrugs*. I hope you all enjoy this one as much as I did!

Prompt(s): “is it your first time, baby?” – “you’re so damn tight.” – “think twice before you say yes; because once I start, I’m not stopping.” (#1, #15, #30)

Pairing: zoro x fem!reader

Word Count: 11k (jfc)

Warnings/tags: explicit sexual content, soft!dom zoro, virgin!reader, brief descriptions of virginity loss, soft!zoro, slow sex, porn with feelings, gentle!zoro, bigdick!zoro, cunnilingus, oral (m receiving), spit as lube, afab!reader, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampies, very small breeding kink, established relationship, first time together, language, dirty talk, does get slightly awkward at times because hey first times, duh. Zoro was drafted to be soft but rough!Zoro sort of took control of my mind oopsie

“You’re nervous.”

Zoro’s statement wasn’t even a question — it was just a blatant observation, one that you had no doubt the perceptive swordsman would make quickly. Embarrassment clawed up your skin and you shifted in his lap, casting your eyes to the side to avoid looking into his; you hoped Zoro wouldn’t mistake your nerves for disinterest or something else of the sort, but you had a sinking feeling that that’s the only reasonable conclusion your actions would lead Zoro to.

Which was a bit disheartening, because this was something you wanted, something you’d thought about, a lot, it was just… kind of scary.

You weren’t a complete virgin, per se; you’d had some pretty serious sexual encounters with other men before Zoro, but there was a rather glaring difference between Zoro and your other partners — and that difference was standing at attention, digging in to your clothed core with the heat of a searing brand, thick and long and intimidating.

Zoro was fucking huge, and that was cause enough for your nerves and trepidation; libido and desire be damned.

“It’s just…you’re just… a bit… big…” you mumbled slowly, cheeks flaring with heat and stomach fluttering with nerves — your eyes flicked downward and that faint fluttering turned to full on somersaults when you caught sight of his bulge, right there and straining between your parted legs. How would that ever be able to fit…?

“We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for, y’know.” Zoro rumbled, voice thick with amusement, and he slid his hands up and down the length of your plush thighs in a manner that was simultaneously comforting and titillating.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for it,” you muttered with a dry chuckle, attempting to release some of your nervous energy by fiddling with the loose strings of his shirt collar. Zoro’s mouth opened, more than likely to say something similar to “then we don’t have to do anything,” and you quickly cut him off before he could even start.

“But,” you flicked your eyes up to his bashfully, pinning your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart thundering within your chest and skin crawling with ants, “I want it.”

Zoro’s eyes widened fractionally and his lips opened in a small ‘o’, and in the next instant he let out a groan and slipped his eyes closed as he dug his head into the pillow behind him.

“Fuck, you can’t just say something like that.” Zoro wisped, fingers digging ever so slightly into your thighs and hips tensing beneath you, as if he was stopping them from bucking upwards.

Zoro’s reaction had some of your nerves slipping away to be replaced by a strange sort of confidence, and your fingers stilled in their twiddling of his shirt strings. You trailed your hand down until it rested just above his midsection, right between his pecs, and leaned down to ghost your lips over his. An excited tingle ran down your spine at the proximity.

“Why not? It’s true.”

Zoro popped open an eye lazily, drawing a triangle over your face once, then twice, and then suddenly he was shooting up with movements that were far too fast for you to catch with your eyes. You yelped when his hands detached from your thighs in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your faces were now inches apart, and you could feel more than see the smile on his lips.

“Are you sure that’s what you want, baby?”

Zoro’s eyes were twinkling, but they were also swimming with something serious, too. The look in his eyes had you second guessing yourself suddenly, your original fears being ripped back to the surface through your sudden bravado. Fooling around was one thing, but going all the way… that was another entirely, something that Zoro seemed to understand on a surprisingly deep level.

But there was something in Zoro’s eyes that told you he didn’t truly understand the reason behind your nervous hesitation, despite the fact that you’d told him just moments prior.

“I want to have sex,” you blurted out before you could filter it, your blatant admission knocking Zoro visibly off-balance as his face contorted into surprise. Already far enough gone, you pushed away the rest of your bashfulness and rushed out the rest of your conviction before Zoro could fully recover and somehow steal your ability to do so.

“I mean, we’ve been together for a while now, and I’ve been thinking about it, a lot; I know what I want, but it’s just…”

You couldn’t help but trail off, that branding heat between your legs, now crushed against you even tighter due to the change in position, acting as a physical manifestation of cause of your doubt. Surely Zoro — smart, attentive, perceptive Zoro — could grasp what your fear was without you blatantly spelling out once again.

Of course, you’d have no such luck; because Zoro was just a mischievous as he was perceptive, and he would never give up an opportunity to tease the hell out of you.

“It’s just ‘what’, baby?”

Shooting him a glare, you decided not to play into his game; he wanted to fluster you, and at the moment, you couldn’t handle that — and it seemed to have slipped Zoro’s mind that you could give just as good as you got; one of the biggest factors that contributed to Zoro’s initial attraction to you.

“Your dick’s too big.” You deadpanned, a small glimmer of satisfaction burning within your chest when Zoro’s expression turned to flat flabbergasted.

Shoot and score.

Zoro’s eyes narrowed and that flame of satisfaction was harshly doused by resignation.

Or not.

“You keep saying things like that and I may not be able to control myself.” Zoro said, and though his tone was even, his body had ultimately betrayed his true feelings when his cock twitched between your crushed bodies. You’d felt him do that before, the most frequent incident being just about ten minutes prior to this before Zoro had interrupted your heavy make out session, but feeling it do so during this particular conversation affected you in a way it hadn’t previously.

It turned you on immensely.

Goaded by Zoro’s clear interest and your own arousal, you shifted your hips ever so subtly, dragging your core against his hardness and subsequently pulling a breathy groan from the man.

“What if I don’t want you to?” You murmured against Zoro’s lips, dancing your fingers up Zoro’s ribcage in a featherlight touch. Zoro shivered beneath you and his eyes slipped closed momentarily, his cock responding to the stimulation with another harsh twitch.

But then his eyes popped open and your balance was upset when Zoro completely flipped your position, your back landing against the sheets sprawled out over the floor, Zoro’s large hands effectively muffling the impact — but even so, the makeshift pallet wasn’t the most comfortable thing, and you felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Zoro’s back, though the swordsman hadn’t even complained once during your previous engagement.

With the change in position came a shift in dynamic, and with Zoro looming over you, eyes hardened with seriousness and lips in a tight line, that brief flickering of bravado was silenced, and your skin flushed with bashfulness.

Zoro was silent above you for a long moment, his eyes searching, and though part of you wanted to break the eye contact, you couldn’t bring yourself to; something about his intensity demanded that the eye contact remain, and your body was helpless to its inclination to obey, your own nerves and sanity be damned.

“If this is what you want, you need to be sure.” Zoro rumbled, voice husky and deep, sending shivers down your spine.

“You need to think twice before you say yes; because once I start, I can’t guarantee I’ll stop.”

A lump lodged itself in your throat, a composition of nerves, trepidation, and excitement, growing larger with each second of eye contact that passed.

There was so much swimming within Zoro’s orbs, only a few of which you could confidently identify; arousal, excitement, uncertainty, and the faintest wisp of desperation — Zoro needed this consent, you realized with a start; because as much as Zoro wanted this too, he didn’t want to hurt you.

You’d been given your warning, generously so, and part of you wondered if you would get another after this should you choose not to heed it for now.

Part of you wondered if you even wanted another one.

Your stomach was alight with mixed sensations; arousal, nerves, trepidation, anticipation, excitement, love — and your body was itching with simultaneous urges; to pull Zoro’s lips to yours, to run away, to shove him off, to pull him closer, to just get on with it. Honestly, if this continued, your body would burst apart at the seams, until there was nothing left of you but a pile of goo.

To mute that erratic buzzing of your brain and body, you shot your hand up and grabbed Zoro’s nape, pulling him down to crush his lips to yours and initiate a rough dance.

Zoro was quick to respond, lips immediately finding the comfortable rhythm that you had failed to in your haste, caressing yours in that way that always sparked electricity across your skin.

You let out a small moan as you allowed yourself to follow his lead, which was surprisingly gentle and sensual despite the simmering tension the sudden liplock produced, and your body relaxed. This was familiar — the sensations from this was familiar — and it was successfully melting away that buzz that had been tormenting you. Zoro pulled a hand from beneath you and brought it up to your cheek, swiping his thumb across the skin in a tender caress, and your chest warmed significantly.

You were incredibly lucky to see this soft side of the strong, silent, stoic swordsman — incredibly lucky to know Zoro, to know him in intimate ways, to see past the brute strength and raw talent, to see deeper into who he truly was; flaws and all. You were lucky to be able to love him.

