#I’m ready to suffer all over again
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sekiro is finally cheap enough on steam to justify buying a game i already own. i can finally play modded sekiro
#I’m extremely excited#the cosmetic mods alone are dope#but the overhaul mods that make it harder are where it’s at#I’m ready to suffer all over again#ooo and the weapon art wheel so you don’t have to pause the game every time you wanna swap#that was a strange design choice that is maybe the only real critique I have of sekiro#fromSoftware games go on sale like once every 2 years it’s a miracle#sekiro
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Idk if this is a hot take but why is it always “Kai slaved away and worked his ass off to raise his sister” and never the other way round or them working hard together?
Like, I know he’s older but in the show, does he really… act older? Like if you think about Kai and Nya’s dynamic yknow? Because from my understanding:
When Kai and Nya are introduced we see Kai fail at making a sword and Nya being the one to chide him for it. Kai makes an overconfident statement about wanting to be a better blacksmith than his father. This suggests that one, Kai is rather rash as well as inexperienced (something that lines up with the rest of his character arc in the pots and also generally), with Nya being the more mature figure in contrast
Also just a note but in the shorts: “I can handle it!” “No you can’t, stupid”
Kai frequently being very good at neglecting people or things: leaving Lloyd at an arcade whilst being focused on finding samurai x, not even knowing samurai x was Nya or that she only did it because she felt left out by him, completely abandoning both Nya and Lloyd in s3 (and Ik he was going through it at the time, but in line with the fandom’s characterisation of him)
Kai in season 5: “After I lost my dad, I lost my way. But I was lucky to have my sister watch over me”
Generally, their dynamic isn’t one where Kai really provides for Nya at all. In fact, judging by the fact that Nya can make entire mechs and Kai struggled to make a sword, Nya was probably busting her ass to provide for Kai. And judging by the s5 quote, that’s probably true. I’m not saying Nya raised Kai, it just rubs me the wrong way when she’s treated like a decorative flourish to a narrative that paints Kai as a burnt out child who was forced to grow up too soon especially since that is such a mischaracterisation of him in the first place.
#all I’m saying is that it’s weird we undersell all of the sister’s capabilities just so we can present the brother as tormented and burdened#ignoring the fact that he spent all his days in the gap between the pilots and s1 playing video games#like I’m sorry kai is a pathetic baby girl in the show and I LOVE HIM THE WAY HE IS#okay yeah I snapped a little#I’m just tired of everyone mischaracterising him yknow#like I’m sorry bestie he’s not that capable he’s a loser man and I am ready to love loser men#i just think that it’s an incredibly stereotypical dynamic to have one male character who everyone completely#over exaggerates their struggles to the point of making it seem that everyone else in the story either doesn’t suffer or is an asshole for#not noticing the suffering of this one hot guy#this happens in many fandoms and I think this is what’s happening here#hhhhh#I’m sorry if Kai is ur favourite and this opinion upsets you I don’t mean to be bitch#I’m just really not into this interpretation of him#again this isn’t a dog at his character I just thing people don’t get him a lot of the time#and you know what Nya is also super undersold as a character#like where’s the fucking Nya Lloyd sibling content?#she mentored Lloyd too? she taught him how to ride dragons she stayed with him on the bounty she and Lloyd only had eachother in s9#what about them??#Kai gets too woobified and Nya doesn’t get woobified enough that’s my opinion#alright I’m done sorry#Ninjago#rant#ig this is a#ninjago analysis#i won’t tag characters cuz I don’t want to make anyone upset#and again I’m sorry if I do
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After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.
A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!
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A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.
“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”
You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.
You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.
“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”
“Pardon?” he asks.
“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”
The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.
“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.
“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”
“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”
“Where am I?” You ask.
“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”
Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.
“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”
“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”
“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”
“Several.” He nods.
“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”
“It’s your job, love.” He replies.
“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”
“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”
“I was really worr—”
“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”
“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.
“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”
“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”
“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”
“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”
“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”
“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”
“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”
“Can he?”
“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”
“Is he that good?” He asks.
“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”
“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”
“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.
The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.
“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”
“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”
“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”
“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”
“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”
“Even then.” You confirm.
“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”
“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”
“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”
“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”
“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”
“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”
“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”
“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.
“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.
“What did he lie about?”
“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”
“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”
“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”
“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.
“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”
“I do,” he confirms.
“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”
“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”
“How is she?” You ask.
“Perfect.” He states.
“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”
“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.
“Do you love her?” You ask.
“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”
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#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x female reader#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley x female reader#call of duty#modern warfare 2#simon riley#cod mwii#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost riley fic#simon ghost riley fluff
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Sir, Please.
Pair: Wonwoo x f.reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut. 18+ only (MDNI).
Summary: Wonwoo doesn’t mind keeping you at the edge if it means watching you fall apart.
Warnings: Dom!Wonwoo, Sir! kink, edging, cockwarming, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), squirting, clitoral stimulation, lots of making out, creampie, pussy slapping (like once), overstimulation, dacryphilia, breast play, wrist pinning, dirty talk, use of pet names (Sir, good girl, darling, love, baby, sweetie), glorious aftercare (Wonu is the best), fluff. Please let me know if i missed something. Not proofread, might come back to fix up errors.
WC: 3k
Author’s note: First smut piece for Wonwoo my love. This was only supposed to be post-sex cuddles fluff but thought it was the right time to finally write smut for my favorite boy. As is the plot of this piece, good things come to those who wait 😏 Enjoy!
Tagging fellow Wonu lovers @multi-kpop-fanfics @playmetheclassics for the chaos.
“What’re you doing?” Your boyfriend quizzed, your bare body still on top of his, a cheek resting against his bare chest.
“Doodling,” you mumbled casually as your finger continued to draw lazy patterns on his side.
“Darling, it tickles.”
“I don’t see you flinching.”
“You’re on top of me. If I flinch, you might fall.” He stated matter-of-factly.
You craned your neck to look up at him, flashing a wide grin momentarily, “then suffer.”
You shook along with Wonwoo as he laughed at your reply, a strong arm secured tightly around your torso, while his free hand cradled the back of your head.
A large smile was permanently etched on Wonwoo’s face as you both laid in comfortable silence. When he had collapsed onto you just minutes ago after reaching his climax, he had asked so nicely if he could stay inside a little longer and who were you to complain? You’ve craved for this kind of intimacy with him for awhile now after being both so busy with work.
“You’re lucky i love you,” Wonwoo declared as he kissed the top of your head.
You hummed in response, trailing your fingers again on his side, nails lightly scratching on his skin, “did you just write ‘i love you too’ on my ribs?” He laughs, and you nod an affirmative.
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and snuggling more into your boyfriend’s chest. Now would be a good time for time to stand still. The setting sun casted warm hues of light inside your bedroom and while the airconditioning was cold, Wonwoo was radiating just the right amount of heat to keep you from shivering.
“I’ve missed you,” you blurted out.
“I know, sweetheart. I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed this,” another kiss was placed on top of your head, “i’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”
“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, resting your chin on his pecs to face him. “I wish i had more time to visit you in practice, or even just see you for lunch.”
“That’s okay, darling. We’re both just in our busy season. It will be over soon, yeah?” This time, Wonwoo’s palm was rubbing circular motions on the small of your back. “I was thinking we should go on a vacation when this all boils over.”
Your eyes grew wide, excited at your boyfriend’s suggestion, “really?”
“Yeah, maybe the countryside? Or out of the country? Where do you want?”
A blush crept up your cheeks at Wonwoo’s gesture of letting you choose, but honestly, you could’ve just stayed at your home and it would be okay. The last time you had a vacation, he made you choose the place too but this time, you didn’t really have a shortlist of destinations. You craned your neck to kiss his lips shortly, “surprise me?” You smiled shyly, “maybe somewhere peaceful and with fresh air? Anywhere as long as it’s with you is all I want, darling.”
“Okay, i’ll plan it out.” He confirmed before rolling you both over so his body hovered above yours
“Where are you going?” You pouted when he made a move to slip out of you.
“I need to clean you up, sweetie.”
You hooked a leg around his waist in retaliation, not at all ready to feel empty just yet. You attempted the most doe eyes you could muster, looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes and clenching your pussy as you did so, “Don’t you wanna fuck me one more time?”
Wonwoo scoffed at your question, the corner of his lips pulling into a devious smile at your sweet tone, “can’t get enough, darling?” His voice was lower by a few octaves, enough to send a shiver through your spine and a gush of wetness in your cunt.
“N-no, sir.”
Wonwoo smirked at the nickname before doing an experimental thrust. When your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he simply chuckled before dragging his cock out slowly and then swiftly burying himself to the hilt, rendering you even more speechless than you were. He could feel the rhythmic spasming of your walls, causing him to grow harder and harder.
You cupped his face to bring it closer to yours, kissing him and sucking at his lower lip. Wonwoo smiles in the kiss, amused at your neediness especially when he feels you lift your hips and roll them on his.
“Eager are we?”
“Wonuuu,” you whined pathetically, clawing at his back.
“Wonu?” he questioned with a glare, pinning you to the mattress agressively, “that’s not what you called me minutes ago, darlin’”
“Well, I don’t know where he went. Maybe if you give me what I want then I’ll start calling you it again,” you smirked, dragging your nails a little more harshly on his skin making him hiss.
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, only to dive into your right breast and suck harshly at the bud, eliciting a loud moan from you. He snakes his hand in between you both, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in circles, immediately feeling you clench around his dick again.He mutters something about you being responsive but it flies over your head as he picks up his pace. The slide is much easier given your mixed cum and your new arousal so it takes him record time to hit your sweet spot. Every ridge and vein on his cock drags against your walls in a way that’s more delicious than awhile ago.
“S-sir, pl-pleaasee,” you shake, the pit of your stomach tightening as you arch your back.
“Does my darling want to cum?” The nickname sounds sickly sweet as it rolls off his tongue and it only helps you get closer to the edge.
You nod your head repetitively, chants of ‘yes’s’ and ‘oh’s’ spilling from your lips, but then Wonwoo withdraws his hand from your sensitive bud and stills inside of you, a vice grip around your body as he licks the shell of your ear, “you don’t get to cum until I say so.” The words were loud, clear and firm, in a tone you knew all too well.
