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nellasbookplanet · 2 months

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Book recs: black science fiction

As february and black history month nears its end, if you're a reader let's not forget to read and appreciate books by black authors the rest of the year as well! If you're a sci-fi fan like me, perhaps this list can help find some good books to sink your teeth into.

Bleak dystopias, high tech space adventures, alien monsters, alternate dimensions, mash-ups of sci-fi and fantasy - this list features a little bit of everything for genre fiction fans!

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor

Something massive and alien crashes into the ocean off the coast of Nigeria. Three people, a marine biologist, a rapper, and a soldier, find themselves at the center of this presence, attempting to shepherd an alien ambassador as chaos spreads in the city. A strange novel that mixes the supernatural with the alien, shifts between many different POVs, and gives a one of a kind look at a possible first contact.

Nubia: The Awakening (Nubia series) by Omar Epps & Clarence A. Hayes

Young adult. Three teens living in the slums of an enviromentally ravaged New York find that something powerful is awakening within them. They’re all children of refugees of Nubia, a utopian African island nation that sank as the climate worsened, and realize now that their parents have been hiding aspects of their heritage from them. But as they come into their own, someone seeks to use their abilities to his own ends, against their own people.

The Scourge Between Stars by Ness Brown

Novella. After having failed at establishing a new colony, starship Calypso fights to make it back to Earth. Acting captain Jacklyn Albright is already struggling against the threats of interstellar space and impending starvation when the ship throws her a new danger: something is hiding on the ship, picking off her crew one by one in bloody, gruesome ways. A quick, excellent read if you want some good Alien vibes.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Includes darker examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.

Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson*

Utterly unique in world-building, story, and prose, Midnight Robber follows young Tan-Tan and her father, inhabitants of the Carribean-colonized planet of Toussaint. When her father commits a terrible crime, he’s exiled to a parallel version of the same planet, home to strange aliens and other human exiles. Tan-Tan, not wanting to lose her father, follows with him. Trapped on this new planet, he becomes her worst nightmare. Enter this book with caution, as it contains graphic child sexual abuse.

Rosewater (The Wormwood trilogy) by Tade Thompson

In Nigeria lies Rosewater, a city bordering on a strange, alien biodome. Its motives are unknown, but it’s having an undeniable effect on the surrounding life. Kaaro, former criminal and current psychic agent for the government, is one of the people changed by it. When other psychics like him begin getting killed, Kaaro must take it upon himself to find out the truth about the biodome and its intentions.

Do You Dream of Terra-Two? by Temi Oh

Young adult. A century ago, an astronomer discovered a possibly Earth-like planet. Now, a team of veteran astronauts and carefully chosen teenagers are preparing to embark on a twenty-three year trip to get there. But space is dangerous, and the team has no one to rely on but each other if - or when - something goes wrong. An introspective slowburn of a story, this focuses more on character work than action.

The Best of All Possible Worlds by Karen Lord

After the planet Sadira is left uninhabitable, its few survivors are forced to move to a new world. On Cygnus Beta, they work to rebuild their society alongside their distant relatives of the planet, while trying to preserve what remains of their culture. Focused less on hard science or action, The Best of All Possible Worlds is more about culture, romance and the ethics and practicalities of telepathy.

Mirage (Mirage duology) by Somaiya Daud

Young adult. Eighteen-year-old Amani lives on an isolated moon under the oppressive occupation of the Valthek empire. When Amani is abducted, she finds herself someplace wholly unexpected: the royal palace. As it turns out, she's nearly identical to the half-Valthek, and widely hated, princess Maram, who is in need of a body double. If Amani ever wants to make it back home or see her people freed from oppression, she will have to play her role as princess perfectly. While sci-fi, this one more has the vibe of a fantasy.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship’s leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship’s sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.

Where It Rains in Color by Denise Crittendon

The planet Swazembi is a utopia of color and beauty, the most beautiful of all its citizens being the Rare Indigo. Lileala was just named Rare Indigo, but her strict yet pampered life gets upended when her beautiful skin is struck by a mysterious sickness, leaving it covered in scars and scabs. Meanwhile, voices start to whisper in Lileala's mind, bringing to the surface a past long forgotten involving her entire society.

Eacaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus duology) by Nicky Drayden

Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one. It’s also sapphic!

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah*

In a near future America, inmates on death row or with life sentences in private prisons can choose to participate in death matches for entertainment. If they survive long enough - a rare case indeed - they regain their freedom. Among these prisoners are Loretta Thurwar and Hamara "Hurricane Staxxx" Stacker, partners behind the scenes and close to the deadline of a possible release - if only they can survive for long enough. As the game continues to be stacked against them and protests mount outside, two women fight for love, freedom, and their own humanity. Chain-Gang All-Stars is bleak and unflinching as well as genuinely hopeful in its portrayal of a dark but all to real possible future.

Parable of the Sower (Earthseed duology) by Octavia E. Butler*

In a bleak future, Lauren Olamina lives with her family in a gated community, one of few still safe places in a time of chaos. When her community falls, Lauren is forced on the run. As she makes her way toward possible safety, she picks up a following of other refugees, and sows the seeds of a new ideology which may one day be the saviour of mankind. Very bleak and scarily realistic, Parable of the Sower will make you both fear for mankind and regain your hope for humanity.

Binti (Binti trilogy) by Nnedi Okorafor

Young adult novella. Binti is the first of the Himba people to be accepted into the prestigious Oomza University, the finest place of higher learning in all the galaxy. But as she embarks on her interstellar journey, the unthinkable happens: her ship is attacked by the terrifying Meduse, an alien race at war with Oomza University.

War Girls (War Girls duology) by Tochi Onyebuchi

In an enviromentally fraught future, the Nigerian civil war has flared back up, utilizing cybernetics and mechs to enhance its soldiers. Two sisters, by bond if not by blood, are separated and end up on differing sides of the struggle. Brutal and dark, with themes of dehumanization of soldiers through cybernetics that turn them into weapons, and the effect and trauma this has on them.

The Space Between Worlds (The Space Between Worlds duology) by Micaiah Johnson

Multiverse travel is finally possible, but there’s a catch: No one can visit a world where their counterpart is still alive. Enter Cara, whose parallel selves happen to be exceptionally good at dying. As such she has a very special job in traveling to these worlds, hoping to keep her position long enough to gain citizenship in the walled-off Wiley City, away from the wastes where she grew up. But her job is dangerous, especially when she gets on the tracks of a secret that threatens the entire multiverse. Really cool worldbuilding and characters, also featuring a sapphic lead!

The Fifth Season (The Broken Eart trilogy) by N.K. Jemisin*

In a world regularly torn apart by natural disasters, a big one finally strikes and society as we know it falls, leaving people floundering to survive in a post apocalyptic world, its secrets and past to be slowly revealed. We get to follow a mother as she races through this world to find and save her missing daughter. While mostly fantasy in genre, this series does have some sci-fi flavor, and is genuinely some of the best books I've ever read, please read them.

The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings*

In an alternate version of our present, the witch hunt never ended. Women are constantly watched and expected to marry young so their husbands can keep an eye on them. When she was fourteen, Josephine's mother disappeared, leveling suspicions at both mother and daughter of possible witchcraft. Now, nearly a decade and a half later, Jo, in trying to finally accept her missing mother as dead, decides to follow up on a set of seemingly nonsensical instructions left in her will. Features a bisexual lead!

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden

South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots finding sentience, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson*

Young adult. Young artist June Costa lives in Palmares Tres, a beautiful, matriarchal city relying heavily on tradition, one of which is the Summer King. The most recent Summer King is Enki, a bold boy and fellow artist. With him at her side, June seeks to finally find fame and recognition through her art, breaking through the generational divide of her home. But growing close to Enki is dangerous, because he, like all Summer Kings, is destined to die.

The Blood Trials (The Blood Gifted duology) by N.E. Davenport

After Ikenna's grandfather is assasinated, she is convinced that only a member of the Praetorian guard, elite soldiers, could’ve killed him. Seeking to uncover his killer, Ikenna enrolls in a dangerous trial to join the Praetorians which only a quarter of applicants survive. For Ikenna, the stakes are even higher, as she's hiding forbidden blood magic which could cost her her life. Mix of fantasy and sci-fi. While I didn’t super vibe with this one, I suspect fans of action packed romantasy will enjoy it.

Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany

1960s classic. Rydra Wong is a space captain, linguist and poet who is set on learning to understand Babel-17, a language which is humanity's only clue at the enemy in an interstaller war. But Babel-17 is more than just a language, and studying it may change Rydra forever.