Zoro trusted you with this side of him, with his entirety; and you trusted Zoro, implicitly. Trusted him to care for your heart, mind and body.

There was no one else who was worthy of that trust.

You broke your liplock by turning your face to the side, nuzzling into the palm on your cheek and ghosting your lips over it tenderly. Zoro’s breath caught in his throat and his fingers twitched, on both the hand you were nuzzling into and the one still buried beneath your back, and you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.

“I trust you, Zoro.” You whispered, a sentiment breathed only into the bubble between the two of you, meant only for Zoro’s ears. Zoro’s onyx orbs shifted across your face, tracing over every detail etched into the flesh, searching, and after a moment, he smiled softly.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” Zoro asked, voice lowered to the same degree as yours, but shaky with something that stoked those burning embers in your gut. Zoro’s hand was just as shaky as his voice, fingertips sliding across your skin tenderly, his eyes taking on a hue of reverence as he stared down at you.

Trepidation once more fluttered in your chest, but it was heavily smothered by excitement and anticipation, and you swallowed it down as you nodded jerkily.

“Yeah, it is, Zoro.”

Zoro sucked in a sharp breath over his teeth and his lips were once more smothering yours, Zoro’s movements now taking on a hungrier edge, and you responded in kind, flicking your tongue against his bottom lip every so often and pulling trembling groans from his throat — Zoro was being far more vocal than he had been earlier, and it was absolutely stirring you up inside, because he sounded so beautiful.

Zoro’s palm removed itself from your face and slid down your bicep, then your arm, all the way down until he could grab your hand and pull it upwards, pinning it beside your face by enclosing it within his in an embrace. You couldn’t help but notice how much larger his hand was than yours, how easily it caged and encased yours, filling your chest with a sense of security and safety. The action seemed almost like an unspoken promise.

“I’ll take care of you.”

The sentiment somehow thickened the tension within you, arousal and anticipation growing ever more fierce in your gut, and now your hands were working over Zoro’s body — the hand still on his nape had morphed from a resting state to one of movement, fingers combing through the short hairs at the base of Zoro’s neck, and the other shot up to grope at his thick bicep, his forearm, his shoulder, his neck, his jaw; everywhere it could reach comfortably.

Zoro vibrated your lips with an appreciative hum, his other hand slipping from beneath you and trailing down your ribcage, ratcheting up the tension when it reached your thigh and squeezed. His feverish lips never left yours as he slid his hand beneath the crook of your knee and lifted your leg, hiking it over his hip until your heel rested against his lower back. The movement spread your legs and allowed Zoro to slot his hips between your thighs, and when his hand slid up once more to grab hold of your hip and keep you in place as he ground his clothed cock into your core, you couldn’t stop the loud moan that tore from your lips from the friction against your clit, which was now throbbing slightly.

Zoro sucked the sound down greedily, plunging his tongue into your open mouth roughly and exploring every inch of the wet crevice. Zoro’s tongue faintly tasted of the fruity wine he’d sampled earlier that evening, and though you weren’t a fan of alcohol, you found yourself growing addicted to the taste, and you slid your tongue sloppily against his to chase more of it.

Zoro’s hips continued to gyrate against you in slow, almost sloppy movements, his large cock twitching every so often, the combined sensations fogging up your brain and electrifying your skin. Zoro’s size was beginning to look less intimidating and more enticing to your hormone-wracked head.

Zoro’s hand slowly disentangled itself from yours and fell to your other hip, taking it in a firm grip and in working in unison with his other to hoist your bottom half up. Zoro shuffled himself beneath your bottom and then set your ass atop his thighs, your ankles subconsciously locking together behind his back and effectively holding you against his clothed cock while also freeing his hands.

“A natural, baby.” Zoro murmured against your lips, sliding a hand up and down your left leg in approval. You whimpered into his mouth and shifted your hips to move in time with his, electricity sparking up your spine as pleasure bloomed inside your clit from the friction. Zoro groaned in response, his hand stilling over your calf and then gripping it tightly, subtle pain exploding beneath his fingertips that only served to fan those embers in your gut. You could feel wetness forming between your folds, and you were suddenly bit with the need for relief.

The only problem was that you weren’t sure what relief your body was begging for.

The air was tense and simmering — what you and Zoro were engaging in wasn’t uncommon; but somehow, it was made so much more electrifying with the knowledge of the end goal, and it was driving you insane, stoking your libido to intensities that you hadn’t ever experienced in your life. But it was near suffocating, and it was bringing forth trickles of slight panic.

As if innately sensing this, Zoro slipping his tongue from your mouth and pulled away a few inches, taking with him that addictive sweet-wine and pleasant sensations. Zoro’s hips also stilled, and the combined losses pulled a whimper of dissatisfaction from your lips.

“Hey, look at me, baby.” Zoro cooed, and your eyes fluttered open to meet his; but even you could tell that they more than likely appeared hazy and unfocused to him, because you were finding it hard to concentrate with that hot buzz beneath your skin. But Zoro had told you to look at him, so you did your best to focus on his face, currently etched with seriousness.

“Do you really want this baby?” Zoro asked after his was placated enough by your attention, and it took you a bit of time to sober up and digest his words. When you did, you nodded eagerly, leaning your head up to chase after his lips again. But Zoro pulled his head back further, rejecting your advance and bringing a pout to your lips.

“You need to be sure. I need you to be sure.”

The desperation in Zoro’s words pulled you fully from that arousal-induced fog, and when you looked into his eyes, you saw the glimmer of something you never thought you’d see within his eyes — fear. Your voice was stolen from you in the blink of an eye, and your heart constricted painfully within your chest.

“I-I won’t be able to stop myself; I need you to understand that. So if you don’t want this, if you aren’t ready, you need to push me away now.”

On your next inhale your chest filled with much more than just oxygen; it was about to burst with pure affection and love, with adoration and pride, with lust and desire, all directed towards the foreign uncertainty plaguing your routinely stoic lover. You surged up quickly and slotted your lips against Zoro’s before the man had the chance to pull back, but you didn’t try to evolve the kiss into something more.

This was reassurance, and nothing more.

You pulled back after a solid few seconds of contact, and with as much conviction as you could muster, you swiped your thumb across his nape and whispered, “I’m sure, Zoro. I want you to take me.”

The groan your words pulled from Zoro was deep, guttural, and completely unhinged; his hips bucked forward and he shoved his face into the crook of his neck, his breaths fanning hot over the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, you don’t — you can’t — shit, you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

Zoro’s statement had your chest feeling giddy with confidence, and you bucked your hips up to grind your core against his hardness, pulling another groan from him and earning a slight pinch to your calf.

“I think I have a faint idea.” You said cheekily, bumping your heel teasingly into his lower back. Zoro chuckled airily into the crook of your neck, and after a moment’s silence, he retracted his face and stared down at you with that serious expression again, and it was beginning to kind of irritate you.

“If we’re going to do this, you have to do everything I say, okay?” Zoro rumbled, pulling a small smirk and a raised brow from you in response.

“Power play, huh? Kinky. I like it.”

Zoro shook his head but the quirk of his lips told you that he still found some amusement in your statement. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” You retorted back, and found yourself slightly flustered by the truthfulness of your sentiment. The thought of Zoro doling out orders, guiding you on what to do, when to do it and how… it was more than a little exciting.

Zoro’s breath left him in a furious exhale and his eyes clenched closed, the fierce throb of his cock against your clit topping off his rather stimulating reaction.

“Okay, fuck, okay, yeah. For right now, just follow my lead and do what feels natural.” Zoro explained, eyes opening again and near pitch black from the dilation of his pupils. Zoro was so turned on, and it was only serving to turn you on even more.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered back, voice low and sultry, both teasing and genuine, and Zoro growled in response before leaning down to capture your lips in a crushing kiss. His lips moved against yours hotly, fervently, as if he was trying to devour you.

You tried your best to keep up with Zoro, but his lips were fast, as were his hands, sliding and groping and pinching at every bit of skin, clothed and not, that he could reach.

“Fuck, these clothes need to be off,” Zoro growled, hands twisting into the hem of your shirt and pulling it up. You arched your back to allow him better access, and within moments you were left clad in just your thin bra. Zoro immediately leaned back down to place wet, heated kisses along the top of your breasts, trailing hot breaths along your skin as he worked his hands up and down your sides.

“Zoro,” you gasped out, tangling your fingers into the fine hair at the base of his neck, the passionate attention against your skin throwing a stone of pure arousal into your gut, your hips twitching and bucking against the heat of his cock. Wetness smeared along the inside of your panties, copious in its volume and far slicker than anything you’d produced before.

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” Zoro growled into your skin, humping against your gyrating hips and dragging his cock across your clit in a way that sent pure tingles up your spine. “How long I’ve wanted to fuck you. I’ve been so patient.”