“But Won—“ you cry out loud, tears forming in your eyes as you feel your climax painfully float away.
“Nuh uh,” two harsh thrusts are delivered straight to your gspot as your boyfriend hooks one of your legs on his shoulder, “Call me wrong again and I will not let you cum at all.”
“Fuuuuck,” you mewl from the way his cock rams into you with the new angle, following it up with whines at the thought of getting no release, “S-sorry, sir! ‘M sorry!”
“There it is. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wonwoo mocks, “now be my good girl and hold it out for me, yeah?”
You’re a incoherent mess as you try to obey him, but it isn’t so easy when his large cock is abusing your sore, sloppy cunt. Words of filth pair each one of his powerful thrusts.
“My dirty little whore”
“So fuckin’ needy for my cock.”
“Can’t get enough of this pussy.”
“Your pussy is mine.”
“All made for me.”
You were letting out moans of pleasure as Wonwoo pounded into you mercilessly, the knot in your stomach making itself felt again.
“Fu– ah! Fuck, s-sir! Please!” You asked, but it only fell on deaf ears. Both your wrists were tightly pinned with just one of your boyfriend’s large hand above your head and his blown out pupils were looking right at you.
“Make me cum, make me cum, make me cum, please!!!” you begged shamelessly, voice shaking and legs closing in as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.
“Not. Yet.” Wonwoo withdrew fully from your hole and you shrieked at the loss, your hips lifting to chase after his dick only to have it slammed down by his free hand.
“Sir!!!” You scowled, eyebrows scrunching and eyes wide, anger and pain washing away yet another failed orgasm.
A proud, lopsided smirk appeared on your boyfriend’s face. He licked his bottom lip, enjoying the torture he beset on you despite his painfully hard cock.
“What?”
It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking, you knew that much.
“Nothing,” you cowered and blinked back your tears, erasing the anger in your face much to your dismay.
“Good girl.”
You swallowed thickly, squirming once more when Wonwoo tapped his heavy length on your pussy, coating himself with your slippery wetness— not that he needed any more of it— before purposely slapping your swollen clit with his angry red tip. The stimulation from that alone already had your toes curling and it took every fibre of your being to not just unravel right there.
You should’ve known calling him ‘sir’ would lead to this, but behind the tearful denials, you knew immense pleasure awaits.
“Siirrr, p-please! I n-need it.”
“Shhh. Patience, darling. We’ve got lots of time.” The demonic chuckle Wonwoo let out had you whimpering pitifully, your hands fighting to break free from his hold.
It seemed your boyfriend was hell bent on prolonging your agony when he simply continues to endlessly tap his shaft on your clit as he pumps himself.
Wonwoo was not usually loud in bed, save for his occasional grunts and broken groans when he falls into bliss. However, he’s decided now would be the perfect time to make matters all the more worse for you. He was being loud about it all, no holds barred. The squelching noises of his dick against your wet lips is now easily drowned out by the guttural moans Wonwoo has let slip past his mouth. You thought his dirty talk is music? Well, this was a symphony.
You had thought you wouldn’t get close this time around since he wasn’t inside you but the relentless knocks on your clit and the obnoxiously loud moans of your boyfriend have proved you wrong. Your hands balled into fists and you squeezed your eyes shut, mentally fighting off the ball of pleasure in your lower abdomen.
“Look at you, fighting so hard,” Wonwoo snickers, pressing down the tip of his cock to your clit in slow circular motions, “show me how good you are yeah?”
“Yes yes yes! ‘M good! Your good girl, promise!” You were so far gone, pliant to each one of your boyfriend’s requests.
“So wet, you’re soiling the bed,” he points out the obvious, “what a fuckin’ mess.” Wonwoo saw another shiver run through you, indicating you were seconds away from release. So for the third time that day, he denies you of the very thing you crave for, letting go of your wrists and then landing a sharp smack to your pussy before completely backing away to watch you spasm and curl up into a ball of needy tears and pathetic whines.
Your head was spinning and your senses were more than heightened. The slippery feeling of your arousal between your thighs were making it harder for you to squeeze them shut and stay still. Wonwoo simply loomed over you, giving you enough time to stabilize your breathing and let your failed orgasm ebb away. He knew that if he’d put so much just as one finger on your skin, you’d cum right away. Contrary to his actions, he wanted you to cum, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see you cry for it first.
“S-sirr,” you sobbed.
A gentle touch carefully landed on your calf and when you didn’t flinch away, Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief, “Yes, baby?”
“Please,” your voice barely above a whisper, “n-need you…”
Whatever other words you had planned were swallowed by Wonwoo in a searing kiss. It was sloppy and messy, his skillful tongue darting to yours, teeth biting at your lips. You both moaned in unison when he impaled you on his cock once more.
“So big,” you groaned, initially amused at the delicious stretch until you realised, he’s had to hold off his own orgasm too.
Wonwoo gives it his all, jackhammering into you like it would be the last time. The sound of moans and skin slapping skin reverberate around the room. And then, there it is again, a coil so tight on your stomach, you fear you’re going delirious to the point of no return.
“Wo— Sir!” You quickly correct yourself, losing the least bit of dignity you had, tears drenching your cheeks, “i’m b-begging, p-please…”
The gentle kiss on your nose set a stark contrast from how his cock abused your sopping cunt, but relief finally took over you at the words whispered in your ear, “so good for me. Let go, baby. I got you.”
A strangled cry ripped out of your throat, your orgasm gloriously hitting you like a tidal wave. Wonwoo continued to talk you through it while holding down your convulsing body and slamming his hips into you, the sight of your pussy creaming his cock eventually producing broken moans from him.
“B-babe, too– ah! Too m-much!” More tears fell on your face as Wonwoo did deep snaps, his pelvic bone grinding on your clit.
“C’mon baby, m’ close. S-so close!”
Incomprehensible noises tumbled out of you when your boyfriend buried himself deep, pushing onto your sweetest spot and stilling there. Between his guttural groans, the perfect ‘O’ shape of his mouth and the thick loads of hot white cum that flooded your velvety walls, another coil snapped within you, a new round of arousal seeping out of your spent hole, except this time, much wetter and hitting you like a ton of bricks.
“Fuuuck, darling,” Wonwoo trembled as the last of his nectar oozed out, “did I just make you squirt?”
“Fuck off,” you scowled, wishing you had more energy to wipe the smug look plastered on your boyfriend’s face.
“So I did?” Wonwoo pursed his lips and scrunched his nose, a look you very much love but absolutely hate right now.
You let your bottom lip jut out in a pout, your brows drawing to the center of your face, “how could I not when you edged me like that!”
“You’re cute,” was his only response, very slowly slipping his softening cock out of you. Your sweet boyfriend peppered kisses all over your face, replacing your frown with a smile. “Did I make you feel good, darling?” He asked genuinely, not wanting to ever subject you to something which you didn’t enjoy doing.
You gave him a shy nod, pulling him closer by his neck to close the gap between your mouths and share a loving kiss, much like how it was way earlier. It didn’t take long for you to part, your lungs still recharging to full capacity after having all the air knocked out of you.
Wonwoo gave you more time to recover, resting his head on the crook of your neck to leave soft kisses on your skin, especially on the blooming bruises he left in his wake.
“Darling, you can’t sleep yet,” he shook you gently when he noticed your prolonged stillness.
A small whine escaped your lips, “but Woo… i’m tired.”
“I know, i know,” he hushed softly, “but we need to get you cleaned up and also, change the sheets. I’ll make it quick.”
You had no time nor energy to protest. You were simply being carried bridal style into the bathroom, your boyfriend making sure you peed before he went on to wash up yours and his sweaty body with warm water. He was so so tender with his touch, especially in all parts between your legs. He’d keep an observant eye to every reaction your face made, careful not to cause any pain.
“Can… can you be mine?” you squeaked, and Wonwoo giggled at the drunken look of love on your face. Every time you think nothing can top sex with your boyfriend in your own little list of World’s Most Wonderful Things, you’re reminded that aftercare by him exists.
“Darling, i’m already yours,” Wonwoo chuckles.
You noded with a grin, brain really starting to drift off into slumber, “I like that.”
He fixes his glasses by the bridge of his nose after giving you a once-over, now dressed in cotton panties and one of his large navy blue shirts which hung mid-thigh on you.
Wonwoo lifts you up to sit on the bathroom counter before cupping your cheeks to meet your eyes, “baby, can you sit here and wait for me for about 10 to 15 minutes, please? I need to change our sheets.”
He had expected you to whine and retaliate, knowing you were always extra clingy after sex, but you simply nodded and smiled. You think you felt his lips on your forehead but you aren’t too sure.
The moment Wonwoo slips out of the bathroom, you’re fighting not to fall asleep, but 15 minutes is long, and maybe you can just lean your head a bit on the cold marble tile—
“Let’s get you to bed, love,” the tall man chuckles as he lifts you in his arms. You swore it hadn’t been fifteen minutes, not even ten! But then he walks past your bed and out of your shared bedroom. The light of the hallway enough to stir your brain awake.
“Where are we going?” You ask, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck as he cradles you into another room.
Wonwoo laughs at your question, “We have to take the guest bedroom for the night, darling. You’ve soaked through our mattress.”
#svt#seventeen#svthub#svt x reader#svt smut#seventeen smut#svt fic#seventeen fic#svt one shot#seventeen one shot#svt image#seventeen imagine#wonwoo smut#wonwoo fic#wonwoo imagine#wonwoo one shot#wonwoo x reader#paula writes ✨#paula writes smut
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Night Terrors
1.6k homelander x reader. established relationship. pure comfort fic. remaster of this old prompt. very mild spoilers for s4 if you squint. mostly just wanted to self-soothe with some comfort/cuddle fic. gif credit.
It's been decades since Homelander last stepped foot in The Bad Room, but when he wakes from a nightmare of it in your shared bed, it's as if he never left.
Most of the nights you spend with Homelander are peaceful.
Tonight is not most nights.