Pet (Pet duology) by Akwaeke Emezi

Young adult novella. Jam lives in a utopian future that has been freed of monsters and the systems which created and upheld them. But then she meets Pet, a dangerous creature claiming to be hunting a monster still among them, prepared to stop at nothing to find them. While I personally found the word-building in Pet lacking, it deftly handles dark subjects of what makes a human a monster.

Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool

Lion's Blood by Steven Barnes

Alternate history in which Africans colonized South America while vikings colonized the North. The vikings sell abducted Celts and Franks as slaves to the South, one of which is eleven-years-old Irish boy Aidan O'Dere, who was just bought by a Southern plantation owner.

The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow

Young adult dystopia. Ellie lives in a future where humanity is under the control of the alien Ilori. All art is forbidden, but Ellie keeps a secret library; when one of her books disappears, she fears discovery and execution. M0Rr1S, born in a lab and raised to be emotionless, finds her library, and though he should deliver her for execution, he finds himself obsessed with human music. Together the two embark on a roadtrip which may save humanity.

Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

Lelah lives in future Botswana, but despite money and fame she finds herself in an unhappy marriage, her body controlled via microchip by her husband. After burying the body of an accidental hit and run, Lelah's life gets worse when the ghost of her victim returns to enact bloody vengeance.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith

Young adult. Fen de la Guerre, living in a quarantined Gulf Coast left devestated by storms and sickness, is forced on the run with a newborn after her tribe is attacked. Hoping to get the child to safety, Fen seeks to get to the other side of the wall, she teams up with a scientist from the outside the quarantine zone.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl

A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.

The Splinter in the Sky by Kemi Ashing-Giwa

Space opera. Enitan just wants to live a quiet life in the aftermath of a failed war of conquest, but when her lover is killed and her sister kidnapped, she's forced to leave her plans behind to save her sister.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The City We Became (Great Cities duology) by N.K. Jemisin, The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull, The A.I. Who Loved Me by Alyssa Cole

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after-witch · 7 months

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Alone in the Dark [Gojo x Reader]

Title: Alone in the Dark [Gojo x Reader]

Synopsis: You’re training alone and Gojo has some… ideas for how to improve on your training.

Word Count: 6000ish

notes: noncon blowjob, noncon cunnilingus (done on reader), degradation/humiliation, some misogyny, mentions of reader childbearing, Gojo being a nasty creep

There was no place in the world of sorcerers for someone like you. You were too kind, too sweet--too soft.

That’s what everyone (or almost everyone) told you, almost for as long as you can remember. Yes, you can remember being a child and hearing adults tut-tut at the way you served others before yourself; at the way you made everyone stop so that a group of ducklings could cross the road; at the way you fretted over your brother when he came home black and blue and scratched-red from fighting curses.

It was bad, they said, for you to focus so much on caring for others and not enough on developing the strong skills to do what is necessary. Even when what is necessary might not be what is just or kind or thoughtful.

If you were to lament about these frustrations to the average non-sorcerer, you imagine they might widen their eyes, put their hand to their heart, or maybe even rest a hand on your shoulder. You poor thing! They might say. How cruel.

Was it cruel? You weren’t sure. You didn’t have anything else to compare it with--this was how most generations-long sorcerer families raised their children. You had to excel, you had to be strong, there was no room for weakness.

Kindness, it seems, was a weakness.

But… maybe your sweet personality wasn’t a complete weakness. Because your family didn’t throw you out, as some families did with the weaker leaks in their formidable chains. Instead, they pivoted.

If you weren’t going to be a stony-hearted sorcerer who could take down curses with their eyes closed (no pun intended, they would say, if they had a sense of humor) you would serve the family in another way.

You must still be strong, yes, but you could keep your tendency to dote and devote yourself to others if you were to take on another role: a wife. More than that--a mother. Marry a strong sorcerer, have lots of children, continue the line until your body could no longer stand having children.

And so you grew up learning duties of a different kind. How to manage a household--from the servants you would be expected to order around to keeping track of linens and pantries; how to sew, because while servants would no doubt do any heavy lifting, you could at least be expected to fix your husband’s garments or embroider a family crest on them; how to dote in the right way, acquiescing to your husband while doing your best to maintain the honor and reputation of your old and new families. How to raise children--the right way, so they hopefully don’t end up like you, needing to be delicately placed into a niche.

All this, while strengthening your jujutsu, while practicing harnessing your cursed energy, while knowing that you were not what your family wanted but you weren’t entirely useless, and you had to make the best of that.

Now that you’re an adult of marriageable age, it’s only a matter of time before they find a suitable husband for you. He must be from one of the great families, of course. You were too important to marry off to some low-level sorcerer without a stellar reputation. Not only that, but marrying someone from a prominent family (a strong family) would increase the chances that your children would be strong.

Strong children--strong sorcerers. More sorcerers--more soldiers in the ongoing battle against curses.

And if you wanted to do your duty, then you needed to be strong enough to perform it. No sorcerer wanted a weak little thing for a wife, did they? Of course not.

That’s what brought you here, alone, isolated and tired but so damn determined to improve yourself. It was your idea to come here, which seemed to please your parents. Your cursed energy has been running a little too wild lately, seeping out of you, escaping in little trickles.

It’s your own fault. Admitting this also seemed to please your parents, though it made a low pit form in your stomach, and you didn’t dare divulge into why it was your fault that cursed energy was streaking out of you like a stubborn dripping faucet.

You have too much self-doubt. You’re too worried about letting people down. You’re not confident enough, strong enough, and if you aren’t strong enough then you aren’t good enough regardless of how well you might perform on the wifely front in front of the increasingly judgemental matchmaker your parents brought in to monitor your progress.

But, no, you couldn’t say any of this to your parents. It’s not that they wouldn’t understand. It’s that they wouldn’t care. Self-doubt? No room for that here. Get rid of it. No confidence? How could you lack confidence, given your heritage? Change. No no, to be more precise, they would say: shut up, deal with it, then change.

The only person you did explain any of this to was Satoru Gojo, a friend (or colleague? Or friend-colleague? Or colleague-friend? You were never entirely sure where you stood with him) who would at least listen without completely dismissing you. Not that he did much more than cluck at you condescendingly and offer to marry you--in jest--to get your folks off your back.

You’d laughed and swatted him in the shoulder (which he didn’t mind you doing, leading you to think friend-first-then-colleague is the more appropriate moniker) and asked him for advice.

Which is what has led you here to train, alone and hard. But training was meant to be hard, so you couldn’t complain. And training alone would give you the focus you needed to actually improve.

And you would improve. You had to--not just for your family but for yourself, and your future. The wife of a sorcerer (you tried not to think too far beyond that, to what your parents had been grooming you for: to become a matriarch in the continuing line of your family’s clan) still had to be strong enough not to let cursed energy seep from her so easily.

With the right training, you were going to get better.

Right?

Right.

This is what you needed: time alone.

Because although you plan to be here for much longer, you can already tell that you’re sewing up those weaknesses within you, preventing cursed energy from sneaking out like it had been doing so readily for the past few months.

Confidence was key, after all. Your family had never been wrong on that front. You just needed to get away from the stresses of life to regain that confidence.

You sigh through your nose. The air down here is stale, but it’s not surprising. It’s not like there was anyone down here but you and the darkness and--

“Hey!”

You and the darkness and… Gojo Satoru.

“How are your leaks?!” His voice rings out cheerfully in the empty space, almost echoing.

For a moment, you fracture, and you can feel something trickle out of you. But you hold your breath and regain your senses, forcing yourself to regrip the focus you’d been maintaining for hours now.

Breathe in.

It’s just Gojo.

Breathe out.

Coming to check on you. Which means he cares, in his own way, which is more than you can say for a lot of people. But you wish he’d told you that he intended on coming. It’s a bit jarring, and a whisper of embarrassment begins to build in your chest. He was, as he didn’t mind saying (it could not rightfully be called bragging)-- “the best.”

You hear his footsteps before you see him in the dim lighting. His slow, aimless walk might have even seemed a bit creepy, if you weren’t already used to it. Or if he hadn’t called out beforehand.

He grins when he comes into view, hands in the pockets of his trousers. He’s wearing his sunglasses today, his hair down and loose. He gives a short wave, and you bite back a sigh. You don’t want to stand up--you’re still training--so you merely straighten your back a little and wave back.