Fiery arousal licked up your entire body, Zoro’s admission sending you to just the right side of crazy. You combed your fingers up his skull until you reached the thickest spot of hair, then tangled your fingers within lightly and pushed his head further against your breasts, sighing out softly at the graze of teeth along the flesh.

“Yes, yes, you’ve been so patient, baby.” You murmured, lips tingling with the urge to feel his. “I kept you waiting so long. I’m sorry.”

As if innately sensing your desire, or maybe suddenly overcome with his own, Zoro’s lips retracted from your breast and he leaned his head up just far enough to crash his mouth into yours, colliding your lips in a series of hot, open mouthed kisses. Drool slipped down the corner of your mouth, but your brain didn’t have the capacity to truly focus on the sensation when it was so preoccupied by the pleasure of Zoro’s bucking hips and the branding of his lips.

Zoro was panting and groaning into your mouth, the sounds growing in volume as his hips picked up speed, accelerating to a pace that it felt as though he was trying to fuck you through the layers of clothes. Your pussy throbbed and gushed at the thought, and you moaned deeply into his mouth.

Your other hand traced down the outline of his muscles through his shirt, dipping into the defined ridges and lines and tracing over the heated skin. In response, Zoro tucked his hands beneath your back and raised your torso up until it could press flush against his, crushing your hand between your bodies. Zoro’s thrusts never faltered, and the new proximity had your head completely melting.

But even so you could still latch onto one coherent thought, and that was that Zoro’s shirt should be off. Right now.

Breaking the heated embrace of your lips you slid your hand from his hair and down until your fingertips dipped into his haramaki, fumbling around until they grazed the hem of his shirt tucked beneath.

“Shirt. Off.” You whispered, earning a huffy chuckle from the swordsman and a breathy “as you wish.”

Zoro disconnected your bodies and set you back gently on the sheets, rising to rest on his knees, which were still tucked beneath the globes of your ass. You watched with growing anticipation as Zoro shuffled his haramaki down and untucked his shirt from it, pulling the hem up and over those fucking abs, shit, they were fucking delicious — and that toned chest with those pecs, those strong, broad shoulders, fuck — the sight made your brain fog even more than before. You continued to gawk at his bare torso even as he eventually discarded his shirt to an unknown corner of the room, eyes too focused on the art in front of you to register the sly smirk that pulled his lips.

“Like what you see, baby?” Zoro quizzed, and you couldn’t even find the capacity to dredge up any bashfulness or indignation at his confidence. You only nodded, mouth feeling awfully heavy all of the sudden.

That beautiful sight was robbed when Zoro leaned down and bracketed your head with his forearms on either side, his breath ghosting over your lips as he said, rather sweetly, “so do I.”

Zoro’s lips were soft when he captured yours in a gentle embrace, one that was far different to the hungry, avid caresses of earlier. Even lacking that heat, the sensuality behind it affected you just as deeply, and your pussy once again throbbed, and you found yourself wanting more; more skin, more contact, more Zoro.

To iterate this point you pressed back against Zoro with a bit more heat behind your lips, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip in an effort to draw out his own wine-drenched muscle. Zoro happily obliged the silent command, and once again your kiss melted into a hot, sticky, messy dance, full of teeth and tangled tongues and serenaded by slick slaps and squelches.

Your head was getting fuzzy again. All you could think about was Zoro.

You whimpered into his mouth and bucked your hips, tempting his into driving into your core once again, and the man followed through, his breaths turning to hot pants as he picked up his previous pace.

“Gods, I can’t wait to be inside you.” Zoro growled against your lips, breaking your liplock to lean back and stare heatedly into your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for so long; ever since you told me you’ve never gone all the way before.”

Your breath stalled in your throat and your pussy gushed out more liquid against his cock, his words stirring your gut up in ways you never thought possible. Wetting your lips you breathed out a shaky, “yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah.” Zoro confirmed, leaning down to rub his nose along your racing pulse point. Zoro gripped your left hip and rocked his hips into yours with more force, your tits bouncing from the velocity of it. The rough treatment to your clit had it throbbing heavily, and your gut cinched in a way that was near terrifying due to its foreignness. “It’s so fucking hot to be your first. To be the first dick to split you open and show you heaven.”

Your back arched and tingles shot through your hips, electricity sparking within your very muscles as moans were pulled from throat and that cinched something snapped inside your gut, and your clit seemed to suddenly develop its own heartbeat as your body tensed completely.

What the fuck just happened?

It felt… like an orgasm, but it was far more intense than you’d ever had in your life.

“Fuck, baby, did you just come?” Zoro growled into your skin, hips slowing to a smooth rocking. You could only nod, completely flabbergasted, as the waves of your orgasm receded until they faded completely and your skin flushed with embarrassment.

“That’s so goddamn hot, fuck. I’ve gotta get a taste.”

Before you could fully comprehend his words and react Zoro had dislodged your legs from around his waist and shuffled down and was in the process of pulling down the hem of your shorts. With a small squeal that you would deny ever making you gripped his wrists to halt his movements. Zoro’s eyes, glimmering with excitement and now frustration, bore daggers into your own wide ones.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked, voice a little shrill, which prompted Zoro to raise a brow and tug lightly on your shorts.

“Getting a taste. Now let go.” He said flippantly, batting your hands away from his, as if his actions weren’t currently heating you to the temperature of combustion. Of all the experience you currently had, receiving oral was not among the list; all your previous partners never bothered to indulge in it, and Zoro’s inclination to do so struck a chord of uncertainty within you.

“But—”

“I thought you were going to do everything I say?” Zoro rebutted before you could get any more words out, and any remaining arguments were stolen straight from your tongue. Satisfied by your complacency Zoro focused on the task of shedding you of your shorts, peeling them from your ankles and throwing them into a darkened corner of the room. You flushed when you heard Zoro take a sharp inhale, and your hips twitched ever so slightly when he ran his fingers over the lacy patterns of your panties.

“Oh, fuck…” Zoro breathed out, fingers sliding dangerously low, stopping just centimeters above your core. “You’re so wet. I can see it straight through them.”

“Shut up,” you whimpered without any real heat, cinching your eyes shut and balling your fists at your sides.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Zoro tutted, sliding a finger directly over your core and pulling a surprised noise from your lips. “It’s hot as fuck. And besides, you’re going to need this if you expect to take me without breaking in half.”

Those words should have ripped your earlier and fear and trepidation right back to the surface, but it did the exact opposite — instead, your body trembled and the moan that fell from your lips was so wanton that you couldn’t hardly believe it came from you. You fucking wanted it, and you wanted it bad.

“Shit, that got you excited baby? Let me see how much.” Zoro growled, hooking his thumbs into your panties and pulling them down and completely off in one swift movement. Cold air slapped against your heated core and your legs slammed shut instinctively — except, they were stopped almost immediately by Zoro’s ribs, and you shot up from your laying position when the cold was replaced by searing heat.

Your folds were parted by Zoro’s insistent tongue, which, after gathering up every bit of slick it could, quickly found a place against your clit, which he abused immediately with firm presses and fast circles.

“Oh, my gods,” you said on a shaky exhale, pleasure zipping through your entire core at each lick and twirl Zoro laved against your clit. You expected your previous orgasm to dull the intensity of the pleasure, but if anything, it only deepened it, and you were helpless to stop the moans falling from your mouth or the subtle rocking of your hips. Your limbs were beginning to feel weak, so you leaned back to rest on your elbows, eyes focused on Zoro’s head between your thighs.

The sight was so erotic, made even more so by the symphonies of wet lapping and groaning that glided up to tickle your ears. Zoro’s eyes were darkened as they peered into yours, tongue completely tearing you apart with fast, firm movements, reducing you to nothing but putty at Zoro’s mercy.

“Fuck, h-how are you so good at th-that?” You asked, a moan catching in your throat when Zoro’s tongue once again dipped down and parted your folds to gather up the slick that had accumulated there during his focus on your clit. Zoro didn’t answer you, not that you necessarily expected him to, but his tongue became ever more aggressive, now alternating between abusing your clit, parting your folds, and even plunging ever so slightly into your tight cunt — he was assaulting you with a myriad of movements, shifting between them at a speed of which your foggy brain couldn’t dare to try to anticipate the next, and you could feel another orgasm building.

Shit, this felt better than you ever imagined.

Zoro knew when you had finally reached that edge, eyes reading your movements like a hawk, and he was quick to up the ante on your clit in order to push you over. Your second orgasm of the night, much more anticipated than the first, crashed over you silently, your entire body curling in on itself and your thighs strangling Zoro’s ribs as your mouth popped open and your legs shook. Zoro continued to lap at your pussy as you rode your high, up until the point that you had to reach down and tug at his hair to pull him away due to the pleasure turning to pain from overstimulation.