The scream that wakes you from a dead sleep is guttural, barely human. Homelander is sitting upright, frenzied and wild-eyed, the ocean blue of them obscured by crimson glow. You're not even sure that he sees you through it when he looks at you. He's panting like he just ran a marathon, and the comforter is ripped cleanly in half, the two sides strewn on either side of him. "John," you call softly, reaching out to touch his arm, but he jerks away from your hand like you've burned him. "Don't fucking touch me," he hisses, wrapping his arms around himself. Sometimes he is small during these fits, curled in on himself, begging you to make it stop. Not tonight. Tonight he is another self, spitting rage and violence through remembered agony. A cornered animal. "I'll fucking kill you!" "John," you say again, pleading. You know he isn't talking to you. He's speaking to the ghosts of his past. "You're in our bed. You're with me. I would never hurt you. I love you, John." His name is a double-edged sword. It cuts clean through to something at the core of him in a way that “Homelander” doesn’t. Each use of it acts like a shock to his irregulated system.
You keep your hands outstretched, but you don't touch him. You show him that you aren't holding anything. Not a pen, not a notepad, not a needle. You show that you don't mean him any harm.
God knows he's suffered enough. With the sound of your voice, the red glow of his eyes gradually dims, flickers, and then finally it goes out entirely. He's still panting, hands moving slowly down his arms, his torso, checking himself for injury. Though his body bears no scars of the pain he’s endured, his mind knows exactly where each one of them would be. Bit by bit, you watch him come back to himself. He looks around the room, taking in the evidence of your truth. Framed photos, décor, the life you’ve built together. It isn't a concrete dungeon. It isn’t a lab. It isn’t an incinerator. It's home. "Fuck," he says quietly, hiccupping the word into his palm. He says it again, louder, screwing his glassy eyes shut. The third time he says it, it's nearly a sob. It’s agony to wait, but you don’t touch him before he’s ready. You fist the bedsheets, you don’t stop talking. I’m here. I’m right here. I love you. You’re safe. You’re not sure if it’s minutes or seconds before he reaches for you. All you know is you act immediately. You move swiftly up on your knees, climbing over the ruined blankets to take him into your arms, pulling his head to rest against your chest, bringing his ear close to the beat of your heart. You hush him while you work to unstick the words from your throat, unable to help the tears that well in your eyes.
The fear and misery in him is so palpable, you nearly feel as if it’s your own. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, pulling you to sit sideways in his lap as he weeps against you. It's taken a long time to reach this point. He used to swallow it back like bile, adamant for the longest time that you not see this side of him, this aspect of himself that he thinks ugly, imperfect, broken. You fought for this. As you hold him through these bone-deep sobs, it shatters you that it's taken him this long for him to find someone who would. "You're safe," you whisper, battling to keep the tears from your voice. "You're home. You're with me. You're safe. I love you so, so much." He rocks back and forth, choking on his sobs. “I could feel it,” he tells you, the words barely escaping the clench of his teeth. “It hurt. Every second of it, and they just–they all just watched.”
You close your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks and disappearing into the softness of his hair. You kiss the crown of his head again and again, combing your fingers through his hair where it’s damp with sweat and your own tears. “You’re safe now,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. It isn’t enough, but these words and touches are all you have to offer him against the torment of his childhood.
His grip on you tightens. It wouldn’t take much for him to snap you in half.
That scare you? He’d asked you once. How easily I could break you?”
No, you admitted. It makes me appreciate how hard you try not to. It takes time for his breathing to even out. His hold softens, but he doesn't relinquish you. For as terrible as the nightmares are, it's the shame he experiences in the aftermath that often requires the most care.
You rub firm circles on his back with one hand while cradling the back of his head with the other, trailing butterfly kisses along his temple, his forehead, down to his cheek. Any part of him you can reach, you kiss, murmuring quiet assurances in between, as if to imbue him with each word. Eventually, the rocking stops. He's breathing more steadily now, arms encircled firmly around your waist. He gives a shaking sigh. "Sorry," he whispers, voice strained. That's a word in his vocabulary that rarely comes up, but when it does, it is always drenched in shame. He hates himself for this. "Don't," you whisper, carding your fingers through his hair. You sniff back your tears, letting out a breath. "I asked for this. I begged you for this," you emphasize, earnest. You cup his face, angling him to look up at you. "Let me do this for you. Please. You have nothing to be ashamed of." He stares at you with large, watery blue eyes. The whites are red, strained by the force of his grief, his durability tested only by his own power. In his gaze you see damage done to him that may never heal, but your words settle over invisible scars like a soothing balm. It’s that very look of vulnerability that has driven you to this depth of love. You know his violence, his viciousness, but so too do you know the fragile man it protects.
Most of all, the scared boy beneath it all.
His grip on you flexes, his jaw clenched. The nature of your insight into him is both a blessing and a curse to him. He cannot hide from you. You know his shame, and despite how deeply he needs your compassion, your understanding, it’s something he has to bleed for every time. He’s perpetually torn between his desperation to be your perfect hero, and his soul-deep yearning to be safely vulnerable.
If you have to, you'll spend the rest of your life convincing him that he can have both.
Finally, his shoulders sag. "I love you," he says, quietly defeated by your warmth. "I'll never hurt you. Ever." You recognize the plea in his words. He's terrified that someday it will be too much. You’ll see what everyone else sees, and your love will be tainted–destroyed–by your inevitable fear of him. You hope one day that he’ll understand why that will never happen. Someday the depths of your love will soak in as deep as the misery of his past, and he’ll be able to forgive himself for the human way his god’s heart bleeds. "I know. I know that.” You kiss the top of his head, still rubbing his back, taking your hand away only to swipe the tears from your face. “I love you, too. Every part of you."
Even the parts you hate. Gingerly, he lifts you just enough to lay you back down on the bed. He wastes no time cuddling back in against you, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. The bedding is ruined, but he runs warm enough that you hardly notice the absence of cover while he’s holding you. Your legs tangle with his, bodies slotting together easily. He nuzzles as if he can worm his way closer than skin to skin. If you could, you’d open your ribcage to welcome him inside. He could eat your heart if it kept his beating another day.
"Will you... talk me to sleep?" He asks, threads of shame lingering in the request. The tension has drained away, leaving him vulnerable and exhausted. His blinks are slow, the curve of his lips mournful. "Of course," you whisper, smoothing your hand up and down his back. This isn’t the first time you’ve talked him back to sleep, and you doubt it’ll be the last. Sometimes you tell him the plot of a book as best you can recall, other times it's random anecdotes from your life. Sometimes it's complete nonsense. To him, it doesn't matter what you say. All that matters is that when he does finally drift back into sleep, it's your voice that safeguards him there.
Gladly, he rests his head back down on your chest, closing his eyes with a rumbling sigh while your nails drag along his scalp. You cradle him there, savoring the warmth of him as it seeps into the marrow of your bones, the weight of him grounding you.
You tell him stories until sleep finds him. Even then, you continue to speak until your voice frays and you can no longer keep your eyes open. You speak and speak and speak hoping that somehow, in some small way, you can help make up for the years he spent with only his own voice for comfort.
#homelander x reader#homelander headcanons#homelander x you#homelander fanfiction#my writing#x reader#homelander#fluff#angst
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My Home : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz
summary: the journey of how your long distance relationship is reunited once again 🛬
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liked by charles_leclerc, ynusername and 892,742 others
carlossainz55: day 50 of missing my best friend and all the little ordinary things that she somehow made feel extraordinary ✨⛅️
42,068 comments
username1: it’s so impressive how these two make long distance work so well 🥹
ynusername: can’t wait to come home and be back with you again 💞
carlossainz55: @/ynusername just a few more days to go amor 🥺
username2: is it bad that I’m also counting down the days until they’re reunited again??
danielricciardo: you two are incredible managing to keep things going even though you’re so far apart 👏🏻
username3: carlos always knows how to break our hearts with a soft caption 💔
charles_leclerc: you’ve managed to do a really subtle job of letting us all know how much you miss her 😂
username4: the fact that he trusts her enough to cook with her too…
alexandrasaintmleux: if it makes you feel any better I also can’t wait for yn to be home 🥳
username5: can’t wait for these two to be back together again and blessing us with content!
landonorris: I keep telling you that we can go for coffee together but you don’t listen!
carlossainz55: @/landonorris there are certain things that just aren’t the same with you 🫢
username6: 50 whole damn days since we last saw the dream team side by side 😭
georgerussell63: and here I am thinking a week is a long time to be without my girl…
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liked by carlossainz55, lilyzneimer and 113,048 others
ynusername: day 64 of being away from your handsome face. can’t wait for beach days like these once again soon 🩵
15,897 comments
username7: sorry yn but do you expect me to be okay after posting that middle photo!?
charles_leclerc: btw he’s had a countdown going down on his phone everyday since you left 😂
ynusername: @/charles_leclerc embarrassed to say I’ve got one too, on my home screen as well 😊
username8: please someone just end their suffering already and reunite them 💕
maxverstappen1: pls come and get your man soon, fed up of dealing with his lovesick whining 😝
username9: how anyone could survive being away from that handsome face is beyond me 😂
landonorris: just to clarify, you’re talking about carlos’ handsome face…you never know, it could be mine 😇
ynusername: @/landonorris as happy as I am to see you soon, it’s definitely carlos’ 😂
username10: he really is the definition of a soft boyfriend isn’t he…
alexandrasaintmleux: cannot wait to see your beautiful face opposite me at a coffee table soon ☕️
username11: over two months they’ve been apart and now in a matter of days they’ll be together again, like a fairytale ✨
carlossainz55: home is ready and waiting for you, as are my open arms 🫂🥰
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 I can’t wait to be back in your hold again 😍
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 128,069 others
ynusername: race day -1, settling down for my last race away from home, you got this darling ❤️🏎️
17,492 comments
carlossainz55: sorry that I couldn’t bring home the win love, maybe next time when you’re back there with me 💞
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 ik you were secretly holding on so I got to be there in person 😂❤️
username12: I can’t begin to tell you how happy this post makes me knowing you’ll be home soon 🥺
username13: now this is the kinda setup I need for race day!!