“Ah, Gojo. Have I really been down here that long?” You wonder if anyone in your family has bothered to wonder where you were or took the time to track you down.

“Ah, Satoru,” he says, idly. “Oh, it’s only been a few hours.”

Just like that, there’s a sting in your chest. A few hours? Why would he check on you so early? Did he think you were that weak? Were you that weak? No--you shake the thought away, willing yourself to maintain focus, maintain the layer that keeps your cursed energy from releasing.

No, he was just… concerned about you. This would be the first time you’ve done something like this, after all. And he was always telling you that he’d be happy to give you advice, and he didn’t have the same sarcastic twang in his voice reserved for people he didn’t care for.

“So…” Gojo crouches down, getting close to your eye level. “You think you’re doing well?”

You let a smile show. A shy little smile, the kind you gave when you were feeling genuinely proud. Those smiles were few and far between when it came to your family, but you didn’t mind them in front of people like Gojo.

“Mm-hmm. I think coming here is helping me regain a sense of…” Your eyebrows furrow as he stands up and begins walking around you in slow, lazy circles. “Purpose?” Your head follows him, but he doesn’t stop or acknowledge what he’s doing. “Or um, confidence.”

He stops only when he’s right in front of you, but instead of crouching he merely leans down and gets right up in your face, a smile with a hint of teeth showing. The proximity brings heat to your face, and you lean back. He follows your motion, blue eyes behind his glasses peering at you in an almost uncharacteristically serious manner.

After a few moments, he speaks--

“I’d like to conduct a test.”

You fidget in your seated position.

“A test?”

Your heart beats a little faster--one, two, three. But you’re not worried. It’s more like you can feel the first creepy-crawlies of self doubt making their way back up your spine. Why does Gojo want to test you? He’s smarter and stronger and there’s a reason he’s consulted so much on teaching others, so… so…

You swallow that “so” while you wait for him to answer.

He taps his chin in a dramatic way, and it makes you feel better. At least, until he starts talking and seemingly confirms those creepy-crawlies. Not intentionally, though--he wouldn’t do that.

“Yes, a test! A truly great jujutsu sorcerer must be able to maintain control in all situations, no?” He waves his hands around at the surrounding space, the emptiness except for you and him. “Not in isolation. You won’t be fighting curses in isolation, will you? You won’t be fighting curse users in isolation, will you?” He asks these last two questions slowly, kindly. It makes you feel younger and more stupid, and you make a note to talk to him later about that, since he wouldn’t knowingly hurt your feelings.

“I…” You lick your lips. You brought a case of water, but you haven’t yet opened it, and your mouth is dry. Too dry. But that’s not important. What’s important is that Gojo has presented you with a very realistic, all-too-true conundrum.

You shake your head too slowly for your own liking. “No, I… I guess I won’t be.”

“You guess?” He asks, voice taking on an almost sing-song tone at the end that plucks at one of your fraying nerves.

Your heart pounds just a little harder, you feel a trickle of sweat on your forehead that you don’t wipe away. You force your breathing to even, your muscles to relax.

“I won’t be,” you reaffirm, removing all traces of doubt in your face. “I know I won’t be.”

He already started the test, you think, he just didn’t tell you. You might be mad but you’re not, not really. It’s just like Gojo to pluck out your weaknesses so he can help you better them, isn’t it? That’s what he’s here for, what he’s always been here for. To help you improve. To help you.

And you? You can do this. You were born and raised, literally, to do this. To be the best sorcerer you could be, and if you need someone like Gojo to help you, who were you to reject him? Nobody.

And so, when Gojo hums happily and plops himself down in front of you, crossing his legs to mimic your own position, you take a breath and remind yourself how lucky you are to have someone like him ready to help instead of quietly watching you fail, waiting for your downfall and wondering if it would help boost their own family’s status to knock you down a peg.

Gojo wouldn’t do that, not to you.

You take another breath, and Gojo stares at you, blinks--once, twice.

“Ready?”

You smile a little, sigh a little, and nod.

“Let’s do this.”

It takes your brain a few moments to process what happens, because it’s like there is a disconnect between your brain and your body and your soul and you don’t know how to tether them altogether again.

Gojo kisses you.

Not a chaste peck, either, but warm and wet, his tongue sliding over your lips; a slimy feeling you’ve never experienced before.

You jerk back before you know you do it, your eyes wide, knuckles pressed to your mouth.

“What--G-Gojo--”

Gojo doesn’t move from his spot on the floor. He doesn’t even seem bothered by your reaction or anything at all.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, eyeing you through his glasses. He looks above you, around you. “You’re leaking again.”

Your chest seizes. He’s right--when he kissed you, what control you’ve been confidently rebuilding was completely lost.

“I… I don’t understand how this is a test,” you get out. The words are slow and you feel stupid for saying them.

“Oh!” Gojo grins, then. “Sorry. Guess I should have explained, huh? I bet you never had training like this. Ah…” He leans forward, leaning his elbow on his knee and resting his chin lazily on his hand. “You have to be able to control your cursed energy in any situation, right?”

He waits for you to nod, so you do.

“And curses or curse users don’t always play fair. They may do something you don’t expect.”

“They won’t kiss me,” you say, but as soon as you say it, Gojo’s expression makes you question yourself. “Will… they?”

Gojo sighs, and moves to stand up.

“I guess I was wrong about you.”

Your chest hurts.

“You aren’t ready for this type of training.” He’s almost talking to himself now, getting ready to stand. “Maybe in a few years. Or, ah, maybe your family would rather you get married and your husband can decide if he wants you to reach your full potential. Maybe they won’t care, if you have enough kids…”

You try to clamp down on a stream of energy steadily making its way out of you. It’s like soured milk, bitterness, self-doubt, all clawing their way up your spine and out of you.

“Wait--” You reach for him and grip his sleeve. “I-I am ready, it’s just, I wasn’t expecting… that. I’m sorry. Please train me.” If Gojo won’t train you, won’t help you, then no one will.

Gojo tilts his head at you, considering. Then he slowly sits back down.

“Ooo-ookay. But you have to let me do my job, okay? I know what I’m doing.” He pokes you above your chest, on a clavicle showing above your shirt. The touch makes you jump. Almost makes you forget the lingering warmth on your lips… almost.

“Control your energy,” Gojo says casually. “No matter what, okay?”

You nod. And you wonder if he’ll kiss you again, but no, he’ll do something else. Try to attack you without warning or bring up something strange or maybe even try to dig under your skin with some sort of verbal spitfire.

He doesn’t do any of that.

Instead, he grips the bottom of your shirt and begins peeling it upwards with such quickness and strength that your arms go flying up with the fabric.

A noise escapes you, something like an undignified squawk, but you’re too unprepared and Gojo pulls the shirt up and over your head before you can protest or even try to stop him.

You do, however, regain your reaction time when your shirt is tossed to the side and quickly cross your arms over your bare chest. You didn’t even wear a bra, wanting to keep yourself to as few layers as possible, although it was more uncomfortable to go without because of your larger breasts.

Your cheeks burn terribly hot and you don’t know what you want to say. You just know

“S-Stop, this is, that is--this isn’t…”

This isn’t training, is it? A kiss, okay, okay, that’s something Gojo might do to tease you. Even if he went too far. But your clothes? No, no, no--

Gojo doesn’t stop smiling. You want him to stop smiling, to apologize, and to leave. But you don’t get what you want.

“This isn’t what?” He asks. There’s a stickiness to his voice that is like a filmy layer growing in your gut.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. Instead, he reaches out and grabs your wrists, pulling them down so you can’t keep them crossed over your chest. You gasp but he keeps them held down while he leers down at your bared breasts.

He’s faster than you, and his hands are underneath your breasts, pushing them up and jiggling them before you can blink.

“These are pretty bouncy, huh?” He murmurs, to himself or maybe you, you’re not sure which would make you feel worse. Your face burns hot and your feeble attempts at batting his hands away get you nowhere. “But you’re always hiding them…” He continues to bounce your ample breasts up and down.

You can’t take it. Your skin feels like it’s on fire and you’re being touched in a way you’ve never been touched, and it’s Gojo, he shouldn’t be, he couldn’t be, doing this.

“St-stop,” you spit out, finally getting the presence of mind to jerk your body away. Amidst the embarrassment and shock is a thready bit of indignity. You aren’t some… some floozy, you’re part of a highly respected sorcerer family. He can’t just--

“This--this isn’t training! You’re just being perv--”

He presses a finger to your lips, and you hush stupidly with it. He takes it away and regards you with an expression you’ve seen him use with particularly stubborn would-be sorcerers.