Zoro was quick to climb up your body and crash his lips to yours, tongue plunging itself past your lips and spreading your spend across your own taste buds. Your expectations were once again defied as you found yourself finding the taste and action highly erotic, and you hooked a shaky leg over Zoro’s waist to pull his cock flush against your throbbing, sopping cunt as you reciprocated the kiss. You moaned deeply into his mouth as you registered that his cock was even harder than before, straining against his pants in a way that had to be uncomfortable.

You pushed against Zoro’s chest and disconnected your lips. “Y-you too. I wanna do it to you, too.” You whimpered, pulling a groan and faint buck of hips from Zoro.

“You don’t have to,” Zoro murmured, but his tone was shaky and excited, and it was fairly clear to you that he greatly favored the idea. With a small shake of your head you pressed against his chest more insistently, prompting him to clamber off of you.

With as much bravado as you could muster you ordered Zoro to lie on his back, which he smoothly obliged to, crossing his arms behind his head over the pillow. You shuffled up the length of his body until you could plant your rear on his thighs, excitement tingling up your spine as you were able to get another good look at his defined torso — of those broad muscles and that firm chest, those tempting abs and that v-line carved by the gods which led all the way down to his cock, which was standing in a proud tent between his legs. So big and thick.

You swallowed down your sudden nerves and reached out tentatively to plant your palm just beneath his navel, sucking in a sharp breath at the firm muscle beneath. It sent shudders of arousal through your body — his body was just too sexy, all firm and sculpted, every angle sharp and defined.

“Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna do something?” Zoro drawled, snapping you out of your reverie. Your eyes met his, which were twinkling with amusement, and you huffed out a laugh, feeling more than a little awkward at being caught; even though the events that had just transpired should be far more embarrassing than being caught gawking at him.

You slid your hand down, intent on unbuttoning Zoro’s pants, but found a hindrance in the form of his haramaki, which was still wrapped around his waist. You sighed and tapped the red stretch of fabric.

“You’ll need to take this off, Zoro.” You murmured, tracing the lines with the tip of your fingers.

“Nah, just push it up. I’m comfortable here.” Zoro responded coolly, and you rolled your eyes at his antics.

“You’ll still need to lift up a little in order for me to do that.”

Zoro huffed but complied nonetheless, lifting his torso up and surprising you by lifting the haramaki up himself and hiking it until it rested just below his pecs before returning to his original position. Somehow, the sight was incredibly erotic, and you felt your pussy suddenly heat up and clench around nothing. To your relief, the brief interaction between the two of you had wiped away the nervous energy you had developed, and when you finally unbuttoned Zoro’s pants and sprung his cock free, all you could feel was red hot arousal and anticipation.

You knew that Zoro was huge, but what you felt through his pants didn’t do any justice to his true size. Drool accumulated quickly in your mouth as you gazed at his hard-on, standing straight up, long and thick, thicker than any other other cock you’d ever seen, with a tan base nestled into fine pubes and a bulbous tip, which was already leaking clear fluid.

“Oh, fuck.” You breathed out, eyes wide and lips parted. It looked so… tantalizing, and the stretch promised to your mouth and throat was far too enticing for you to stall any longer. You wrapped a gentle hand around Zoro, pulling a small groan from his lips, and pumped it up once, reveling in the way he fit inside your palm.

You shifted your hips and nearly gasped when your bare clit rubbed against the rough fabric of his pants, stretched taut over the muscle of his thigh, and before you could stop yourself you began gently thrusting your hips forward, chasing more of that pleasurable friction.

Your actions pulled a small chuckle from Zoro, prompting you to flick your eyes up to his. With a boyish smirk that shouldn’t have been so hot Zoro asked, “are you gonna get off on my thigh while you suck me?”

“Maybe I will,” you shot back, suddenly wanting nothing more than to wipe that cool smirk of his face, to suck that nonchalant bravado straight into desperation — you leaned down and closed your lips around his tip, dipping your tongue into the slit and gathering up the salty pre beaded within before circling it with the flat of your tongue.

“Shit.” Zoro hissed, hips jerking upward and cramming more of his cock past your lips, the sudden and visceral reaction sending heat straight to your cunt. Zoro’s taste was heady and salty, settling on your tongue almost as heavy as his cock itself — and it was driving you crazy, the effects of his taste more powerful than an aphrodisiac.

You abandoned his tip in favor of swallowing down more of his cock, getting only to about halfway before meeting the resistance of your throat — his tip was already teasing the sensitive flesh of your tonsils, filling out your mouth and spreading a soreness over your jaws that was simply satisfying. You’d sucked others off before, and enjoyed it a decent amount, but with Zoro… you were starting to wonder why you hadn’t done it sooner.

You bobbed your head up and down, stroking what you couldn’t fit with your hand, twisting it every so often, which pulled the most delicious reactions from Zoro; his hips would twitch as if he was holding back from fucking into your throat, and his hand had drifted down not too long after you started, grabbing your hair and wrapping it into a ponytail with his fist, and now he was guiding your speed using the leverage.

“Fuuuck, that’s it… feels so good, baby…” Zoro breathed, cock twitching against your tongue as if confirming his statement physically. You moaned around his cock, pulling another sweet sounding sigh from his lips. Zoro’s words and moans acted as the perfect encouragement, pushing you to widen your lips and take him just a little deeper, pressing on until his tip parted your tonsils and slid down your throat.

But you underestimated the effect that would have on Zoro, and in the next instant you gagged around his thickness as Zoro tightened his hold on your hair and held your head in place as he shoved his hips up, pushing his cock further into your throat and completely cutting off your air supply. You retracted your hand from his cock and placed both of your palms flat on his hips, desperately trying to shove them down and pull yourself off of his cock. But Zoro held fast, and his hips continued to buck against your hold, pulling wet gags and coughs from your throat as it was repeatedly speared by his dick.

“Come on, baby, bear with it. I’ve been waiting so long. Lemme fuck your face for a bit.” Zoro growled out breathily, and the command acted as some sort of relaxant to your muscles as you stopped resisting immediately, pussy beginning to throb from the sensation of your throat being opened up by his thick cock.

“Yeah, baby, good girl. Such a good girl. Sucking me so good. Get it nice and wet, princess. Go ahead and fuck yourself on my thigh, too.”

With that, Zoro set a relentless pace with his hips, repeatedly pushing his tip past your tonsils and forcing you to take him nearly to the hilt with every thrust. It hurt, you couldn’t breathe, but it was so fucking hot, the sounds and feeling of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth sloppily conjuring multiple fantasies of it doing the same to your pussy, ravaging it and destroying it. Zoro was fucking your mouth so fast, so hard, you could only imagine how it would feel inside your cunt. Your hips began to grind in fast, short thrusts against his thigh, your wetness soaking into the fabric of his pants, clit absolutely singing from the friction.

“Fuck, fuck, okay, enough. Don’t wanna cum yet.” Zoro huffed from between clenched teeth, pulling his cock free from your mouth with a wet pop. You coughed and blinked back tears, flicking your eyes up to meet Zoro’s, a shiver running up your spine at the sheer abyss they reflected; Zoro looked absolutely wrecked, his tan skin flushed and lips shiny with spit, sweat beading his forehead, which was dotted with stray hairs slickened to his skin.

Zoro looked fucking amazing, and your pussy clenched around nothing. You wanted to see more of that expression, wanted to watch his face contort into pleasure as he lost himself in your tight virgin hole — you weren’t sure where that scared, nervous girl from before had went, but there wasn’t a single trace of her in you now, and it seemed that Zoro had picked up on that, too.

“Get your ass up here,” he rasped huskily, and you obeyed immediately, skin pimpling when the tip of his cock brushed along the span of your torso the whole way up. God, he was so fucking huge.

“You’re gonna ride me, baby. Does that sound good to you?” Zoro asked, and you nodded fervently. Honestly, any position would be amazing, so it didn’t really bother you either way. Zoro smirked up at you and gripped your hips the moment they were within reach, planting you down just below his cock, which stood straight up, the tip slapping right above your belly button.

Zoro’s eyes zeroed in on the sight, and he breathed a curse under his breath — it seemed that the visual was highly stimulating to him.

“Fuck, baby. How deep do you think you can take it?”

You glanced down as well, nerves fluttering briefly in your stomach as you took in the sheer size of his cock, the visual aid providing you with an example of just how far his dick could actually go — and it was just as scary as it was enticing. That monster would stir you up completely.

“Probably not all the way,” you answered honestly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and worrying it. You definitely wouldn’t be able to take it all the way right now, but later on down the road…

“We have all the time in the world for that, baby,” Zoro mused, as if reading your thoughts, cock twitching against your stomach. “But right now, I really need to be inside you.”

Your throat vibrated with a deep moan and you lifted yourself on to your knees, shuffling forward until your core was positioned directly above Zoro’s cock. The nerves were back again, but you swallowed them down and lowered yourself slowly, gasping when his tip parted your folds and pressed ever so slightly against your entrance.