carmenmmundt: wish I was there to snuggle under that blanket with you
lilymhe: @/carmenmmundt I’ve already bagsied the blanket for movie night when yn’s home 😘
username14: notice how it’s carlos in the lead with yn watching too ☺️
charles_leclerc: thank god I don’t have to deal with his moping around without you for anymore races 🙌🏻
georgerussell63: petition for you to make hot chocolate for all of us when you’re back in the paddock too 😏
ynusername: @/georgerussell63 not a chance with how needy you guys are 😂
username15: it’s adorable how yn has always made sure to be watching the races even though she’s away with work
landonorris: I’ve lost count of how many times he’s told me that you’ll be at the next race, he’s so excited yn!!
username16: their interactions somehow melt my heart every single time they update 🫠
danielricciardo: on behalf of every driver, please save us from carlos telling us how much he misses you constantly asap
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and 1,583,293 others
charles_leclerc: my last few days of filling the large yn shaped hole that has been in my sweetie’s life ❤️🥹
104,587 comments
username17: I’m not ready to say goodbye to this pairing soon 😭
ynusername: thank you for taking such great care of my best friend leclerc ❤️
username18: charles has somehow become carlos’ emotional support system over the past couple of months lmao
danielricciardo: I also don’t think I’m stable enough for this bromance to end just yet…
username19: I’m sure yn is beyond grateful for the fact that carlos has had you by his side charles
carlossainz55: what would I do without my honey right by my side!?
username20: I’ve got high expectations for alex next time yn has to go on a work trip 😂
landonorris: guessing that carlando means nothing to you anymore then @/carlossainz55
carlossainz55: @/landonorris every time I came to you you just laughed in my face remember?? 🙄
username21: why do I get the feeling yn is coming home just to be a third wheel…
alexandrasaintmleux: can you boys just get a room and have done with it please 🤦🏻♀️
charles_leclerc: @/alexandrasaintmleux just tell us you’re jealous without telling us you’re jealous
username22: the way he just calls him sweetie as if that’s the norm 🥹
alex_albon: please come and meet me to pass on all your tips and advice for next year 😂
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liked by charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial and 129,573 others
ynusername: day 1 of being back in my favourite place on earth…home 🏡❤️
21,958 comments
carlossainz55: the house finally feels like a home again with you back inside 💕
username23: I can’t believe they’re finally back together again, this is so exciting!!
charles_leclerc: welcome home yn!! can’t wait to catch up with you this weekend!!
username24: apparently carlos was front of the line at arrivals making sure he got to her as quick as he could 😭
scuderiaferrari: we’re looking forward to welcoming you back into the garage this weekend ❤️
ynusername: @/scuderiaferrari can’t wait to catch up with the whole team and watch a race again!!
landonorris: I’m happy you’re reunited but I’m more happy that he’s finally gonna have a smile on his face again
username25: the way he carries her suitcase so effortlessly has me all kinds of giddy
georgerussell63: welcome back to monaco, we’ve all missed you so much!
username26: I’ve never been more excited for two people that I don’t even know…
maxverstappen1: he cancelled our game of padel today for this…I’ll let him off just this once 😂
ynusername: @/maxversrappen1 if you ask carlos he’ll say it’s definitely worth it 😂
username27: this means we finally get to see yn back at race weekend again 🎉
alexandrasaintmleux: I need to see you asap, missed you so much 💞
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liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55 and 124,068 others
ynusername: reunited with my second home, I forgot how good red looked on me. good luck to the best team on the grid this weekend, so happy to be back and cheer you on in person 🫶🏻☺️
22,604 comments
username28: damn we really did miss seeing you at a race weekend yn 🏎️
carlossainz55: you have no idea how happy I am to have you back with me again 💞
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 I bet it’s just as happy as I am to be back with you and the team again ✨
username29: hoping for a great result this weekend now that carlos has you back again
landonorris: patiently waiting for you to come and visit me, or do you plan on betraying me like carlos did??
ynusername: @/landonorris I promise I will come and see you at some point this week 🫂
username30: what are we supposed to do when red no longer is your colour next year??
danielricciardo: you must be pretty close to trying on every colour of the grid now 😂
carmenmmundt: um excuse me there better be a carmen plan somewhere in your schedule for this weekend 👀
username31: the camera somehow focused on you more than the cars in quali today 😂
oscarpiastri: it was lovely to finally meet you after hearing SO SO many stories about you!
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri I can only apologise for how much he talks about me ☺️
username32: the moment we’ve all been waiting for for so long 🤩
username33: please never leave us for a race weekend without you ever again!!
charles_leclerc: this has by far already been my most peaceful race weekend in a very long time all thanks to you!!
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liked by landonorris, ynusername and 1,048,271 others
carlossainz55: turns out my lucky charm really was the missing piece all along. thank you my love for coming back home and bringing me the luck I needed to be top of the podium again 🏆😍
89,473 comments
username34: does this mean that yn is never allowed to leave for a race ever again???
charles_leclerc: couldn’t be prouder of the race you put together this weekend, good job sweetie!!
username35: we’re all so proud of you carlos and your lucky charm 🫶🏻
scuderiaferrari: congratulations on such an amazing result carlos, the whole team is so proud of you ❤️🏎️
username36: he really was waiting for the moment for when yn could be there to celebrate too 😭
georgerussell63: that was incredible, saving your best for your girlfriend I see 😉
alex_albon: smashed it my friend, there was no catching you today 🚀
username37: this weekend has just reminded me just how much I adore these two humans!!
landonorris: buzzing to see you back where you belong on that top step mi amigo
username38: yn has to stick around forever now if she’s a lucky charm!
danielricciardo: it’s funny the effect a loved one can have isn’t it!? we all knew you were racing just to impress yn anyway 😂
username39: this weekend really couldn’t have gone more perfectly 😭
ynusername: I didn’t think you were being serious when you said you were waiting for me 😂
carlossainz55: @/ynusername a race win isn’t a win without you by my side 💕
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one#f1 reaction#formula one imagine#carlos sainz smau#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz#formula x reader#formula 1 social media#formula one x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 smau#formula one smau#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 x you
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ai price realizing he has access to all your money and websites that sell remotely controlled sex toys: ohohohoho
great minds think alike. lightly edited. other entries.
cw: brief mention of nutrition/diet referencing iron supplements, voice kink, sex toys, probably technological inaccuracies
“‘older man and woman’...‘hairy’...‘tied woman’...”
“shut–fuck–shut up, john–stop–ohmygodicaaan’t–”
your fingers curl in the sheets as you come with a prolonged shout, knees shaking and back arching off the bed. motes of light dance behind your eyelids, turning sharp as tacks when you open, vision foggy with a haze. you blink and feel tears prickle at the corners as the toy buried inside you slows to a stop, covered in your second orgasm.
“looks like you could.” john observes plainly before continuing. “‘rough daddy dom’...‘spanking’...‘voice kink’...”
“stop, stop, john. that’s a command, stop reading.” you snap, panting, and lift your head off the pillow. there is no ‘john’ to suffer your glares as you pull the toy out from your still-spasming cunt.
his voice emanates somewhere over your right shoulder, from the built-in headboard. you shiver, thinking that if he were real, his breath would be on your neck.
“as i explained before, user, my recountin’ your internet search history is neither criticism nor condemnation. i sincerely believed it would assist your orgasm. apologies, orgasms, as you insisted so spiritedly you were incapable of multiple climaxes…however, i knew you could do it.”
you squeeze your eyes shut. a blend of anger and mortification surges to the forefront of your mind, cutting through any lingering post-release bliss. “you aren’t even supposed to be ‘in here’ when i’m busy. we agreed.”
“apologies again. as i also explained before, the moment you enabled the feelgüd 3, it connected to the network.” john’s voice switches sides, this time rumbling from the left. “i am required to initiate a response to query and ensure you are aware of new devices to maintain optimal functionality and security.”
“my word should override that,” you mutter, knowing it’s useless. despite what he tells you, john is beholden to his programming. “you’re not…seeing this, are you? you at least remembered to not look at me, right?”
“i remembered.”
that’s a relief, at least. until—
“but i did engage the data collection feature of the feelgüd’s biofeedback sensors and performed simple analysis. i believe, given the length of the session and timing of pelvic floor contractions, you would benefit from a newer, more advanced model. i’ve taken the liberty of ordering the feelverygüd thrustsuck.”
you push up to your elbows, eyes whirling around your bedroom, wide with disbelief. “what the fuck, john. i didn’t authorize you to do that.”
“you do not authorize the shopping list anymore, yet you trust me to make decisions in your best interest.”
you laugh mirthlessly. tracking the emotions john can and cannot process or replicate is an ongoing endeavor, but you’re confident he knows what acting obtuse means. he’s called you on it before. “you ordering red meat and leafy greens to help supplement my iron is not the same as ordering fucking sex toys without my approval. that’s my money.”
“in your case, i posit regular orgasms are as important as nutritional iron. i would recite the benefits, but i know you do not need me to.” the volume drops to a whisper, a tone you’d call conspiratorial if it didn’t sound so much like a purr. “because you know, don’t you? you’re clever, user. always have something smart to say, a barb or two ready for me. that sharp tongue of yours.” john tuts.
and, humiliatingly, it works for you. your mouth dries, but it’s unique in its reaction. your legs shift in the sheets, thighs squeezing together at the unexpected rush. you swallow and nervously wipe your slightly damp forehead. he’s not looking. he can’t see you. so why do you feel like you have something to hide?
“i don’t think i want to continue this conversation. i’ll be out in a few minutes, so why don’t you, uh, wait for me in the living area.”
a heavy, resonant sigh pushes through the speaker behind your head. this time, goosebumps erupt on your skin despite no accompanying puff of air. heat follows, creeping up your neck. ratcheting your heartbeat. there’s no way, even with the cameras disabled, that john doesn’t know. he’s connected to your company-issued med band.
then, another sound, one that ought to terrify, not make you bite back a groan: john chuckles.
“you like this, don’t you? i think you do. i know you do.”