“Aren’t I stronger than you?”

“Yes,” you say, helplessly. “But--”

Your hands go to cover your breast, and he bats them away.

“Don’t I know more than you?”

“Yes, but--”

“Then let me help you,” he says, taking and squeezing your hands with such earnestness that it throws your mind off balance.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” you admit, voice mumbling and stumbling. Your eyes widen and you feel hot tears working their way to the corners of your eyes. He shouldn’t touch you… he shouldn’t!

Gojo merely uses his grip on your hands to clap them together.

“But it’s working, isn’t it? The more distracted you are, the more likely you are to leak energy. And that’s bad, right?”

While he speaks, his fingers release yours, only to slither down to the waistband of your skirt. Your breath hitches.

“Y-Yes,” you mutter.

“What is it?” he asks, fingers latching onto your waistband and tugging it down. You squirm, but he persists.

His question only dimly registers until he yanks down your skirt, pulling it down your seated legs.

“B-Bad?” You should tell him to stop. You should leave. But he’s… Gojo… and you’re just--

“And if you can control yourself, that’s…” He drawls out these words,, placing a finger on your clothed pussy and dragging it down the middle.

“Good,” you squeak, voice tight and tinny.

“Right.” He grins, all praises.

Your legs do kick then, and you try to scoot backwards, away, away, away. But he presses one hand down on your bare thigh, and you’re stuck.

“This isn’t training,” you plead, mouth opening and closing like a fish, shocked and stupid.

He peers down at you from behind his glasses.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Your heart lurches. It aches.

“I d-d-do,” you spit out, jaw trembling as much as your body. “But…”

He gives your thigh a good squeeze.

“Th-th-then just let me do this for you, okay?”

The growing knot in your stomach twists and pulls terribly.

“How is this for me?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Instead he grips your inner thighs and pulls your legs apart. You’re aware, suddenly, of how physically strong he is--stronger than you, certainly, enough that what feeble attempts at struggling you’re still giving do nothing at all.

“I’m helping you,” he says, pulling out the word so that it’s almost a whine. “You help people all the time. I just want to return the favor. Now try to focus, okay?” As he speaks, he finally pulls at the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down your legs that have begun to feel like jelly.

“Wow.” He pulls his glasses down his nose and stares directly at your naked sex. “You have a really pretty pussy. I bet it tastes just as nice, huh?”

If your cheeks got any hotter, they might be on fire. Sweat beads at the back of your neck, your arms, your forehead.

“D-Don’t,” you say, wishing you had the guts to shut your legs and leave. But you can’t, or you won’t, you’re not sure which.

“Shhh,” he says, kneeling until he’s sprawled on the floor in between your legs. You couldn’t close them now if you had the strength. “Try to focus. That’s why I’m helping you train, right?”

The teasing glint in his tone only makes you feel worse, but it’s nothing compared to the first puff of his breath you feel against your sex.

You make a sound almost like a squeak and Gojo lets out another puff of air, on purpose this time, murmuring something happily when you keep making those noises.

“St--” You don’t get to finish the word before his mouth is on you, not bothering with any tentative licks but sloppily eating you out.

It’s an entirely foreign sensation, wet and warm, uncomfortable and strange. The fact that he keeps making positively lascivious noises only makes you feel more incapable of ignoring the reality. You shake your head and dig your nails into your palm, trying to process what’s happening as an uncomfortable heat builds between your legs.

Before long, he pulls away, and there’s a sick sensation in your stomach when you see that his lips are glossy with... with… you.

“You’re leaking down here,” he says, with the utmost of seriousness. “But I guess you can’t clamp down on that kind of leak, huh?”

You press your lips together and refuse to acknowledge him with a response.

He shrugs and goes back down between your legs, lapping at your clit with short licks of his tongue. The direct stimulation is different--tighter and more intense, and the sounds you can’t help but make are wholly undignified, short gasps and high-pitched grunts.

“Has anyone ever done this before?” He asks, pulling himself away by a fraction of an inch.

“Of course not!” Your cheeks burn at the audacity of the question. “I-I don’t, I’m not supposed to do… that before marriage.” Why you can’t seem to explicitly talk about sex to the man who is currently devouring your pussy, you don’t know.

“Ohhhh,” he says. The words are practically spoken into your twitching clit. “That makes sense… well.” He looks up at you, and flashes a smile. “Maybe we’ll get married. Can’t say I haven’t heard that rumor before.”

Before you can utter any sort of response, he leans forward and pushes you onto your back. With his body in between your legs, your legs fold over at the knee awkwardly, almost making it look like you’re displaying yourself for him.

“S-Satoru,” you say, voice hoarse, “I want to leave now.”

He shakes his head and holds up a finger.

“No way! We’re not done with training yet. Look at all that energy just seeping out of you. Tsk-tsk.” He puts the finger on his chin. “But don’t worry. I have another technique that should help… remember to focus!”

You don’t know exactly what he means until you watch warily as he lowers his finger and presses it against your wet entrance.

“No--”

But he doesn’t wait. He pushes his finger inside of you and your breath is taken away at the sudden intrusion. There’s pain and ache and the unusual foreign sensation of something inside you. You can’t help it, you clench around his finger and he coos appreciatively.

“I appreciate it,” he tells you, all honey, “but save that for my cock.”

“S-Satoru!” You whimper the words out, squirming, wiggling your legs in the air like it might actually stop him. You can feel cursed energy seeping out through you, like there’s a hole you can’t quite patch up. You fight between acknowledging what Satoru is doing--pushing his finger in and out now, sliding inside you, it hurts and feels weird but there’s a warmth, too--and keeping your cursed energy inside.

“Don’t worry,” he teases. “Not today. Don’t got the time…”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hating the hot tears that leak out, and stare up at the ceiling. Focus… focus… focus. You do focus, then, on keeping your energy from leaking out. Not because this is training--it’s not, you’re naive, not stupid--but because maybe it’s easier to bear all of this if you keep part of your mind elsewhere.

“That’s it,” he praises. “Keep concentrating… gee, you’re doing great.” The snicker in his voice makes your stomach lurch. You wish he would stop pretending this was training. It only makes it worse.

And then suddenly there’s another sensation of intrusion, and you look down to realize that he’s pushed another finger inside you.

“Hmm,” he muses. “You know, I wonder…”

Your jaw trembles as he pushes his fingers in further and wiggles them around, almost like he’s feeling for something. And then--

You shriek, your body jolts upward, and you sit fully up and instinctively grab his wrists.

“That’s the spot!” He grins, laughing, and pulls his fingers out only to bat your hands away. Then he gently pushes you back down onto the ground. Your thighs are trembling and you can feel wetness trickling out of you, slow and uncomfortable.

“I bet you’ve never been able to reach this far with your little fingers. Don’t worry, I’ll help you…”

You push yourself up on your elbows and shake your head.

“No… you, you don’t have to. You don’t need to, I’m--”

He interrupts your pitiful pleads by pushing his fingers back inside, and your breath hitches at the sensation.

“’Course I do! Gotta teach you everything. What kind of sorcerer would I be if I left you in the dust?” He watches you intently over his glasses, the blue in them agonizingly beautiful, and he finds that spot again.

But this time, he doesn't graze it in curiosity. Instead, he presses down and strokes it and it’s like an immediate shock to the system. A burst of almost painful pleasure, causing your legs to aimlessly kick and shudder without you controlling them and you let out a primal groan, not words exactly, just mumbled pleas. You feel something squirt out of you and hear Gojo’s surprised sound, a little pleased exclamation.

He doesn’t stop, though, but keeps going. The white-hot pleasure is like being touched in all the right places in all the wrong ways, and you can’t stop your thighs from quaking.

“Too much too much too much!” You get the words out, just barely, drool dribbling down your lips.

Mercifully, he pulls his finger out. You can see him look down at them through his tears, and he tsks lightly.

“You know, for such an innocent girl, you're soaking. Or is that why you’re so wet? Because I’m the first one to touch you?” He leans in and presses an almost chaste kiss to your lips. You can taste something on them, salty and almost earthy. Yourself.

“I hope I’m the last, too.”

When he pulls away, you eventually sit back up and, arms shaking, reach over for your underwear.

At this, Gojo tilts his head.

“What are you doing?”

It’s your turn to tilt your head, though you can’t tell if you’re mirroring him intentionally or not.

“My… clothes,” you say, slowly. “I’m putting them on.” Because this is over, right? He’s had his fun and you can leave and never talk to him again.