Fuck, it’s a lot bigger than I thought.

You screwed your eyes shut and took a deep breath, holding it inside your lungs as you forced yourself lower. Even with the aid of spit and slick, the press was highly uncomfortable, Zoro’s cockhead feeling too impossibly big to actually fit, and tears pricked in your eyes at the pain blooming across your cunt.

Zoro’s hands tightened on your hips, stilling your descent and coaxing your eyes open.

“We don’t have to do it.” Zoro said, gently, eyes soft and face sewn with slight worry.

For a reason that was completely inexplicable to you, Zoro’s expression and words struck a chord of frustration inside you — because there was something else in his eyes, too, something that said he didn’t think you could do this, that you couldn’t take the pain; and, even more irritatingly, that you didn’t want this nearly as much as he did.

In lieu of a verbal answer you placed one of your palms on his firm chest to stabilize yourself, the other reaching back to grab hold of his shin, and in one swift movement you slammed your hips down.

That one action set off an explosive chain reaction — pain ripped through your entire lower half, clawing its way up until it reached your stomach, which seemed to collapse and twist in on itself; Zoro’s hands flew from your hips and one covered your mouth and absorbed your scream while the other gripped the plump flesh of your thigh; Zoro’s torso had curled up from the pallet so that he could reach your body easier, and the shift in position caused his cock to dig painfully into your walls, which only resulted in more yelps and whimpers into his palm.

“Fuck, baby, shit, why — why did you do that?” Zoro whispered breathily, voice caught between seething and desperate, teeth clenched tightly and brows furrowed — the lines in his face were wrought with barely contained pleasure that bled through the disbelief.

Tears pricked warmly at the corners of your eyes as you stared down at him defiantly, triumph and withdrawal both trying desperately to win dominance over your body. Pain was still radiating between your shaking legs, the spear currently impaled in your cunt stretching you in all ways and to degrees you never once thought possible — you’d only ever managed to have a finger inside you, and even that stretch was uncomfortable, straining against your hymen, bringing forth more discomfort than pleasure; and Zoro’s dick offered that tenfold.

But you’d taken it. Even though it burned, it hurt, even though it was still hurting, pain blooming across your abdomen in frenzied waves — you were finally connected with Zoro in the way you’d craved for the past week. Your relationship had finally been taken to the most intimate of levels, and it was absolutely euphoric. You shook Zoro’s hand away from your lips so you could speak.

“B-because there’s no point in taking it slow,” you gasped out, fingers digging red crescents into Zoro’s flesh. “It’s going to hurt either way, and I’d rather get past the pain and get to the good part sooner.”

Zoro’s torso collapsed back onto the pallet and his lips parted in a heavy sigh. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.” Zoro breathed, eyes glued to the ceiling and wide with shock — and something else that you couldn’t put your finger on, but it stirred your gut nonetheless with its appearance.

You felt so fucking full — it felt as though Zoro’s cock had shot straight into your stomach, and when you shifted your hips ever so slightly, you yelped out at the intense pain that shot through your abdomen.

“Baby, don’t move yet,” Zoro groaned out, his entire body tensing beneath you. “You haven’t gotten used to it yet.”

“Only one way to do that,” you smarted back, holding in a deep breath and gyrating your hips, swallowing back a scream at the intense pain. Zoro’s cockhead was pressing against your cervix heavily and relentlessly — it was so much to take, and you hadnt fully recovered from the shock of taking him all the way in one shot.

“Fuck, stop,” Zoro’s growled, and you obeyed immediately, much to Zoro’s visible delight. His hands met your hips once more, fingers digging into the flesh, and pain zipped up your body when he gently gyrated his hips, his tip completely rearranging your cervix’s position, and at your gasp of pain he stopped.

“This position is too much for you.” Zoro murmured, tapping the back of your hip with his finger. “Lay back and let me do it.”

Truthfully, you were more than happy to let Zoro take control; the weight of controlling the pace when you were in so much pain was proving to be quite heavy, and you trusted Zoro to make it feel good — he could do so way better than you could.

You began to rise, slowing your ascent when Zoro commanded you to, and your pussy fluttered at the sedated slide of Zoro’s thick cock against your walls. It was a strange sensation, not completely painful but not completely pleasurable either — but it was intense, and when Zoro’s cock slid out with a soft, wet pop, you found yourself craving more of that sensation.

Your legs shook when you clambered back and off of him, pain still radiating within your lower belly even though his cock was no longer buried inside, and the rough, flat surface of the floor beneath the pallet felt like heaven to your exhausted body when you laid flush atop it.

Zoro was quick to follow you, climbing up your body and sidling between your legs with a comfortable weight. You couldn’t help but feel that he fit so perfectly between your thighs, as if the space between them was created just for him.

“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” Zoro gently commanded, a hand moving up to help you lift your leg and position it around his waist when he noticed the slight sluggishness of your movements. You locked your ankles together at the small of his back without prompting, which earned you a delicious coo of “good girl.”

“Hold on to me baby, it’s still going to hurt.” Zoro whispered, his voice filled with somethig soft, and you brought your hands up to connect your fingers together behind his warm nape. Excitement was fluttering in your chest, heart beating thunderously and breaths quick and heavy — even the promise of pain couldn’t dull your anticipation, and when Zoro slid a hand down to line himself up with your entrance, it simply multiplied tenfold.

“Breathe.” Zoro commanded, and you did so, only for the air to be directly punched from your lungs when Zoro slid his cock in, your walls spreading impossibly wide from the intrusion and fresh waves of pain crashing into your belly. You knew your hymen had broken when you slammed him in, knew that the tender membrane was no longer intact, but somehow your pussy was still ripping as if it was, the sensation simultaneously painful and breathtaking.

“Breathe, baby, breathe.” Zoro cooed, his voice an anchor to cling to as your body threatened to be pulled beneath the waves of pain, and you pulled his head down to crash his lips into yours.

Zoro’s lips felt like tender slices of heaven, soft and wet, and when they moved against yours in gentle caresses you felt utterly complete. Zoro was inside you, you were wrapped around him, walls fluttering, your bodies connected in a physical deepening of your bond. It was everything; and you wanted everything and more.

“Move, Zoro, please,” you whispered between kisses, body and mind overrun by the desire to please Zoro, for Zoro to please you, for that connection to be taken to new heights. Zoro groaned heavily against your lips, and his mouth swallowed the soft whimpers that were pulled from your throat as he began to pump his hips slowly.

Every thrust brought immeasurable amounts of pain, but it was overrun by pleasure that originated from more than just the physical slide of his cock against your walls; it was addicting, euphoric in its agony, and you needed more.

As if innately sensing your desires, Zoro’s hips picked up speed, his cock now battering into you at a velocity that was near too much, but it felt so heavenly — it put you on the brink of breaking, on the brink of completely losing your mind.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” Zoro moaned hotly into your mouth, his hips stuttering ever so slightly, his hand reaching up to grope at one of your tits, which were still covered by the fabric of your bra. Your breath hitched at the combined stimulation of his cock splitting your walls and his fingers massaging your flesh, the eagerness behind the gentle touch throwing your brain into a frenzy.

“D-does it hurt you?” You asked tentatively, amazed at your own ability to actually form and speak life into a coherent thought, and your question pulled a deep, dry chuckle from Zoro’s throat.

“Gods, no, baby. It doesn’t hurt. It feels too good, actually.” There was something dark and promising within Zoro’s husky tone, and it sent pleasant trembles up your body. He sounded so wrecked, so fucked out, as if he was completely drowning in the sensation of your wet, sloppy pussy — and wasn’t that a wonderful thought?

“It feels g-good?” You whispered, wanting nothing more than to hear Zoro mutter those words again, to hear his verbal confirmation of how much your pussy was pleasing him, the desire so strong that it was nearly overpowering.

“So good, baby. Your pussy is sucking me in like it can’t get enough.” Zoro held no hesitation in responding, the tone of his voice slightly smug, as if he knew what his words were doing to you — and he probably did. Wet slaps and squelches ricocheted off the walls, your pussy practically screaming its approval of the abuse Zoro was hammering into it with his cock. Your moans were beginning to increase in volume; the pain had nearly completely dissipated, replaced by a satisfying sense of fullness and extreme pleasure. Zoro’s cock was able to hit every single good spot within your pussy, even the ones you had no idea existed; and the gentle bumps of his tip against your cervix were driving you absolutely delirious.

“It feels good f-for me, too.” You punched out between harsh thrusts, though part of you felt the verbal confirmation was unneeded; your moans were evidence enough, as was the increasing fluttering and tightening of your walls around his cock — the drag and slide of his cock was sloppy, aided by the slick your connection was pulling from your pussy. But it seemed as though Zoro appreciated the verbalization anyway, as his cock throbbed within your cunt, and a deep groan fell from his lips.