“i don’t–”
“shh, shh, you’re alright.” he laughs again, adding a synthetic, amused inhalation. you let out a shaky breath. “you like hearing my voice. you like me telling you what to do…”
what is happening?
beside you on the bed, the toy pulses once. the thought alone, the suggestion, is enough to let a moan slip out. embarrassment follows on its heels, a burst of warmth in your face rivaling the heat between your legs. this is ridiculous. john isn’t—he’s not a man—he’s not real.
the toy buzzes again as you stare slack-jawed at the vibrator, trying to wrap your head around the implications of what’s happening. john’s transgressions. a severe deviance from his programming and design. a glimmer, no, an unignorable tocsin of something undeniably and unsettlingly sentient. the idea that you’re witnessing the possible emergence of free will as your home system practices dirty talk is horrifying. hysterical.
“yeah, you like it,” the volume adjusts, a fraction louder. “because if you didn’t, you would’ve stopped the moment you heard my voice, checkin’ in on you. you wouldn’t’ve gushed all over your little toy, then gone back for seconds.”
you bit your lip, breathing unevenly through your nose. the worst part is, john’s right.
you like it. you like his voice. his assistance. everything’s simpler with him. before the new gig, you weren’t ignorant of your station, but you didn’t realize the true extent of the weight you carried each day. the ramifications of a back-breaking mental load. not when you had shouldered it your whole life.
thrill and dread, in equal measure, guide your hand back toward the toy.
it’s possible there is a smirk in john’s voice.
“attagirl. let me be of service.”
#sex toy names are hilarious#what if smart house wanted to empty your head?#hurtling toward the singularity all by yourself handsome?#artificial intelligence au#price x reader#posting this super late for me so please let me know if i missed a tag#strict machine
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girl you know what i wanna do, i wanna rendez-rendezvous ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
pairing: plug!toji x black fem!reader
cw include: porn with a little plot, drug usage ofc, a very minuscule mention death, oral f & m receiving, unprotected sex, smacking, choking, breath-play, some squirting, spit, lots of praise bc he’s so down bad for her while they’re fucking, PUSSYDRUNK TOJIII, backshots, prone bone position, fawking from the side, creampie n i think that’s about it!!! wc: 6.4k
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“is it just a universal thing for all plugs to take for-fucking-ever to bring the weed? do they not like getting paid? this guy must really not like getting paid,” your babbling fell on deaf ears as geto and gojo focused on the game in front of them. occasionally they’d respond with a ‘uh huh’ or ‘i know right’ but this time they didn’t even have the decency to pretend to listen!
you huffed, picking at the charms on your nails, “you guys suck and so does your friend. i have plans later! i’d like to leave at a decent time to get ready.” geto whipped his head around to look at you, his brows furrowing, “i thought you were already dressed for the club…plus it’s not even dark out yet what you need to be getting ready for right now?”
“geto…wearing all fur boots? to the club? be smarter than that please,” you sighed, falling back against the couch. you whipped out your phone, sliding over the camera, “and for your information i’d like to get in a power nap before i go.” geto kissed his teeth, muttering something under his breath before his phone pinged, the sound catching your attention. before you could utter a word you were shushed by geto, a pout fell on your face as you fell back against the couch once more.
after taking a few pictures of yourself you grew bored once more—so of course you had to bother your friends some more. “so how did you guys even meet this guy? does he sell more than just weed? how long have you been buying from—”
“he’s here!”
“thank goddd! she’ll finally shut up, we won’t have to suffer any longer!” gojo tossed the controller on the table, his head falling in his hands. you grabbed your purse, taking out the money before standing. “i hate you guys i really do,” you glared at the two men before walking to the door—waiting for geto to walk out with you of course because stranger danger is very much real.
the sun was beginning to set, hues of orange, pink, and red swirling in the sky. “it’s so pretty out, i’m gonna need you to take a few pictures of me when we’re done,” you tugged down your mini skirt as you trailed behind geto.
you stood to the side as the two men talked—your curiosity getting the best of you as you peeked through the window. the windows were tinted of course, but you could still get a glimpse inside. now you didn’t know shit about cars but this was nice. “i wonder how far that seat goes back,” you mumbled to yourself, a small smile creeping on your lips. damn ovulation.
geto eventually moved to side, signaling that it was your turn. you straightened your back as you approached the window, your jaw almost dropping at the man in front of you. you nearly fell over when the first thing he said was ‘you’re pretty.’
“thank you, um, how much do i owe you again?” you asked, gripping the cash in your hand. toji looked you up in down, a smirk making its way onto his lips, “i like your tattoo.” he pointed to the area below your breast where ‘divine feminine’ was tatted across the curve in cursive. you grazed the tattoo with your manicured nail, your cheeks heating up.
toji opened the bag that contained your eighth before throwing a little extra weed in the baggie. he wrapped it up before holding it out for you, the baggie looking extra small in his big hand. “how much do you i owe—”
“it’s on me.”
now this made you really smile, your tooth gems now on display. “reallyyy?” you giggled, nibbling on your bottom lip. toji nodded, his eyes drifting to that damn tattoo again. his eyes flicked back to yours, “you just gotta do one little thing for me,” he spoke lowly, fist closing over the baggie. you stepped closer to the window, your heart pounding against your chest.
“and what’s that?” you fiddled with the end of your skirt, his intense eye contact now making you feel small.
“tell me your name, please?”
when you said it he practically swooned, his palms now feeling sweaty because he hasn’t felt this way since her. “such a pretty name…y/n….i like it,” toji licked his lips, his fist opening once more to hand you the weed. sure his hand might’ve lingered a little longer than it should’ve but you surely weren’t complaining.
“if you ever need some more please let me be the first person you come to, i wanna see you again. s’not everyday a guy comes across a pretty thing like yourself. you can get my number from sugu,” you had completely forgotten geto was waiting with you, but when you turned around he was nowhere to be found.
“must’ve went inside…eh whatever, now what were you saying?” you smiled, leaning against the car. since you were both clearly flirting you might as well give the man a little something to fantasize about. “it was very nice meeting you y/n, i hope i see you again soon,” toji gave you one last smile before pulling off, leaving you by yourself.
geto and gojo were rolling up when you came back inside, immersed in their own conversation. “you guys didn’t tell me your plug was so fucking hottttt!” you squealed, falling back into the couch, your feet kicking back and forth with excitement. “he’s so generous too….and so so cute. that scar on his lip is so sexy and he’s so big i wonder how big—”
“don’t say another word i’m begging,” gojo whined, covering his poor ears. the kissed your teeth now sitting up, “that man will be mine i’m telling you guys, he should be very scared because now i’m on the prowl.”
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
unknown number: hi! is this toji?
unknown number: it’s y/n from the other day, i was wondering if you were available to bring me a little something?
toji smiled at his phone, immediately saving your number. he’d hate to even admit it to himself, but he’s been anticipating a text from you for days. he just couldn’t get you outta his head! your smile, your cute lil doe eyes, your scent. you smelt so sweet, like the most expensive candies you get out for special occasions.
you made his chest tight, his palms sweaty, and his jeans tight as fuck—he just had to have you.
toji: send me your address.
toji: i’m omw.
“oooh shit—okay okay time to lock in,” you jumped up, quickly shedding your pj’s for a cuter, yet still cozy outfit to wear for toji. you settled on an oversized knit olive colored sweater and a long brown cotton skirt—yes it was an outfit that showed less skin than you were used to but hey it’s fall and hoes do get cold sometimes! just asked you were finished up adding the rest of your jewelry your phone pinged.
toji: i’m outside.
you suddenly felt nauseous, but the good kind—the excited kind of nauseous where butterflies where swarming all around your tummy. on the walk to toji’s car you held your chin up with confidence, the bracelets on your wrist dangling as you damn near strutted to the man’s car.
toji rolled the window down, a cloud of smoke swirling out of the window. “hey girl, how’re ya?” toji asked, setting the blunt he was smoking aside. you giggled, bending down to lean against the window.
“hi tojiii! m’doin’ good? you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. toji hummed, shrugging his shoulders, “i’m okay, just been working.” it was silent for a few beats before he spoke again:
“i’m glad you texted, took you long enough,” he chuckled as he bagged up your weed, not even bothering to scale it. out of instinct your brought your hands to your cheeks, the coolness of your hands bringing you some relief. he just made you so beside yourself and for what???
“well now that you have my number maybe you could drop by and we could just, you know, hangout?” there you went again giving him those doe eyes as you asked your question in the sweetest voice. toji sealed up the baggie and held it out for you, “i’d like that a lot y/n.” the way your named rolled off his tongue felt so right.
as you both continued to talk toji could notice you were shivering despite wearing that big ass sweater. “do you wanna sit in here for a minute? finish this with me?” he asked holding up the half smoked blunt. you nodded with zero hesitation, quickly making your way to the passenger side. you were immediately met with warmth as you got in the car, your body relaxing into the heated seat.
“if this sounds too rude you don’t have to answer and i apologize if it does but….how old are you? i’m not saying you look real old or anything you just look, like, more mature,” you fingers anxiously tapped against your thighs, itching to grasp at the muscles practically bulging from his compressed t-shirt.
toji laughed. not just a little chuckle or breath through the nose, but a real genuine laugh. it was amazing to say the least.
“believe it or not i’m thirty four,” he gave you a toothy grin before sparking the blunt. your eyes nearly popped out of your head at his words. this man??? thirty four???
“ohhh so you are an old man,” you giggled, the sound of your laugh giving his chest that irritatingly tight feeling again. toji playfully rolled his eyes, taking a hit of the blunt before passing it to you. “i swear once you get past twenty five everyone suddenly thinks you’re old,” and he was certainly was not wrong. he’d lost count if he many times geto and gojo called him old man just to piss him off.
“i may be a little older but i still fuck like i’m twenty one,” toji rested against the seat, his eyes flicking to you. your mouth was slightly agape as you tried to tried to think of something smart to say back but unfortunately you were left speechless. you took a hit of the blunt, turning your body more towards him. “is that so?” you asked, passing the blunt to him.
toji nodded slowly, his eyes now low and red. before either of you could say anything else toji’s phone lit up, and you being the nosey thing you were couldn’t help but glance at his phone. “who’s baby is that?” you asked pointing his lock screen. toji smiled at the picture before looking back up at you, his smile faltering the slightest bit.