“We’re not done yet, silly.” He grabs your underwear and shoves them into his pocket, then stands up and stretches his arms casually.

You stare up at him, naked, warm wetness between your legs. Feeling dazed and spent and tired.

You’re about to ask what he means when he simply unbuttons his pants and pulls them down, boxers and all, without a word or a warning.

He grins, like he’s just shown you a present. What he’s shown you is his erect cock, glistening at the end with a wetness of its own. You’ve never actually seen a man naked before, a few photos in a pilfered naughty magazine that you snuck out of a friend’s house notwithstanding. It’s fleshy and slick, thick.

“Now,” Gojo says, looking down at you in more ways than one. “Here’s the real test!”

His name comes out of your mouth pitifully, but he just pushes a finger to your lips and smiles.

“C’mon. You’re sweet, aren’t you? Always helping everyone else. I helped you just now, so now you return the favor. Easy.”

Your face screws up in a grimace. You can feel hot tears still pricking at your eyes, threatening to fall again. Then you look up at his face and down at his cock and then back at his face.

You’re not entirely ignorant of what he wants you to do--you just know that seeing a picture or reading about it in a spicy novel is far different than experiencing it for real. Especially like this. Especially with him.

“I don’t… I’ve never…”

He pats the top of your head gently, but strangely, keeps his palm on the back of your head afterward.

“I know, I know. But I’ll teach you. Besides,” and there’s that awful grin in this tone again, “it’s not enough to control your energy while things are being done to you. You have to control it while you do things to others, right?”

He shifts forward and his cock is right in front of your face. You can’t really look away. You can smell him, even, a musky smell. Not wholly unpleasant but like the taste on your lips from his own, there’s an earthiness to it. A primal sense.

You want to run. You should. Others would in this situation, wouldn’t they? But he’ll just bring you back, if you do. Or worse, let you go and… who knows what he might say to others? At least if you do what he wants, he can’t do anything worse than this.

You hope.

“What do I do?” You whisper.

He releases his grip on your head only to clap his hands twice.

“There’s my girl! You’ve got the right spirit.” He beams down at you and you hate how the blue of his eye peeks through the top of his glasses and the way his smile should make you feel good, but only makes you squirm.

He shifts forward again until his cock brushes up against your cheek. You gasp and lean backward, only to find that his hand is back against your head, keeping you in please.

“Open your mouth,” he says, almost sweetly.

And you don’t want that thing on your face anymore so you do, opening just a little.

“Wider. Like you’re at the dentist. Watch your teeth.” He sounds more serious. Like he’s instructing you--and he is, isn’t he? you think, sickly.

You open wide, feeling stupid, feeling sick, as he guides his cock into your mouth. He lets out a sigh of appreciation as he pushes inside, and you instinctively make a muffled noise of protest--this isn’t right, this isn’t right. In front of you are his naked hips, the base of his cock, a smattering of pubic hair.

The taste of him is vaguely salty and warm, but it’s the sensation of having something--having him--filling your mouth that makes you back your head up, wanting him out. But the hand on the back of your head keeps you in place, pushing. His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag. Tears stream down your cheeks from reflex and the realization of what’s happening.

He snickers, but pulls back a little.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be more gentle.”

He begins to move, then. Slowly at first. You don’t do anything but keep your mouth open, keep your tongue pressed flat to avoid touching his cock, though you soon find this to be an impossible task. You can’t help but gag a little when he pushes, but at least he seems to be trying to avoid doing it on purpose.

It’s a small mercy, you think, though what counts for “mercy” right now is highly debatable.

Your cheeks are hot like fire as you begin to taste more of him, feel more of him. He’s inside you, all flesh and warmth, an extension of himself that he’s using to--to what? Tease you? Use you? Something else?

He begins to move faster, and you gag, trying to mumble his name in plea around his cock. He groans and the hand on your head grips harder.

“Oh, fuck, don’t do that. I won’t be able to control myself.”

You want to sob but you’re afraid of moving your mouth so much. The tears fall down your face, regardless.

“Good girl, you’re being so good… you were born for this, weren’t you?”

When you look up, Satoru is looking down at you the way you think someone might look at a nice collectible figurine. A precious item to be touched and dusted at whim.

“Born to be a good sorcerer’s wife,” he continues, and it’s almost as if he’s talking more to himself than to you. “That’s what we’re doing now, aren’t we? Practicing that? There’s all sorts of training for sorcerers, you know…” His thrusts begin to get less controlled, quicker. “Practicing controlling energy… controlling techniques… all those little nuances of life as a sorcerer. Like this.” The thrusts are so quick that you start making helpless noises around them, little grunts. “You’d be a good wife, m-maybe--” His breath hitches, the first time you’ve heard him lose control. “Even a good mother, after a while.”

You make a sound of protest--it’s the last thing you want to be thinking of right now--but he shushes you and starts thrusting sloppily, clearly lost in his thoughts. “You’ve even got nice big tits, don’t you? Perfect for breastfeeding or, fuck, holding onto while we fuck…” He sighs, languid. “I’ll try that next time, okay? Gotta be patient.”

His words seep into you like cursed energy, confusing (it is true, you were raised to be a wife, raised to have children,--but this?) and hurtful and twisting in your stomach.

Suddenly he pulls himself out of your mouth. Your lips make a wet plop and you open them to start to ask what he’s doing, but you don’t have the time to ask, because there’s suddenly something warm and thick all over your face. Something lands on your lashes and you blink, feeling a salty sting on your eye.

Your pussy clenches and you don’t know why.

As you sit there, shocked, dazed, you hear a click.

Oh.

He took a picture.

You wipe at your eye, cringing at the feeling of something wet and globby on your hands, and look at him with wide, teary eyes.

“Just for safekeeping,” he says, tucking the phone into his pocket. “Wouldn’t want this to get out, would you? Would definitely put a damper on your marriage prospects…”

There’s no reason you shouldn’t sob, now, without Gojo in your mouth. So you do. Your face crumples and everything that just happened hits you all at once, until you’re weeping pitifully in front of him.

You’re dimly aware of him leaning down before he pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his cum off your face like he’s wiping at a bit of stubborn dirt. He wipes at your tears with his fingers, at least.

“Don’t be so glum! You did great!”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and straightens up.

“I’ll be sure to tell your father about your improvements in cursed energy control. He’ll be happy, don’t you think?”

You don’t answer, because you don’t have words anymore.

He leaves, his footsteps receding loud. You don’t watch him go. Instead you sit there in the same position, naked, wet, feeling sticky and used.

And like that, you’re alone again.

You don’t try to dampen down the energy that leaks from you this time.

#gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #afterwitch writes

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thatonecode · 2 months

Text

do you think dick grayson feels the weight of the world sometimes do you think he lays awake at night in his tiny shitty apartment in bludhaven and thinks about how he's the one who taught bruce wayne- who taught BATMAN how to really feel and love again and how every single robin after him is his responsibility because of that ? do you think he sits at family dinners with the whole extended batfamily and thinks "i did this" because he was the first ? do you think he sees some new teen hero and is terrified for them because he was them back when he wasn't around to be looked up to ? because he was the first ? do you ever think about how he wasn't only the first robin but the first kid hero ? and every fight he won he proved that other kids could too and do you think he regrets that ?? knowing how many terrified children there are fighting wars that shouldn't be theirs to fight ???? do you think he is also so incredibly proud of all of them in a way only he can because he Came First ??????

i think he does

do you think it drives a wedge between him and the entire world ? do you think jason sees him on some rooftop in gotham and thinks about sitting down next to him but doesn't because of all the years of distance and arguments and despite everything that's ROBIN sitting there ? the original ? and how jason never would have been robin if dick hadn't proved that robin was more than a child soldier in an adults war ?? with all that between them what could jason say compared to everyone's golden boy, the perfect child, the original boy wonder ???? do you think tim ever gets over his hero worship ? or is there a split second everytime where he goes Holy shit ! it's Nightwing !! Nightwing is talking to me !!!! even after everything that dicks put him through and all the empty space between them that tim never imagined would be there ? do you think that's just the effect that dick has on people where no matter what you can't help but look at him in awe, like he's superhuman ?