“Yeah? You like how my cock fills your pussy up?” Zoro murmured hotly, lips tracing down your cheek, your jaw, then attaching themselves to your neck, peppering it with wet, open mouthed kisses. Zoro’s words, thrusts, and attentions pulled a whiny moan from your throat, and you nodded vigorously. Slick gushed around the girth of his cock as his words went straight to your gut, pulling on the strings of that coil and tightening it.

“Fuck, yeah, you like it when I talk like that.” Zoro growled into your skin, the phrase not even a question, but you nodded your confirmation anyway. You really did like it, the way those words and filthy mutterings fell syrupy from his lips, the things they did to your body, the way they intensified the pleasure.

Zoro’s hips were moving at an inhuman speed now, drilling his cock ever faster inside your slick, sloppy cunt, and the sensation was absolutely mind blowing. Your orgasm was building quickly in your gut, effectively melting all coherency from your brain, reducing you to nothing but a moaning, trembling, drooling mess beneath Zoro.

“God, look at you baby. My cock is drivin’ you absolutely fuckin’ dumb. Shit, it feels like I’m corruptin’ you.”

Zoro’s voice was no more than a husky growl, words slurred and punctuated by harsh, pointed thrusts into your pussy, which squelched and twitched with every slide of his thick cock. It felt so fucking good, he was fucking you so good, so fast and hard, you were breaking —

“You’re gonna fuckin’ cum soon, aren’t you, baby? Do it. Fuckin’ do it on my cock, baby.”

You could only answer Zoro with a symphony of wanton moans, your legs tightening around his waist as he drove you into euphoria with his cock, so thick and long, hitting you in all the right places, rearranging your insides and driving you insane. His words were like hot brands in your ear, shooting fire straight through your veins and heating you from the inside out; you were close now, tip toeing on that precipice of complete, consuming pleasure.

“Z-Zoro, please,” you choked out, toes curling and back arching as his cock relentlessly abused your walls, your gut clenching from the build-up of pleasure. You let out a surprised squeal when Zoro’s teeth nicked the sensitive flesh of your neck; it was no more than a fleeting graze of his incisors, but when it was combined with his harsh thrusts and commanding sexual aura, it was nearly too much.

“‘Please’ what, baby? You want me to make you cum? Then beg me.” Zoro’s voice was blanketed with dark lust, commanding and so, so alluring – but frustration nipped at your body when Zoro’s hips slowed, driving his cock fully into you with each thrust, but not giving you anywhere near the pleasure or friction you needed for that coil to snap. Your orgasm receded like waves returning to the ocean, and you whimpered out in frustration.

“D-don’t stop, Zoro.” You pleaded, hands falling from his nape to scratch down the skin of his shoulder blades, pulling a hiss from his lips. His hips continued to simply grind slowly into you, and as if retaliating against you, he stopped thrusting completely, and his cock remained buried with your cunt as he rocked his hips forward. It felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough — not enough to send you over that brink. You needed Zoro to pound into you, to drive his thick cock into your sloppy cunt at inhuman velocity, to use you and break you and ruin you.

“Ask nicely, baby. Use your words, and beg me to make you cum.”

Something sharp and hot speared through your gut, and the authority in his words brought a rolling fog into your brain, and before you could comprehend anything you were digging your nails into his flesh and complying to his order.

“P-please, Zoro. Please, I need it. Please make me cum, sir. Please, I’ll be so good—”

“Shit,” Zoro muttered darkly, lifting his hand from your hip and sliding it beneath your head to bring your head up and bury it into the crook of his neck. His other arm slid into the space that your head had previously occupied on the pallet and his hips shifted, as if he were stabilizing himself.

“Hold on to me baby, I’m not stopping ‘til you cum all over my cock.” Zoro growled, shooting anticipation straight through your muscles and brain.

“Yes, yes, please—” you chanted, voice suddenly cut off by a loud moan when Zoro pulled all the way out, until only his tip remained inside your sopping walls, and then drove forward with a heavy thrust that sent your whole body jolting forward from the impact. Pain and pleasure bloomed across your abdomen as his tip roughly battered your swollen cervix; but Zoro didn’t give you any time to recover, as he repeated the same thrust over and over again at a rapid fire pace.

The flesh of your thighs stung from the harsh impact of his hips against them, and the harmony of slapping skin, squelching, moaning and grunts filled the bubble of heat around your bodies. Pleasure was building so fast within your gut that it was dizzying, your body approaching that high far quicker than you were fully prepared for. Each slide of Zoro’s thick cock within you brought stars to your vision, and your fingers scrabbled desperately along the skin of his back as you lost yourself in the sensation.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, yes, feels so good — d-don’t stop, please don’t stop, fuck me—” Zoro was panting heavily now, his own hips shaking and body dripping sweat, the physical exertion of fucking you into oblivion beginning to weigh on his muscles; but Zoro didn’t stop, nor did his pace falter, hips continuing to drill into you within inhuman speed, and before you could so much as give a verbal warning of your orgasm, it was crashing over you with the force of a tsunami.

“Cumming—” you gasped into Zoro’s neck, fingernails digging crescents into his shoulder blades as your entire body shook, waves of pleasure wrecking every nerve ending beneath your skin. Your cunt fluttered and twitched around Zoro’s cock as he continued to drive it into you, fucking you straight through your high as it crashed against you and slowly tapered out.

“That’s it, baby, so fuckin’ good. Good girl, such a fuckin’ good girl.” Zoro growled heavily, and you squealed when his thrusts grew harsher, fucking into your body at a rhythm that was far more feral than the previous. Your cunt squeezed tightly around him as the pleasure became far too intense, now bordering on painful. You whimpered into Zoro’s skin, which resulted in him shushing you.

“I know baby, fuck. Just bear with it a little longer — I’m so close now.”

You nodded and clutched at Zoro’s undulating body harder, taking deep breaths through your nose as your body was wracked with overstimulation with every thrust. Zoro’s balls slapped heavily against your ass as he pounded into you relentlessly, driving slick and wet squelches from your ruined pussy.

“Almost, fuck, almost. Gonna cum soon.” Zoro panted, hips stuttering and faltering, his cock twitching heavily against your walls, the sensation setting your nerves alight with anticipation. You wanted Zoro to cum, you wanted him to pump it into your pussy and fuck it deeper inside, until it was completely absorbed by your pliant body. You wanted him to mark you as his forever.

“Yes, yes, Zoro — cum in me, fill me up, please—”

“Fuck, here it comes — take all of it.” Zoro growled, thrusts momentarily growing even faster before the man above you stilled and released a guttural groan as his cock hardened inside you, twitching, throbbing, and you whimpered at the extreme heat that bloomed inside your walls in the next instant. That was Zoro’s cum, he was filling you up with it, fucking it back inside with short, hasty thrusts as he rode out his orgasm.

After what seemed like a lifetime of Zoro pumping hot cum inside your body he completely stilled, body trembling against yours ever so slightly as he sucked in lungfuls of air. You did the same, your pussy still twitching and throbbing from the aftermath of your own orgasm, milking out every last drop from Zoro’s softening cock.

“Fuck.” Zoro said with a dry chuckle, and you nodded with a slow-forming smile. Though he’d only said one word, you knew exactly what he was talking about; and you shared the sentiment wholly.

“That was amazing.” You whispered, dragging your lips affectionately across the sweaty skin of his shoulder. Zoro’s fingers scratched at your scalp and his chest vibrated against yours when he hummed.

“Yeah, it was. I can’t believe you let me take your virginity.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” You asked quizzically, treading your fingertips over his shoulder blade with a featherlight touch.

“Dunno. Just never thought you’d want me to take it.” Zoro said with a subtle shrug, and you swallowed down a whimper when Zoro slowly pulled his cock out of you. It popped out with an embarrassing squelch, and you shivered as hot fluid dripped from your pussy to the sheets — they’d need to be thoroughly washed.

“Shit, we made a mess.” Zoro murmured as he guided your head back down to rest on the sheets, and you let out a breathy giggle.

“It’s fine. I like the mess.” You wisped, sending Zoro a lopsided, tired grin, which he returned. “Now get down here and hold me. I wanna cuddle.”

Zoro shook his head lightly at your antics but followed your command, rearranging himself until he was planted beside you. You habitually turned on your side and allowed Zoro to circle your waist with one of his arms, pulling you back until your backside was flush with his front. Your all-time favorite cuddle position.

Fatigue was hitting you like a raging bull, and you couldn’t stop your lips from splitting into a yawn or your eyelids from slipping close. Zoro planted a chaste, sweet kiss to the skin of your neck and whispered,

“Goodnight, baby.”

You twisted your head until you could reach his lips with your own, and you captured them into a slow, loving kiss. It lacked any heated or sensual passion, but it was full of tender love and adoration. Afterglow was amazing, you mused. You were happy, content, your body so satisfyingly achy and exhausted, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else at the moment.