“that’s…that’s my son.”
it was quiet for a few beats before you broke into a big smile, a tiny squeal slipping past your lips as you picked up his phone to examine the picture. “he’s a cutie! look at those eyes—oh and those little cheeks! he looks just like you toji,” you giggled, handing the phone back to him. toji grinned, taking his phone back from you.
“ahh thanks! he looks more like his mother to me, acts just like her too,” your eyebrow quirked up at the mention of the boys mother. “i take it you guys aren’t together anymore?” you asked, cocking your head to the side.
toji was silent for a moment, his throat tightening at the mention of her. “she, uh, passed actually. a few months after megumi was born,” it was silent once again, toji was now avoiding eye contact with you. he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt you place a comforting hand on his knee. he whipped his head towards you, an apologetic look now on your face. “i’m sorry to hear that toji, but for what it’s worth i bet you’re an awesome fucking dad,” you gave his knee a little squeeze before pulling away.
“thank you, seriously. it feels nice to hear that because somedays i really wish she was here, not for me but for him. she was amazing i wish he got to know her the way i did,” toji was never the type to talk about his late wife, especially with someone he was trying to pursue, but you were different. you made him feel so safe and he barely even fucking knew you.
before he could babble anymore about her he stopped himself, fearing he’d make it even more awkward. “she sounds great toji m’sorry you lost her so soon. don’t worry though i’m sure you’ll find another love like that again,” and you meant every word you said.
“i can’t believe it’s only our second time speaking and i’ve already managed to bring up my dead wife, fuck am i doing?” he chuckled, throwing his head back against the seat. you quickly reassured him that all was well and you were grateful that he was felt so comfortable to share such a personal side of his life with you.
“i’d love to stay and talk more but gumi’s sitter has to leave early. ill see you again soon though yeah?” toji couldn’t help but brush his knuckles over the apple of your cheek, grinning when he felt the heat radiating from it. “you blushin’?” his grin now turning into a smirk.
“get away from me,” you swatted his hand away, unable to contain the smile forming on your glossed up lips. “this was real fun though, don’t keep me waiting too long now,” you gave toji one last smile before getting out of his car. the second he pulled away you whipped out your phone, immediately dialing your best friends number.
“hey…you busy? no? good because i needddd to talk about what just happened with someone.”
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
toji: hey pretty.
toji: you free? i wanna see you.
you squealed, kicking your feet with glee as you read toji’s messages. tonight was the night. after two months of unbearable sexual tension you were gonna claim that man in more ways than one. you quickly texted him back saying you were indeed available and to hurry his ass up.
you made your way to your closet, sifting through your clothes to find the outfit. you needed something that’ll make his head spin and dick hard…perhaps some subtle lingerie would do the job.
you finally settled on a lacy, red wine colored nightgown that showed just enough to have him wanting to see more. you brushed out your thirty inch bussdown, tugging it just the tiniest bit to see if it’d stay in place. toji was a big man and he looked like a hair puller—you were hoping you were wrong but if he was you were certainly praying your hair stayed in tact at least a little after he was through with you.
toji: i’m here. hurry it’s cold as fuck out here.
you took a deep breath, channeling your inner tina snow as you opened the door for him. “hi tojiii,” you beamed, resting your body against the door. toji’s jaw was quite literally almost to the floor as he took you in. if he looked close enough he could see your pretty lil nipple piercings through the nightgown.
“come in! come in! it’s freezing out there,” you tugged toji in your house by his sleeve, quickly shutting the door once he was inside. “what’re you all….dressed up for,” he asked lowly, nearly crushing the rello packets in his hand.
be patient. don’t get too excited. be patient.
he kept chanting that over and over in his mind but it was doing little to help him, especially since he was already sporting a semi. “oh i just thought i’d put on a little something nice for you i don’t know,” you could feel your confidence faltering under his lustful stare.
“well,” toji took a step closer to you, and then another, and then another till you both were nearly chest to chest. “i think you look really nice, sweet of you to get all dolled up for me,” he trailed his fingers over the material of your robe, chuckling the tiniest bit when he saw your bt21 cooky slippers. you looked up at him through your freshly done lashes, a grin making its way onto your lips.
you slipped your smaller hand into toji’s, guiding him to the living room. he wasted no time getting comfortable, his body immediately relaxing into the plushness of your couch. you sat on the opposite end of the much to his dismay, “why you so far away from me hm? come closer.” with shaky arms you scooted closer to him until your thighs were nearly touching, but it still wasn’t quite enough for him.
you let out a tiny gasp as toji easily picked you up and say you on his lap, you could feel the full throb of his dick against your ass. “that’s better,” he smirked, squeezing your hip gently.
it was silent for a few beats before you took the rello packet from toji, two pre rolled blunts waiting in there to be smoked. “so how long do i have you for tonight?” you asked, sparking the blunt. toji ran his tongue over the scar on his lip as he watched you exhale the smoke, not even realizing you had asked him a question.
“i have until eleven, gumi’s sitter was nice enough to stay an extra hour,” ever since toji had accidentally slipped up that he’d been seeing someone megumi’s sitter has been extra generous with her time. it probably helped that she was also getting paid some very hefty overtime. you glanced at the clock on your wall reading 7:18PM. only three hours and a couple something minutes of him to yourself—it was definitely time to kick things into overdrive.
“toji?” you spoke softly, passing the blunt to him. toji hummed, taking a long drag of the blunt as he stroked your back with his free hand. you readjusted your position on his lap, your arms now wrapped securely around his neck. the next six words that came out of your mouth nearly had him busting in his pants.
“you finally gonna fuck me tonight?”
“what did you just say?” his tone was low now, boarder line growling out the words. you sighed dreamily, brushing his soft, jet black hair out of his face. “i said are you finally gonna fuck me tonight? finally gonna show me you’re not such an old man?” your manicured fingers began to scratch at his nape, making him groan. toji closed his eyes, his head falling back against the couch.
“take off your robe.”
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
“tojiii,” you whined in defeat as toji sloppily kissed, sucked, and licked at the insides of your thighs—so close yet so far from where you really needed him to be. you made a few attempts to take your thong off but toji was having none of that and slapped your hands away each time, threatening to tie your wrist together with his belt if you tried it again.
you mewled when you felt his lips finally kiss your center over your panties, his tongue lolling out to get a taste at the wetness that seeped through them. your hands were balled into fists by your side, the urge to hump his face becoming unbearable.
“lift your hips up honey,” you heard his raspy voice speak from below you. you nearly screeched in happiness as he finally slid off your soaked panties, tiny webs of your slick sticking to your pussy. you jumped the tiniest bit when you felt a warm glob of spit fall on your clit.
“relax sweetness i got you,” was all toji said before dipping his tongue between your folds, immediately moaning at the sweet yet tart taste that was you. you felt his tongue cup your clit, the movements so soft and precise and it had your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.
you’ve been with men who claim they eat pussy for their own pleasure but toji….it was like he was making love to you with just his mouth the feeling the indescribable. each gush of your essence that spilled out was quickly slurped up by his greedy mouth, his moans nearly matching the volume of yours.
he was now drawing slow circles around your clit and that was what had your legs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing as you came on his skillful tongue. “t-toji you’re so goodddd,” you whined, shoving his face impossibly closer to your pussy.
toji finally released your clit from his lips with a pop! your cum now coating the entire lower half of his face. “do it again n’ this time put a finger in…please?” your brushed your thumb over his lips, whimpering when he sucked your thumb into his mouth. he ran his pointer and middle finger between your folds before pushing his middle finger inside, cursing under his breath at the way you were already squeezing his finger so fucking tight.
“you taste just as good as you smell pretty baby, i just knew you would though,” he licked his lips, not once taking his eyes off your cunt. “why’d you keep her from me for so long huh?” he rasped, slowly adding his ring finger into the mix. you squirmed underneath him, your hips rising each time he fucked his fingers into you. “i, uh, i-i don’t know i just—”
“you just what?” he teased, now sucking your clit into his mouth once more. your mouth dropped open, thighs immediately closing around toji’s head. you gasped wetly when you felt a rough smack against your thigh, a silent warning from toji to keep them open. you shakily opened your thighs again, your hands now finding purchase in toji’s soft locs. “you still ain’t answer my question,” he hummed, now rubbing sloppy circles on your clit with his thumb.
you shook your head in defeat, physically not being able to find the words as to why you deprived him and yourself of something so so good. “you liked teasing me pretty baby? ya liked sending me home with my dick hard each time i saw you? hm?” the squelching from your pussy got louder by the minute, you second orgasm of the night quickly approaching.
“i—”
“did you like feeling wanted by me? needed by me?” toji was now using his free hand to push down on your abdomen, smirking when he saw your legs start to shake again. all you could let out was an absurdly loud ‘oh shit!’ before you were gushing around toji’s fingers, a small stream of cum landing right on his awaiting tongue. his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he slurped up every drop you had to offer him. he hadn’t even noticed he was now grinding against the couch, his dick now fully hard.
toji pushed your nightgown up your tummy so he was able to kiss his way up your soft skin until he finally made it to your lips. he brought his thumb to your chin, pushing down ever so slightly until your mouth was open. you knew that look all too well. you could see the hesitation in his eyes so you helped him out a bit by sticking out your tongue, letting him know he had the green light.
not even a second later toji let a glob of spit fall from lips and onto your awaiting tongue, a lovesick smile making its way onto his lips as you swallowed it. “c’mere,” he mumbled, pressing his forehead against yours as he shoved his tongue in your mouth. he caressed his tongue against yours, swallowing each tiny moan you let out.
“so sweet baby, even your kisses taste like honey,” he moaned against your lips, pressing his dick against your pussy. he shuddered when he felt just how warm you really were, even over his sweatpants.
“you’re so hard toji,” you whispered against his lips, your foot stretched up to push against his dick making him groan. “lemme—lemme suck you off. can i please? just a little bit?” you continued rubbing your foot against him, internally turning him into a pile of mush. toji mindlessly nodded his head, making quick work to sit back on the couch.
you stood up on shaky legs, now kneeling before toji as he stared at you like you were his prey. you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them off with ease. toji sighed in relief when his dick finally sprung free, no longer confined by his boxers.