do you ever think about how he was an ordinary kid ? he could have been anyone . do you think about if he was anyone else he likely would not have made it and someone else would have had to fight all the battle he did, to survive, to be taken seriously, to figure out how to breathe and live and be the light instead of being smothered in batman's shadow ??? do you think about how he was the first kid hero but he was still just a kid growing up and fighting with his dad, and moving away and making new friends and falling in love and he was still the first kid hero and he was never just a kid . he was the leader of the first kids hero team . he's never just been a kid . do you think he regrets that it was him ??? do you think when batman died he regretted everything, every single thing? i don't think he did . do you think that when he was batman, and raising batman's son the way bruce raised him, the way alfred raised bruce (always raising someone elses son) he saw himself in all the anger and the reckless way damian would throw himself into fights, in a desperate way to prove himself the only way he CAN ?? do you think dick remembers being 10 and sad and angry and needing someone else to be hurt so that it wasn't just him ??? do you think that dick regrets making damian robin because of how it forces him to look at how he himself has grown and how much robin has changed from what he made it ??? i don't think he does . do you think he ever apologies to tim ? i don't think he knows how, i think he finds himself staring at their texts and wondering what words would have fixed his hurt when bruce fired him and kicked him out . and i think he decides time and space is what did it, so time and space will do it again . i think it's the wrong decision . i think they both regret it later . do you ever think about how bruce might have tried but at the end of the day everyone went to dick because he was easier to talk to ?

do you think about how he made the hard decisions like batman did, and he lost his parents like batman did, and he grew up in a massive empty house with an emotionally distant father who tried his hardest but still felt oceans away, like batman did, and he decided to be the light where batman decided to be the shadows ? he decided he wouldn't let it break him like batman did, but batman chose to become something to fear and nightwing has always been more hopeful, brighter, flashier . do you think about how in the middle of the night young people unaccustomed to the manor might end up in dicks room instead of bruce's ? because there's always a piece of bruce that stays batman, even when he takes the cowl off ? do you think about how dick understands because he was a young person unaccustomed to the manor, standing outside bruce's bedroom absolutely terrified to go in ? and how he was the first, and all he and bruce had were eachother ?

do you think about how hard they've worked since then to make sure that no one else will be alone the way they were ? and how dick is able to help with all the younger kids when bruce can't, or won't because to a child those are the same things ?? do you think about how dick must have read the same parenting books that bruce had in his office after bruce died when he was stuck and drowning and grieving and there was a child down the hall he didn't know how to protect ???? do you think dick and bruce were closer after he came back ?? do you think that just for a moment there was an echo of their past partnership in the way they were able to read eachother ?? do you think about how dick has had a hand in raising most of the other bat kids ??? because he was the first . and he was proof it was possible to live with batman and survive it ??

because i think about it . All The Time .

#sorry folks having another Normal One #dick grayson really is my blorbo ever hes so everything to me #anyways #batfam things #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #dc nightwing #dc dick grayson #dc robin #jason todd #tim drake #damian al ghul #damian wayne #bruce wayne #cipher go to sleep

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 25 days

Note

prompt 8 and 14 (shy readers first time) and moms bsf wanda

You Were Red and You Liked Me Because I Was Blue

Mom's bsf!Wanda Maximoff x shy!innocent!Romanoff!fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, W calls herself Mommy, use of pet names, W fingers R

A/N: I worked on this all day while I didn't feel good and I have a killer headache at the moment so if I missed any warning I'm sorry. I can't think anymore.

The air was cold, without snow falling to distract you it felt unbearable to be waiting for your ride back home for break. Unfortunately you mom was off on a work trip until 3 days before Christmas so instead her best friend, Wanda would be picking you up.

Normally Wanda would have also been preoccupied this time of year, but since her and Vision finalized their divorce and custody of the boys, Vision would be getting them Christmas break first.

You couldn't imagine what that must be like for Wanda. Suddenly after 10 years of family tradition she was alone again and Wanda being alone was never a good thing. You'd known Wanda for a long time. After Natasha helped take down the red room she'd taken you, the youngest widow on the ship under her wing. The day you gained Natasha as a mom, you also gained an aunt Yelena. You had always heard stories of the famous Black Widow that got away and you'd seen Yelena training with others the greatest child assassin the world has ever known. Though you know her now as Auntie Lena who eats Mac and cheese straight out of the pot.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you see the familiar red subaru ascent. Wanda pulled up with a smile as you opened up the trunk to set your luggage in before quickly getting in the passenger seat with a shiver. Wanda pulled you into her arms, your body instantly heating from her contact.

“Hi sweetheart. How was the flight in?” She asked near your ear, making your heart skip a beat as you pulled back, trying to calm your body down.

“It was fine. Better than having you drive five hours to come grab me.” You told her as you put on your seat belt.

“I wouldn't have minded a 5 hour road trip with you sweet girl.” You bit the inside of your cheek at her words, choosing to stare out the window as she pulled away from the airport.

With Wanda's help you brought your luggage into the house and headed to your room to finally lie down and stretch out. The flight was only an hour and a half and the car ride back was about a half hour. You had barley acknowledged Wanda when she said about her starting on dinner instead choosing to go shower and clean yourself up.

You'd been told that even though you're an adult your mom wanted Wanda there with you. She said it was so you could keep an eye on the other. For Wanda it was so you'd stay out of trouble and for you it was to keep Wanda company. Natasha knew what it was like for Wanda to be alone.

What you and Natasha didn't know though was Wanda had fawned over you since she met you. When Natasha first introduced you and Yelena you always hid away. A little mouse making little to no noise as you moved. Even your thoughts were quiet to Wanda. It was something she found solace in around you. She knew what had happened to you and the other widows. Though you were next step of perfecting what Drekovy wanted out of the widows, total control they had perfected and for you, the only survivor of your age group, an enhanced super soldier serum. It gave you all the same enhancements as Steve and Bucky, but you stayed small, unassuming so no one ever saw you coming.

“Y/N! Dinner's ready sweet girl!” Wanda called up as you looked over yourself in the mirror, the scars lining your arms, shoulders, chest. They were everywhere.

You took the stairs two at a time, hair still damp, but Wanda's cooking smelt too good to keep her waiting. She looked up from moving things from the counter to the dining table. Natasha always used to have these ‘family meals’ where her parents, Yelena, Wanda, Vision, and the boys would come over. They stopped happening when Wanda and Vision decided to get the divorce. A smile was on Wanda's face,

“I made your favorite. Help me move it over to the table.” You happily helped out so the two of you could eat dinner together.

As Wanda was cleaning up and insisting that you go relax on the couch and get a movie ready you watched her from the couch, forgoing a movie and putting on The Office instead. You needed the background noise because to you your thoughts felt so loud that Wanda must be able to hear you if you didn't have something distracting her.

As she finished up and sat next to you she gave no indication of hearing your thoughts which she often did to those around her. Her arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against her as if you were two magnets. You bit the corner of your lips trying to watch the show.

You knew Wanda was experienced obviously, she has twins. You on the other hand haven't even gotten the opportunity to kiss a girl or a boy or anyone because from the day you met Wanda all you ever wanted was her. You'd never tell her that though.

She was with Vision when you met her nearly 13 years ago. With everything that happened after that with Thanos and then defeating him without the loss of half the population you could just live life normally for the first time.

Wanda's hand found your thigh, rubbing gently as she watched the show, one the two of you have watched multiple times over the years. You enjoyed sitcoms like she did along with being introduced to reality TV which is just a guilty pleasure really.

“W-Wands…” your voice was barely a whisper and Wanda pretended not to hear you. Not even when you started squirming under her touch as her hand grew closer to your hot center. Her hand squeezed you as you let out a little whimper. “Wands…” you tried again, trying to be louder, but you couldn't. Once again your plea goes unacknowledged as her pinky brushes against your clit, your hands fly down to her wrist. She finally looks at you. You don't dare look at her.

“What's wrong sweet girl?” She asks so innocently as if she has no idea what she's doing.

“W-Wands…I…you…” you fumble with your words. Her other hand reaches your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“What about us sweet girl?” You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. She pulls you onto her lap, her hands resting on your hips. “Just watch the show sweet girl. Let Mommy play.” You felt like fireworks went off in your stomach. Sure you'd heard the boys call Wanda Mommy and yeah you'd heard her call herself Mommy over the years, but never in the tone she just used and never directed at you.

You felt like everything on you was burning except for Wanda's hands that were always cold and clad in rings. You did as told keeping your eyes on the screen until you felt her hand push past your waistband. Your hands once again grabbing her wrist, not because you didn't want her to, you really wanted her too. You were nervous.

“W-Wands…I've never…” Wanda moved forward, tilting her head to look at you.

“Not ever at college?” She questioned. You shook your head.