Before you could fully drift off to sleep, you murmured, “of course I gave you my virginity. I love you more than anything.”

Slumber claimed before you could register Zoro’s response, but even in your sleep there was no mistaking the sentiment behind the way Zoro’s arm curled ever tighter around your stomach.

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houseofanticipation · 7 months

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Read from the beginning

You're having a nightmare. In it Master has his cock down your throat. You're gagging, trying to breathe, but he's not giving you a moment to rest. His cock seems impossibly long, and your esophagus impossibly deep; every time you think you've reached the bottom of his shaft, he seems to go a few inches deeper. Tears are streaming down your face, drool hanging off your chin, sweat collecting on your forehead. But the rape—in the dream you know it's rape, though you have no idea how you got here or where you are or even what your surroundings look like—the rape isn't what makes it a nightmare. In fact, for as violent as it should feel, the rape is actually fairly peaceful. The part that terrifies you, fills your dreaming mind with such inescapable dread, is how badly you want it.

His cock must be miles long at this point. His thrusting is speeding up, his broad hands gripping your head more tightly, his nails digging into your skin. You feel him begin to bulge, expand with what must be liters of cum, but his cock is so long that the process isn't instant. The bulge of cum travels down his shaft, like a cartoon character shoved through a pipe too small for them. You feel, and somehow also see, the bulge shooting down your throat, ever deeper, seeming to gain size and speed as it goes. It will be at the head any second now, and when that happens this desperate hunger inside you will finally be sated. You find yourself trembling with need, and simultaneously gripped with absolute terror at just how complete that need is. The two feelings merge into one, a heart-pounding breath-catching spine-tingling skin-crawling something that is too intense to be either good or bad. You know the moment his cum hits your throat, everything will change.

And then you wake up.

The dream ends before you open your eyes. For a long moment you can't move at all; every muscle in your body is seized up in fear, and you can't seem to remember how to relax. You feel something running down your perineum to your ass, and you realize with disgust that your pussy is dripping wet.

The bed of the slave suite is nicer than the one you have at home. (Had at home. It's not like that stuff is yours anymore.) The mattress is huge and perfectly goldilocks-ed between soft and firm, and the silk sheets feel incredible on your naked body. You never sleep naked, but in sheets this soft you might not mind being forced to. As your body begins to relax and you're able to move again, you find yourself stretching out, luxuriating in the bed, allowing its softness to envelop you.

You hear the electronic whir of the lock on your door, and moments later Master is there in a black silk robe, watching you. You sit up and lift the sheet to cover yourself—an odd time to get self conscious, maybe, but you feel the need to control something—but he gives his head a little shake. "Take that off. There's no hiding your body from me." You let the sheet fall, and resist the urge to cross your arms over your breasts. But you sit with your knees together, so he can't see how wet you are. That, at least, he doesn't seem to notice.

"Today is obedience training," says Master. "I doubt it will be enough to completely break your will; that takes time. But at the very least you'll learn my rules, and what happens when you break them. Now, time for your first lesson. Lay on your back and spread your legs."

You wonder how much you can allow before it becomes your fault. Last night you had no choice, you were tied up. You couldn't move, much less stop him as he fucked you. Raped you, you remind yourself. But you're not tied up this morning. You could fight back, at least try to fight back. If you don't try to do anything to stop him, doesn't that mean a part of you wants him to do it again? You need to prove that you don't want him to do it again. You press your knees tighter together and stare at him defiantly.

He just smiles. "Mmm, you're resistant. That's good, it means you get to learn this lesson early." Before you can think he's lunging toward you, his robe billowing open behind him. Under it he wears only a pair of black silk boxers and through them you can see how hard his cock is. This is his favorite part.

He's on you in less than a second, and you're relieved to find that your fight-or-flight response really does kick in. With no option to flee you find yourself beating against him with your fists, kicking with your legs, trying to wrestle out of his grasp, but he is larger and stronger than you in every count. He gets on top of you, his swollen cock twitching against your stomach, and wraps his hands around your throat. You tug at his arms, try to buck him off, but the harder you struggle the tighter his grip gets, and the weaker you feel. You look up into his eyes and see them gleaming with amusement. You stop resisting.

He holds you there a moment longer, letting you plead with your eyes, letting spots play across your vision, before he relaxes his grip and allows you to gasp for air. He does not get off you, nor does he fully release your neck. "I am stronger than you. I am faster than you. I am smarter than you. You cannot overpower me, you cannot outrun me, and you cannot outthink me. Do you understand?"

You stare into his eyes. You can't be sure how clever he is, but he's definitely not lying about the other two. "I understand." Then, remembering yourself, you add, "Master." You feel his cock move when you call him that.

"Good," he says. "Now, because you resisted me I'm going to have to hurt you. You're still learning the rules, so I won't go too hard, but understand that the more you resist the worse it will get. Are you ready?"

What else can you say? "Yes, Master."

He slaps you very hard across the face. Pain shivers across your skin, making your eyes tear up. You thought he hit you yesterday, but that was nothing. That was just getting your attention. He pulls his hand back and when he hits you again it's a little better, because you can steel yourself for it, and a little worse, because he hits harder. As the immediate pain fades, the skin he struck feels tingly and hot. You close your eyes as he raises his hand again, and then he's taking your nipples between his fingers and pinching quite hard. This one surprises you—you suspect that was the point—and you yelp, though to be honest the pain is brief and not as bad as the slaps. You feel his cock strain against his boxers, and take a mental note: he likes when you cry out. Does that mean you should be more vocal, hoping he'll get what he wants and move on, or stay quiet, hoping he gets frustrated and gives up?

You don't take Master for a man who gives up easily.

Indeed, it seems like he's done punishing you for now, though whether that was always his intention or he was waiting for you to cry is anyone's guess. He rubs your cheek tenderly with the same hand he was just using to strike it, brushing away the tears the pain brought to your eyes. "There, there," he says. "I don't want to hurt you..." He looks down at his cock, rock hard against your stomach, and laughs. "Well, you can probably tell that's a lie, but it's no fun when you haven't earned it. Do as you're told, try your best, and I won't hurt you very badly. I may spank you for making mistakes, but that's just responsible slave keeping. Now, are you ready to cooperate?"

He's shown you it's useless to resist, at least head-on. All you'll get for fighting back is more pain, and he promised to make it worse next time. So you say, "Yes Master."

"Good," he says, finally getting off you. "Now. Spread your legs." You do as he says, and notice with some surprise that you are no longer ashamed of your nudity. Maybe those slaps knocked something loose in you, whatever part of your mind was still clinging to the idea of preserving your honor. You're going to have to give up on pride if you want to survive this situation.

Master kneels at the foot of your bed to get eye level with your groin, and makes an appreciative sound. "It really is a beautiful pussy. You'd go for quite a lot with a pussy like that, even with that attitude of yours. Not that I'm planning on selling you anytime soon. Anyway, go ahead and play with yourself."

You lift your head to look at him, trying to tell if he means what you think he means. What else could he be talking about? It just seems out of character, having you pleasure yourself without pleasuring him. "You heard me," he says. "Masturbate, like you would in your own home. This is your home, after all."

"Yes, Master." You lay your head back on the pillow and lower your hand to your pussy. It's still quite wet from the dream, but you take a moment to warm up anyway: running your fingers over your pussy lips, tracing wide circles around your clitoris, just waking yourself up, getting used to the touch. Then you dip a finger inside yourself, getting it nice and wet, and start using it to touch your clit. Softly at first, just quick swipes across, then longer, slower. You're afraid to tell him you won't get far without something to get you in the mood, something hot to read or watch. But you soon realize that this clit routine is working better than expected: you can feel the orgasm building up faster than you'd have thought for the situation. It's like your pussy doesn't know the difference between fear and arousal. Anything that gets the blood pumping is good enough for me, sweet pea.

As you begin to moan, you find your mind straying unbidden to the way you felt last night, completely helpless, Master on top of you and inside you. You remember the way his cock swelled up when you struggled, the way his eyes looked as he rubbed your clit. You think of the dream, wonder what his cum would have tasted like. He takes you by the wrist and pulls your hand away gently, but before you can protest there's something else touching you, wet and soft and wonderful. It's his tongue, you think, but you don't look. Seeing him doing it would remind you where you are, and you don't want to be reminded. You just want to stare at the the ceiling and lavish in this sensation.

He does it exactly like you would have done it. Somehow, just by watching you for a few minutes, he's figured out exactly how you'd like to be touched. Only somehow he's doing it better. It's like he know what you want next before you do, understands your pussy better than you understand it yourself. As the pleasure mounts you begin to close your legs around his head, barely even noticing as you do it, but without stopping he presses them firmly back into the bed and holds them there. You arch your back, close your eyes, allow yourself to moan unabashedly.