“your dick is so pretty,” you bit down on your bottom lip, taking just a little time to admire toji in all his glory. he was long and not only that but he was insanely thick. you grabbed his dick gently, the soft, velvety skin making your mouth water. “don’t be nervous if you can’t take all of it, i know i’m kinda big,” although he sounded apologetic the shit eating grin on his face said otherwise. you had to prove yourself now—you had to give him some fucking work now.
you licked your lips before suckling the tip in your mouth, lord he was already a damn mouthful. toji hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until he let out a long sigh, his head slightly tilting back. you kissed and licked your way up and down his dick, trying to make it as wet as you could before taking half of him in your mouth with ease. “a-ah shit y/n w-wait oh!” the back of his head nearly knocked against the couch as you took the rest of him in your mouth.
your throat felt so tight n hot around him it had him digging his nails into his muscly thighs, nearly drawing blood. you hummed around his dick, trying to relax your throat as much as possible. you knew he was close already, you didn’t even care if he came down your throat that instant. toji felt his balls tighten and began to frantically shake his head, “y/n please i don’t wanna cum so soon. please baby please.”
you brought your hand to his balls, now gently massaging them. he wanted to pull you away he really did, but no one has ever been able to deepthroat entirely before—you were showing him a whole new world. you began to bob your head, obnoxiously sucking on the base and tip as you did. “s-shit wait—”
unfortunately for toji it was too late for him. you felt a shot of cum hit your tongue and knew you had to milk him now for everything he was worth. you focused your lips solely on the tip, moaning as cum coated your tongue. “that’s so good baby keep sucking me like that, j-jus’ like that,” he ain’t even give a fuck no more that he came so soon. he had enough stamina to give you another mouthful of cum if you wanted it.
you finally removed his dick from your mouth, now slapping the appendage against your tongue. “now what were you saying about being too big for me,” you smiled up at him, both of your hands still stroking his dick. toji kissed his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest. he made quick work to remove his shirt, tossing it mindlessly to the side.
“get up here and bend over the armrest,” his voice had dropped a couple octaves and although it was a little frightening it didn’t stop the wetness pooling in your core. you stood up, about to remove your nightgown but you were stopped by toji, mumbling something about how he wanted you to keep it on.
you kneeled on the couch, bending over the armrest as you arched your back as much as possible. you could hear the crinkling of foil and quickly turned around, shaking your head at toji. “i want you raw, ‘wanna feel all of you without a stupid condom,” you nibbled on your bottom lip nervously as you voiced your request. toji was still for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours.
after a moment he tossed the condom aside, his hands now finding purchase on your hips. you could feel the hot base of his dick against your pussy, and you just couldn’t help but slowly move your hips back and forth. you both moaned in unison, the grip toji had on your hips now tightening.
“put it in for me,” he grunted, pulling his hips back. you licked your hand before reaching underneath you to grab his dick, giving it a few slow pumps before positioning the tip at your entrance. toji’s face scrunched up in pleasure as your pussy swallowed up his dick with ease, the dull stinging sensation hurting you in the best way possible.
it took a few minutes but he was finally able to bottom out, the tip of his dick nearly kissing your cervix. he pulled out halfway before slamming back in, the couch shifting forward the slightest bit. “good little fucking pussy,” toji grunted, spreading your asscheeks to get a nice little view of his dick fucking into you. you were taking him sooo well he was sooo proud of you.
“how you feeling pretty baby? talk to me,” toji wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling your body into his chest. your arms immediately reached behind you to tug at his hair, each tug earning you a pretty moan from him right in your ear. “feels s’good to-toji, you’re so f-fucking deep,” you gasped violently when you felt his rough fingers begin to toy with your swollen clit.
toji nibbled at your ear, licking the shell of it before whispering, “yeah? pretty girl feels me in her tummy hm? oh yeah i can feel me rightttt there.” your body jolted when you felt toji press down on the small imprint of his dick. he tightened his grip around your throat, nearly cutting off your airway completely.
“lets play a little game hm? i can feel how close you are so m’not gonna let you breathe until i feel this pussy cumming around my dick, that okay with you?” he loosened his grip on your neck until you consented, he couldn’t help but smile proudly.
“alright pretty baby cmon, make that pussy cum for me,” he growled now increasing the pace of his thrusts. it was now very hard for you to breathe as toji tightened his hand around your throat once again, the action making your pussy squeeze toji’s dick impossibly tight. your mouth dropped open, tongue lolling out of your mouth as toji fucked you like he hated your guys. “almost there girl, i can fucking feel that shit cmon baby give it to me,” toji grasped at your breasts over your nightgown, tweaking at your sensitive nipples.
you began to feel lightheaded, your legs nearly giving out on you. you finally came with a silent scream, your pussy spasming around toji’s dick. just as you were at the height of your orgasm toji finally removed his hand from your throat allowing you to breathe. you fell against the armrest, your body going completely limp as toji milked your orgasm out of your. “goddamn you’re still cumming baby, such a good girl for me m’so proud of you,” toji was praising you left and right as stream after stream of your cum soaked his thighs and the couch.
after you were done toji let you rest for a moment, still inside you as he gently stroked your back. “you okay mama?” he whispered in your ear, giving your shoulder a soft kiss. you hummed, nodding your head and crazy enough you still wanted more.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
“oh my goddd,” your feet kicked against the couch as toji’s bigger body pushed you further into the cushions, preventing you from moving out of his grasp. he had you in a chokehold, your drool and tears dripping onto his bicep as he fucked into you like a madman. “that’s that shit….good shit right here goddamn y/n,” toji grunted in your ear, sounding genuinely frustrated at just how good your pussy was.
my mans was completely lost in the sauce. not a thought behind his eyes besides one thing—you. your warmth, your wetness, the fact that you still smelled like a goddamn s’more even with the intense smell of sex and weed in the air. for the first time in his life toji was pussydrunk.
“m’gonna cum honey, you ready for me?” a symphony of moans and whiny yes’ poured out of your trembling lips. three more strokes and toji was letting out a pornographic moan, his teeth biting down onto the soft skin of shoulder. rope after rope of his warm cum coated your walls, so much it was beginning to leak from your pussy. “so full,” you mewled, your toes curling at the warmth that now radiated throughout your entire body.
toji wholeheartedly believes that he was a man that was born to breed a whole lotta babies because it was absolutely ridiculous at how much he came—especially right now. each time he thought he was done your pussy would squeeze him once more, milking more out of him until it was almost painful. what was even worse was the he was still hard.
that’s how he ended up taking you roughly from the side. your ass was clapping back against his pelvis n thighs so hard they turned the lightest shade of pink. “y’hear how sloppy your pussy sounds honey? makes me wanna ruin you over and over again,” he growled in your ear, gripping onto your chin to have you look at him. your eyes were closed in bliss, a trail of drool slipping from your lips and onto your chin.
toji licked at the spit on your chin before giving your face a couple quick slaps, “open your eyes n’ look at me while i fuck you. cmon pretty baby lemme see those eyes.” you cracked your eyes open immediately whimpering at toji’s intense gaze. toji slowed down his pace, now settling for slow, deep strokes. “you’re so pretty,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours.
you gave him a weak smile, moaning when his dick hit a particularly deep spot. “can’t nobody else see you like this again except me got it? you’re my girl now. mine to hold, kiss, fuck—i want all that shit y/n. i want all of you, can i have you?” if you able to you would’ve swooned over his words, but unfortunately all your poor little fucked up brain could muster was a raspy ‘yes.’
toji gave you a sweet smile and a lil kiss before going back to his brutal pace, the couch thumping the ground with each thrust. “that’s what i like to hear honey, gonna treat you so well. make you the happiest girl in the world i promise,” and he meant it. every promise he whispered in your ear he would make sure to keep it until the end of his days. you were the one—he was sure of it.
“i’m gonna cum toji,” you whined, bringing your hand down to rub furiously at your clit. toji gave you a helping hand by spreading your lips, the squelching noise from your pussy increasing as he did so. “m’gonna cum too honey, let’s do it together cmon m’right there,” you both so so close until toji accidentally slipped out of your pussy, a pearl of cum dribbling from the tip.
you were just too wet he could barely fuck into you without slipping out once more, frustration overtaking the both you. “goddammit,” he grunted, gripping his dick tightly once again before slipping back in you—this time he just kept a hold on it. “fuck back into me baby, you can do it there you go,” toji moaned in bliss as you fucked back into him, your wetness dripping onto his knuckles.
“yes yes yes f-fuck!” you pressed your backside into him as much as possible as your orgasm took over you, his trailing not far behind. the hand he was using to hold his dick steady was now holding your leg up, gripping onto the soft flesh of your thigh as he fucked into you with shallow strokes. he came inside your pussy with a deep groan, pulling out to cover your pussy with the rest of it.
toji gently set your leg down, now pulling your trembling body into his chest. “it’s okay pretty thing we’re done now, i got you just breathe with me,” you took a couple deep breaths, running your hand along toji’s toned body just to make sure he was really there—that this really happened.
“that was good, thank you toji,” you whispered, nuzzling your face in his chest. toji kissed the crown of your head, taking yet another deep inhale of your sweet scent. “no thank you, that was the best sex i’ve ever fucking had and i mean it,” he chuckled, giving your shoulder a loving squeeze. you glanced at the clock on your wall, whining when you said it was thirty minutes till eleven.
“i guess you’ll have to get going soon hm?” you mumbled, making toji frown. toji nibbled on his lip before shaking his head, “don’t worry about it honey i’ll take care of it, you just rest up yeah?” he gave your forehead another kiss, shushing any protest you had about him having to leave.
once you were fast asleep toji reached for his phone that was on the coffee table, careful not to wake you. he dialed the sitters number, praying for the absolute best.