“N-not even a kiss…” you admitted. Wanda's hand leaving your shorts and moving to your face.

“These precious lips haven't kissed anyone else?” You shook your head, “So I'll be your first?” She asked pulling you closer. All you could manage as your heart pounded was a soft ‘mhmm’ before her lips touched yours.

As her lips meet yours, it's a gentle yet electrifying sensation, sending waves of warmth cascading through you. Wanda's touch is tender, guiding you through this unfamiliar territory with ease and patience. With each fleeting moment, you feel yourself melting into her embrace, the world around you fading into the background.

When Wanda pulls back, there's a brief moment of hesitation, as if time itself is holding its breath. You find yourself lost in her gaze, a mixture of emotions swirling within you – anticipation, vulnerability, and a newfound courage. Slowly, a soft smile tugs at the corners of Wanda's lips, her eyes sparkling with tenderness.

With a gentle brush of her fingers against your cheek, Wanda whispers words of reassurance, her voice a soothing melody in the stillness of the room. And as you lean into her touch, a sense of peace settles within you.

The night carried on without Wanda trying to slip past your shorts instead she kept stealing kisses late into the night before deciding it was time for bed. It was when you moved you could feel just how wet you'd before and you freeze, your thighs smacking tightly together. Wanda stopped, a tug on your hand.

“What's wrong sweet girl?” She looked back at you, confusion etched on her face.

“It…its..icky…” you squirmed and Wanda smirked, taking two steps towards you.

“Don't worry my sweet girl,” she tilted your head up, “Mommy is going to take good care of you.” Her breath against your lip, her voice sweet and thick with her accent, the one you heard all those years ago. Your legs want to turn to jelly.

Wanda wasn't expecting you to stay quiet once her fingers slipped past your wet folds, but you did. Little breathy moans, small whimpers, tiny pleas fell past your lips as your face burned and your eyes screwed shut.

“Don't close your eyes Detka. Look at me.” You could only obey with her voice sounding the way it did. You looked at her, she smiled at you and only picked up her pace.

You squirmed and felt like you were going to burst as you whimpered and tried to get away, but she held you there. You tried closing your legs, but she held them open.

“Open your legs Detka. I wanna see you.” Her nails dug into your thigh.

“F-feels weird…” you squeaked out.

“You're gonna cum for Mommy it'll make you feel better. Go on. Let it happen.” As if your body was waiting on her word, that coil inside of you snapped. Your back arched as your eyes rolled back. “That's a good girl…Mommy’s good girl.” Her fingers slowed down before leaving you. Your eyes closed but soon enough Wanda was helping you sit up.

“Water sweet girl. Take a few sips.” You did as told, knowing Wanda always knew best. When she felt you had enough she tapped your cheek and you let go.

She helped you clean yourself up, the cool towel feeling nice against your hot skin and then into pajamas which only consisted of an old band t-shirt of Wanda's and a pair of your panties. As she got the two of you settled into your bed, holding you against her chest. Her fingers moved through your hair as your eyes began to flutter she spoke,

“We're going to have a lot of fun until your mom comes home.” You smiled against her skin. You almost hoped she wouldn't be home for Christmas if it meant more time playing like this with Wanda.

#ley speaks #ley writes #ley requests #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #mommy wanda #shy!reader #innocent!reader #fem!reader

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hritika13-tamboli · 28 days

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Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 2...

Series :

Day by day @hansolmates

Summary : a series of drabbles about two best friends raising a child together

Aim for the heart @writemywaytoyourheart

Summary : Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Bedeviled @writemywaytoyourheart

Summary : Money. Fame. Power. Love. Health. Courage. Strength. Humans will trade their souls for anything, unaware of how their selfish desires will fade away as they do; growing feeble and pathetic, until there's nothing left but the ghost of their youth, cowering in a corner until old age disposes of it. Convincing yourself to go to the Underworld? Easy... Walking through to get something that you've waited many years for, accompanied by a demon that will stop at nothing to make sure your soul belongs to him? Maybe not so much. Making deals with the devil is a tricky business; one you might not have realized could end in something much more painful than death itself if you make a single mistake.

Animal - 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 @cutaepatootie

Summary : “I don’t want to go without telling something.” The girl frown looking at the old man “What do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” “I don’t want to die without telling someone about her,” he says, his voice softening when he says ‘her’. “I don’t want to disappear without the world knowing about her and what she did for me.” “About her?” the girl frowns. Maybe his daughter? His sister? The man turns his head and faces the girl, a soft, distant smile plastered on his lips. The gesture is nostalgic, sad, almost loving. “Y/N,” he murmurs, the name rolling off his lips softly, just as softly as the waves of the sea roll over the sand. “Her name was Y/N.”

Into the woods @junqkook

Summary : getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

One-shot :

The habits of the broken heart @softykooky

Summary : jungkook and you are soulmates. so says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. however, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak. alternatively, “You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.”

Something in the heir @hisunshiine

Summary : The king of your empire will be leaving soon to head off to fight against Soiros, a foreign enemy, and his seven knights of the order of Bangtania will lead the way. One of the seven, Jeon Jungkook, with his dark eyes and easy smile, is someone you long for. Children believe he has slain dragons, and adults think he’s killed over one thousand Soirian soldiers. Everyone thinks he is a heartbreaker, making his way through every unwed wench in the land...but all he wants is you.

Miracle of the season @cybrsan

Summary : Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

Amortentia @jungkxook

Summary : jungkook loves everything strawberry but the simple pleasure is always kept hidden, stowed away as if some hideous secret to protect the rumours that had built up around him — until a love potion outs him.

Black magic @hansolmates

Summary : a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

(Un)crushed @hansolmates

Summary : you’ve liked jungkook for the longest time, but you believe it’s time to cut the cord—literally

What's wrong? @oddinary4bts

Summary : Reader overhears Jungkook talk to his friends and mention how she’s always clinging on to him and doesn’t let him breathe sometimes and that she’s annoying because she’s too loud and energetic. When he comes back home she acts the complete opposite and tries to avoid him without letting him know what’s going on, until he realises that he actually prefers her clingy and loud🥺

High demand @bunnyhugs77

Summary : modern day Romeo and Juliet

Coin toss @yoondoze

Summary : you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

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jangmi-latte · 10 months

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from the fae novels i've read through thorough researching of fae age... the most i can decipher from malleus and lilia's mental/human equivalent age is that, divide their current age to 10 human years (fae age/10). so, in this case 1 fae year = 10 human years.

/SPOILERS BEYOND THIS MARK

lilia was 300 years old during the war so that makes him 30 years old, fairly young and mature enough to literally be a soldier.

malleus is currently 178 years old, divided by 10 human years, he's 17.8 technically rounding off to 18 years old. which is just accurate enough for both his mindset and body + his currently year in nrc. lilia did say he's still young and growing, and that he is a still a child. his draconic species specificied that at 200 they are a hatchling, a teenager at 500, and a full-fledged adult at 1000 (lilia said it himself).

mal should've been born when lilia's 302/303 years old since lilia said that mal should've hatched by 2-3 years. theoretically speaking, present malleus should've been around late 30s to early 40s by now (397 years old). but alas, he was delayed.

now, present lilia says he's nearing 700 years old. he's nearing 70 years old so that's around 68-69 years for humans. considering his speech and mindset while still having the slow ability to adapt to the present world, it's just....right.

now if mal is 178 and lilia's 700, look at mal being 18 and lilia is 70 in human ages. silver is 17, sebek is 16. just clicks right in my humble opinion.

this is all just hypothetical analysis since the fae worldbuilding concepting in different forms of media is complex. however, this is the closest i could decipher to how we see them in a mortal light. now i shall rest my brain i hate math.

TO SUMMARIZE

fae age ÷ 10 because 1 fae year = 10 human years

lilia is 70 years old (700/10), 30 during the war (300/10)

malleus is currently 18 years old. (178/10)

#twisted wonderland #twst #diasomnia #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #twst silver #silver twisted wonderland

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marionette-j2x · 8 months

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"The Princess and The Soldier"

An unexpected AU I thought of 'cause it's been living rent free in my head-

"A princess, hidden from the world because of her unusual powers, and a child soldier, from a land across the sea. Made an unusual encounter and made an unexpected friendship. A strong bond was made as they relate to each other's woes from the life they are living. A princess trapped within her kingdom walls, because of her family's worries that her powers might get exploited/exposed. And a child soldier under the shadow of his ironfisted uncle, who was the captain of the battalion that was sent to the princess' country for a peace meeting in order to forge an alliance. But something wasn't right within the walls of the kingdom. Something sinister, something malicious, something bad. It was now up to Hunter and Willow to try and grasp what it is that is trying to shatter the peaceful ambience of the kingdom."