And then he pulls back. The feeling lingers for a moment before falling back, settling down, leaving you twitching and whimpering. Operating on instinct you reach down to bring back the pleasure, but he catches your wrist. "From now on any pleasure you feel comes by my permission. You do not touch yourself without my say so. You do not cum until I feel you have earned it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Would you like to earn it?"

The feeling has receded enough to let you think more clearly, and the shame is creeping in on you. Knowing how much you needed him in that moment, how you would have done anything for him to make you cum, let him hurt you or degrade you or humiliate you. You hate giving him that power; you know the more power you give him over you the harder it will be to escape.

You also know how desperately you want to cum.

"Please Master," you say, voice shaking. "Let me earn it. Let me earn the right to cum."

You can see in his eyes and in his cock how much he likes that. "Good girl."

Being Master's fuckdoll turns out to be more than just sitting around and waiting for him to pump some cum into you. Your entire life is to be dedicated to increasing his pleasure. After breakfast (a bowl of plain oatmeal that you eat with your hands, no spoon having been provided) Master shows you how he likes his shoulders rubbed after a long day at work. You take to it quickly, and you're surprised how satisfying it is to hear his appreciative groans as you dig your thumbs into his tense musculature. He puts his tongue on you again, this time laying you out on the living room sofa, letting you whimper and moan, but he still doesn't allow you to cum. The next thing he teaches you is how to greet guests when they come over: where to put their coats, how you're expected to touch them, if and when to suck their cocks. You make a few mistakes in the practice runs he makes you do—it's a lot to take in, and it gets harder to focus each time he brings you close to orgasm—but you do pretty well. When the lesson is over he lays you across his lap and spanks you mercilessly, his cock hardening again as you whine and cry and beg his forgiveness. When he's done he says, "only ten spanks is better than most girls get for that lesson. You're a natural learner." You have to remind yourself not to be proud of that accomplishment. And then he licks you again, and any thoughts in your head go out the window.

That's the pattern for the rest of the day: Master gives you a lesson in how to behave in his house. He spanks you for each mistake you made during the lesson. Then he brings you right up to the edge of orgasm. He teaches you how to mix his favorite drinks, and when he'll want one. He ties you up in a number of different ways, showing you the right positions to assume to make it easier for him. He shows you the different ways he likes you to sit with him in the living room as he reads a book or watches a movie: your favorite is when he stretches out on the couch and lets you cuddle his leg, your head in his lap. He pretends not to notice as you gently grind your clit against his bare calf, but the swelling of his cock betrays him. As long as you don't cum, you think, he'll let you get away with it.

Each time he stops you from cumming you get a little more desperate, a little more delirious. You make more mistakes as the day goes on, and he has to spank you more with each lesson, but a funny thing is starting to happen. Because spanking always immediately precedes his tongue on your clit, you find yourself starting to get wet as soon as his hand strikes your ass. It hurts, but you don't mind the pain—you kind of like it even. It's exhilarating, makes you feel warm and tingly, and you think it heightens the pleasure when he starts touching you more tenderly. By the end of the day he doesn't even have to spank you: you can feel yourself getting wet as soon as you're in position.

It doesn't escape Master's notice. He runs his fingers along your vulva, sending a delicious chill up your spine, and gives your head a scratch. Nobody's ever done that to you before, but since he started doing it this morning you can't get enough of it; you whimper with pleasure, melting into the couch and into his lap. "You're beginning to like your punishments," he says. "You're a good girl, good girls know how good it feels to get what you deserve. Just so long as you aren't acting up on purpose to make me spank you. If that starts happening I'll need to find another way to hurt you."

You shake your head vigorously. "No Master, never!" And you mean it; it wouldn't feel as good if you knew you hadn't earned it for one of your stupid mistakes.

"Good," says Master. "I think you're ready for your final lesson of the day." He moves you off his lap without giving you your spanking, which disappoints you a little, but when you get your face out of the sofa and turn around your heart leaps with sudden thrill. He has removed his boxers, letting his erection hang in front of you. "It's time you learned how to suck my cock."

Without you quite noticing, most of the shame has slipped away from you throughout the day, but you're reminded of it in this moment. You remember how much you wanted to taste him in your dream, how it felt disgusting and ecstatic and violating and thrilling all at the same time. You hate yourself for what you've already become; a day of orgasm denial and you're already his simpering little slut? Are you really that weak?

But what else should you do? Fight for your life, be punished over and over, live your life in a cage waiting until someone is ready to rape you? Isn't this way better? Why force yourself to be miserable when you can feel this good all the time? You can still work on your escape plan. It doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself along the way. So you leave your shame behind; let it fall off you like a coat you've grown too big for. You get on your knees in front of Master. You look up into his cold eyes. And you begin to suck his cock.

He likes you to look at him. That's good, because you like looking at him too. You like to see his face react to each movement of your lips, each flick of your tongue. His head is dripping with precum—you realize today's activities have probably teased him just as much as they did you, and he didn't even get the release you did. It's warm and salty and just flavorful enough to tease you after the three meals of oatmeal you've had today. You feel yourself dripping with anticipation of what his cum will taste like. You feel insane. You don't know if you've ever been this horny in your life.

He likes it when you lick that strip of skin on the underside of his head, but it's too much all on its own. He shows you how to switch it up, swirling the head of his cock around your tongue, pushing up and down his shaft with your lips and cheeks and throat. He's not interested in shoving himself down your throat with every thrust—he likes throatfucking, he says, but that's not what this is about. This is about you servicing him, not him masturbating with you as a proxy. Still, he likes it when you take his whole cock down your throat, especially when you use your hand to play with his balls at the same time.

At some point he transitions to sitting down, and you to laying belly-down on the couch with your head bobbing in his lap. He lays his head back and moans softly, and you swell with pride at how good you're able to make him feel. His hand is on the back your head, not pushing you onto him, just running his hand through your hair, scratching your scalp with his manicured nails. It feels so good you almost can't keep sucking. You wonder if anyone has ever cum from having their head scratched.

He's getting close. You can feel it in the way his cock swells, the way his fingers become more frenetic on your scalp. You close your eyes and you're back in the dream, watching the bulge of cum speed toward you, dying to know what he tastes like. Then he's gripping you by the hair and lifting you off him, letting your cheek rest on his thigh. "That's enough," he says. "Or you'll make me cum."

"No!" you say, whipping your head up to face him. "I mean, I'm sorry Master, just...please, please may I taste your cum?"

He stares into your eyes, that appraising expression seeming to penetrate your mind and slither through your darkest secrets. He strokes your cheek. "Usually I prefer to cum in your pussy," he says. "But today I'll make an exception, because you've been such a good girl."

You almost weep with relief. "Thank you Master. Thank you so much." You return your attention to his cock, and he moans with renewed pleasure. You feel his weight shifting, and a moment later his hand is sliding between you and the couch, and his fingers are working your clit exactly how you like it. You moan into his cock and lift your ass up to give him better access.

It doesn't take either of you very long. He was seconds away from bursting a moment ago, and you've been in a state of sustained arousal since this morning. He tells you to finish him off with that move he likes, licking under the head, so you do just that. As his fingers quicken across your clit and his cock stiffens in your mouth, you suck your lips onto his head, stroke his shaft with your hand, and flick your tongue across that strip of skin as fast as you can. His fingers reach a fever pitch and you find your ass raising further in the air as your legs straighten, your toes splay out, your back arches. A wonderful, aching glow pours through your pussy and into your stomach and you close your eyes as his cock finally erupts into your mouth. Mouthful after mouthful of warm, thick cum shoots out of him, almost faster than you can swallow, and you feel the dream of this morning melting away. The dream was hot, sure, but it can't stand up to real thing. The texture of his cum on your lips and tongue. The pleasure radiating through your body as his fingers softly stroke you clit and labia. The way it feels to have him in your stomach, like a part of him is becoming a part of you. The feeling of his softening cock against your lips, his balls in your mouth as you run a sensual hand through the hair on his legs. You close your eyes, trying to capture this moment forever.

He lets you stay there as he turns on the TV. You don't understand the show he's watching—it's in a language you don't speak, and your brain is too fluttery at the moment to follow the subtitles—but it doesn't matter. The feeling of his skin against your skin, his cock against your cheek, his hand playing absentmindedly through your hair...it's perfect bliss. Just this morning you were thinking about how to fight back, how to escape. Why would you ever want to leave if you get to feel like this everyday? You'll probably feel differently in the morning, but for right now you allow the moment to take you, let yourself be carried away on a wave of warm, happy calm.

Some time later you are dimly aware of him lifting you, carrying you, placing you in your bed. You snuggle into your lovely sheets, only half awake, and the last thing you remember is him lowering his head between your legs to give you a good night kiss.

#r@pe fantasy #r@pe kink #cnc free use #cvmslvt #cvmdump #r@petoy

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