A.K.A. "Hunter and Willow goes on a mystery hunt (without the adults' knowledge) while also trying to get to know each other more and trying to get out of trouble as much as they can. But, that's easier said than done, right?"

Yeah I've been watching too much mystery/haunting documentaries for my liking. And also, I blame this comment on reddit under my comic about Willow in a traditional hanbok. Spare me-

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icaruien · 7 months

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I'LL LOOK AFTER YOU.

nanami didn't make a habit of being someone's saviour but if it's you, he's willing. he's so, so willing.

CONTENT WARNING! bottom!nanami kento x top!male reader. age gap (left up to interpretation), daddy kink (kento receiving), praise kink (reader receiving). was supposed to be some kinky stuff, but ended up being soft (per yuan typical writing style), which means there's actually minimal sex? dude, i don't know either. it's just massive comfort energy, bro, i'm so tired.

dedicated to the one and only @lofi-er. i hope you're feeling better <3

nanami knew better than to paint himself as a saviour. perhaps once, when he had been younger, blinded by the craving to be good and to do good, he would have considered himself one. but he couldn't save everyone, could only minimise damage. he knew this, learned this all the hard way.

perhaps that was why he was so desperately protective of you— still so young, still so close to your youth, and already loaded with the sort of sorrow that turned you into a loaded gun. all it would take was just one wrong move, one wrong look, and you would be set off; violently, brutally, cruelly.

you were still a child.

except, you weren't, really. not anymore. you had grown up, robbed of your childhood, and now you had left those years when you could still reclaim it. you were an adult, in all the ways that mattered— but all he could see was another one of their youths, stripped from their golden years.

and he wasn't a fixer. his hands were built to kill and to protect, but he was never made to fix. maybe, in another life, he could learn to become one, but not in this one. in this lifetime, he was a soldier, no matter how he much he tried to hide it. he wasn't a teacher, wasn't a healer. he was a man with callouses from his weapons, with blood in the place of soft skin and tender love.

but you never needed such gentleness. you were just like him, in a way— taught violence before you were ever taught love, taught to kill before you were ever taught to cradle, taught to be a soldier before you were ever taught to be a man. a yearning maw parted open in his chest at the sight of you, the realisation that you had become every single thing that he failed to protect you from a sharp knife to the gut each time.

perhaps that was the reason why he allowed you to do such things to him— indulgence of carnal pleasure; acts of debauchery that left him feeling drunken and you wholly intoxicated.

each touch of his lips against your skin was an apology, each whisper of your name was a seeking for repentance. you should not have had to endure that, and he had failed you. he could not save you in time—but perhaps, he could heal the wounds time had left upon your skin, etched upon your soul.

your nails dug into his skin, and a loud hiss escaped from between his clenched teeth. his hand reached out blindly, threading through the strands of your hair. it was slightly matted, wet from the shower you had just had when he arrived, and he pulled your head close to the crook of his shoulder. he buried your face against his skin as if it would protect you, as if he could make things right.

"that's right," he whispered, breath fanning against the shell of your ear. your resounding whimper tasted sweet in his mouth. "you're doing so good."

you let out a wet sound; a choked laugh, a strangled sob. "i thought you don't give out compliments," you said, your voice strained.

"i don't," he replied. "i make observations."

"was that an observation, too?" your voice was quiet, holding such a boyish naïvety. he wanted to protect you from the world. "me being good?"

"yes."

"oh."

"you're always good for me," he continued. "my perfect boy."

"oh."

he couldn't have possibly imagined the way you swelled where you were buried inside of him, pulsing against his walls. he shifted, fixed the angle, nudged his own prostate with the tip of your cock. there was barely enough time for you to stifle the sound that you made. it was fine. he liked hearing you, anyway.

it was quiet for a long moment beyond the sound of skin against skin, lube squelching with each of your slow thrusts. it wasn't anything at all like the animalistic sex that you would indulge yourself in with him; when you would pin him against the mattress, his wrists crossed over the small of his back, as you made him say who was making him feel so good, as you demanded him to tell you how his baby was doing so well in making daddy feel so good, oh fuck. god, baby, you're perfect. you're daddy's good boy.

no, these moments were different; quieter, more contemplative. he had more time to breathe, to think, and you had more time to hold him close, to use his warmth as an anchor. it was especially common for these moments to occur after a long mission, when you were held taut with whatever burdens you carried home alongside your victory.

he didn't know what happened to you this time, and he didn't care to ask. the higher ups no doubt knew, but he didn't want to hear it from them. you had been robbed of too much. if you were willing to share it with him, then he would gladly devour it greedily. but it must come from your hand, you must be the one feeding him.

so, he simply indulged himself in this togetherness with you. his back was on the mattress, his legs wrapped around your waist. his hands were clinging to you by your shoulders, toying with the end strands of his hair. missionary— intimacy, perhaps, or simply trust. he wanted to look at you, and you wanted to look at him.

your thrusts were slow, but they weren't at all lazy. your hands were all over his face; cupping his jaw, carding back his bangs, cradling him close. this wasn't rare either, and he simply leaned into each of your touch. he encouraged you, murmured sweet nothings into the hazy air hanging between you.

there was no rush. you needed to be grounded, and he was all too willing to allow himself to immerse into his moment. because when he got like this, when he would take care of you, he didn't need to be nanami kento—burdened by his past and failures; burdened by his future and hopes. he simply had to be your daddy, the person who held you close to him, the person who praised you for every little good thing you had done, the person who you looked up to and who cared for you in return.

and it was easy. so, so easy to love you.

your hand moved to brush over his under-eye, and he knew already what you were going to say before you say it. "you've got bags under your eyes," you murmured. "have i been worrying you?"

"a little bit," he admitted.

a pause. "i'm sorry."

"don't be." he reached up, tilted your head low, pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. "i don't mind worrying over you."

"it's not good though." you nudged against his chin, like an affectionate cat. a smile creased his lips. "daddy's worried about everything. he shouldn't have to worry about his baby."

"if daddy's worried about everything, then he should be especially worried about his baby," he corrected. his hand moved to brush the hair out of your eyes. "alright? i'm serious."

"i am, too. you're worried enough about everything. you needn't worry about me, too."

so stubborn.

"i like worrying about you," he corrected himself. once again, he pressed his lips against your skin—your jaw, this time. he could still see your sceptical expression, and he huffed. "i'm serious."

you shook your head, lazily fucking into him the whole while. "daddy's so weird," you said, scrunching his nose. "he's lucky his baby likes him so much."

"lucky me, indeed," kento agreed, bumping his forehead lightly against yours. you giggled, soft and quiet, and kento felt something warm blaze in his chest. "does my baby need anything from me?"

"no." this time, when you pressed your face against his throat, it was all your doing. "just hold me? wanna feel you while i make daddy feel good."

"alright." kento obliged, arms moving to wrap around your torso. he felt you nuzzle against him, and he allowed himself a little laugh. he pat you over the back of your head, earning himself a soft moan in response.

in between lazy thrusts and your lips latching against his skin, soft bites peppered in between fragile kisses, he heard you whisper, "i'm still your good boy, right? even when i do something wrong. i'll just have to make you forgive me, then i'll always go back to being your good boy, right?"

kento shook his head, held you tighter, pressed a kiss to the space behind your ear. this sort of question had stopped being alarming a long while ago. this was guilt speaking, an age-old, well-worn, intimately-familiar kind of remorse that even kento was well aware of himself. it was a kind of sorrow they couldn't entirely part themselves with, part themselves from. it was ingrained into their soul, next to the bone and the marrow and the heart and the lungs.

"that's right, baby," he whispered. "you'll always be my good boy as long as you're willing to be."

you whimpered, a soft trembling sound. kento wanted to protect you from everything wrong in this world. "i want to be daddy's good boy forever, then."

"okay," he said simply, because that was okay. because permanence wasn't so terrifying when his baby was the one speaking about it. because impermanence was scarier than the idea of eternity if you were involved in the equation. "then you can be my good boy forever."

your arms spasmed around him, holding him tighter. kento wanted to cry. "you promise?"

"i promise," he whispered.

#honestly idk either hehe (dying)#nanami kento x reader #top male reader #male reader #sub nanami kento #top reader #jjk x reader #( ❅. ) yuan writes.#( ❀. ) nanami kento.

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