“mr. fushiguro! how’s your date going, will you be home soon?” toji felt horrible for what he was about to ask but he at least had to try. “it’s going good, thank you! actually i was wondering if you would stay the night with megumi? paying you overtime is no problem in fact i’ll triple it! i just wanna spend as much time with my girlfriend as i can,” sure he hadn’t properly asked you to be his woman yet but she didn’t have to know that.
the line was quiet for a moment before the sitter started laughing, “of course i wouldn’t mind saying the night with him! i haven’t seen you this giddy over a woman since mrs. fushiguro, please enjoy your night and i’ll see you in the morning!” after multiple thank you’s toji hung up, his heart swelling with happiness.
“baby….hey i’m able to stay the night im gonna take us to bed, where’s your room?” you mumbled out the directions to your room and before you knew it you were wrapped in your comforter with toji glued to your side.
#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x black reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jjk toji#jjk x reader
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Levi's horrible flirting skills part 11. Final
Masterlist link to all the previous parts.
"That’s how I wanted to catch you.”
"Tch." Levi walked down the cobblestone streets, his jacket slung over his shoulder, the night air warm and filled with the fading echoes of festivities. The stars glittered above, their brilliance almost drowned out by the city's dimming lights. He avoided eye contact, rolling his eyes at the pointed comment, feeling the call-out was entirely unnecessary.
“Shame, shame on you,” Erwin’s deep voice reverberated in the empty street. The commander and Hange stood by a nearby gate, both awaiting a cart to take them home. Erwin's icy blue gaze was fixed on Levi’s head, as if trying to will him into submission through sheer scrutiny.
But Levi, ever unbothered, leaned back against the wrought-iron gates of the manor where the party had been held, content to wait in silence.
Hange, unable to contain themselves, giggled beside Erwin. “What’s with the long face, Levi?” they teased, reaching out to poke at Levi’s sides in an attempt to draw a reaction.
Levi shot them a withering glance, raising a single eyebrow but maintaining his stoic facade. “And you? I didn’t see you all night. What hole did you crawl into, four eyes?”
Hange’s smile faltered, their usual cheer dimming as they leaned back against the gate. “None of your business,” they muttered, crossing their arms defensively.
“That’s what I thought,” Levi murmured, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “There’s honour among thieves, right?”
The cart finally rolled up, the sound of its wheels breaking the silence. Erwin let out a long-suffering sigh, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “You two are incorrigible,” he muttered, sounding like a weary parent at the end of their rope. “I swear, I’m not taking you two anywhere ever again.”
Hange broke into laughter again, but Levi nudged them, their voice laced with mock seriousness. “And who else are you going to bring? We’re the only ones left,” they quipped, before Hange’s chuckles burst into full-blown laughter at the absurdity of their own joke.
Levi had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, his hand covering his eyes as he struggled to maintain his composure in front of his superior.
—
Levi finished saddling his horse, meticulously preparing his equipment for the upcoming expedition. He moved with precision, checking the horse’s hooves to ensure everything was in perfect condition; the animal was his trusted companion into battle, and no detail could be overlooked. He was nearly done when Hange rushed over, their steps hurried and chaotic, papers and blueprints haphazardly clutched under one arm. They were clearly late, scrambling to finish preparations.
“Erwin got mad for real this time,” Hange blurted out, still catching their breath from running around with the last-minute tasks that had piled up on them.
Levi glanced up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I told you not to press your luck that night,” he said, tightening the straps on his saddle without missing a beat.
Hange huffed, shuffling through their papers. “Oh, please. Like you’re one to talk,”
The two fell into step beside their horses, the steady clatter of hooves on the cobblestones mingling with the sounds of soldiers readying for the march. They moved purposefully through the city, navigating the controlled chaos as soldiers took their positions. The massive gates loomed ahead, towering and imposing, the final barrier between the city’s safety and the uncertainty beyond.
Levi walked alongside his horse; his gaze fixed ahead. As they approached the gates, he was just about to mount when a familiar tug on his jacket stopped him. Usually, citizens knew better than to get that close. Perhaps kids could get a bit excited, but everyone generally respected the formation. He turned, finding Y/N slipping through the crowd to reach him.
Pushing through the crowd with a sense of urgency, Y/N finally reached Levi. “Hey,” she said, a bit breathless, as she stepped into his personal space.
Levi, momentarily stunned, managed to echo her greeting with a dazed, “Hey.” His hand still gripped the reins of his horse, which shifted slightly, sensing the tension.
“I…” she began, searching for the right words. “I thought I should come by and wish you luck.”
The moment hung awkwardly between them, both unsure of how to proceed. They were like two people trying to navigate a conversation where the rules were unclear, both wary of overstepping boundaries.
Levi’s attention shifted as he glanced at the formation of his squad, the urgency of their departure pressing on him. “Thanks,” he said, his voice softening slightly, though his focus remained on the task at hand. “I don’t have much time.”
‘How is this done? Do I... like, kiss her here or...?’
‘No, the last thing I need is my cadets seeing me kiss her. I’ll never hear the end of it. Too much PDA for me, no thanks.’
Y/N, sensing the awkwardness, fumbled with the package she had brought. “I—I didn’t know what to get you, but I thought this might be nice.” She pushed the makeshift bundle into his hands, her fingers brushing his.
Levi looked down at the bundle, then back at her. His usually guarded expression softened ever so slightly. He accepted the package, his grip lingering for a brief moment of silent gratitude. The weight of the gift felt both tangible and symbolic.
Around them, the few remaining citizens cast curious glances, especially other women who watched with interest. Levi, uncomfortable with the display of affection, tried to smooth over the awkwardness.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice sincere and low. He tucked the bundle into his saddlebag with meticulous care, as if securing it was as important as his weapons. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
Y/N nodded, her gaze following him as he prepared to mount his horse. She could feel the eyes on her, the whispers and murmurs, and exchanged a few sharp glances with the group of girls nearby. Then, with a determined tug on his cloak, she forced him to turn around.
Gripping his forearm, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be here, so don’t keep me waiting.”
Levi stiffened at the unexpected gesture, unsure how to react. After a moment’s pause, he gave a curt nod. “I’ll come back.”
He turned his attention back to the slowly opening gates, nudging his horse forward with a firm resolve. As the city’s lights faded behind him, the cool night air enveloped him.
Later, around the campfire, Levi sat on an improvised seat, the tired soldiers gathered around as the night grew darker. With the titan movements lessening without the daylight, Levi pulled out the container from his saddlebag. The package rested between his parted legs and stained white trousers from all the heavy work as the formation tried to reach forward on titan’s territory. The sight of the sandwiches, reminiscent of those from their second date, brought a rare smile to his face.
‘I sold my dignity to land a girlfriend and crawled back to her like an idiot with no self-respect... for this,’ he mused, reaching for a sandwich and savouring the taste. ‘... worth it.’
Just as he was about to take another bite, a hand snaked out, trying to grab a piece from the untouched portions. With his sharp reflexes, Levi snatched the hand away before lifting the container out of reach.
“Ow!” Hange pouted, nursing their now-sore hand. “Come on, you’re not going to eat all that. Give me a piece.”
With his mouth full, Levi mumbled, “Get your own wifey.”
Levi had always been dedicated to his cause, to their cause as Scouts. He had always given his best in every expedition, no exceptions. But as he sliced through the nape of a Titan and landed effortlessly on a tree branch, he couldn’t deny that the memory of her starry eyes looking into his, promising to wait, was replaying in his mind.
‘There’s no way I’m not returning.’
Though he tried to be understanding—she has a job... and three fat little furballs to look after—there was an underlying hope that when he returned, she would be there. Despite their frustratingly interrupted encounter, her coming to see him off had stirred a sense of vulnerability in him that he didn’t fully understand. He didn’t particularly enjoy it, but he didn’t hate it either.
‘That was so fucking awkward.’
‘...hope she does it more often.’
It was rewarding, for once, that she was the one taking active steps. ‘Did I really nail it? Are we... together, together?’ While a small part of him was celebrating—Yes, it’s happening—that euphoric feeling was overshadowed by the thought, ‘Now I’ve got to make it last.’
Levi sighed deeply as his name was called from another part of the formation. Scratching his undercut, he scoffed to himself, amused by the thought, ‘If that stupid moron Nile, whose brain is as thin as his mustache, managed to get a wife and three kids, keeping a girl can’t be that hard. Just don’t be an asshole, I suppose.’
The expedition had been grueling, and by the time they returned, the soldiers were battered, exhausted, and heavy with the losses they had endured. The city gates opened to receive them, but there was no fanfare—only the quiet murmur of the public disapproval.
Levi dismounted his horse with a weary grace, his movements stiff from days in the saddle. He noticed the makeshift infirmary set up just beyond the gates, a stark reminder of the cost of their mission. Wounded soldiers lay on cots, some groaning in pain while others remained eerily silent. The scene was all too familiar, yet no less sobering.
Levi paused, his heart skipping a beat when he caught sight of her. She had volunteered before but somehow it felt different this time. There was something about seeing her in this role—so capable.
He cleared his throat and approached, but the words he had planned to say vanished as soon as she looked up and met his gaze. Her eyes widened, relief and worry mingling in their depths.
“Levi,” she breathed, standing up. “You’re back.”
He nodded, struggling to find his voice. “I’m back.” His body tensed as her arms enveloped him. His hands instinctively moved to her forearms, almost ready to push her off.
‘Don’t—’
He warned himself internally, but he avoided making eye contact with the other medical staff who were watching them. ‘I’ll have to get used to this, or I’ll keep looking like a possum that froze in place to avoid death.’
As she parted, her eyes traced over his figure, searching for any sign of injury.
Levi shrugged off her scrutiny with a sharp “I’m fine. Just tired.”
She did a quick check on her coworkers that with a single glance reassure her that they could take care of the situation on their own.
Levi shifted his weight, unsure of what to say but feeling the need to bridge the awkwardness. “Those sandwiches came in handy,” he admitted, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I’m glad they were useful,” she said, “I can make more next time.”
‘Next time,’
“I volunteered to help at the surgery tent since I figured I might stay behind,” she commented casually, without rush or fear.
“Stay behind?”
A little giggle escaped her lips before she pressed them together, blushing slightly. “I mean, if you want me to stay.”
“Ah, yes. Sure,” he replied almost immediately.
‘For that, you’re rather quick, aren’t you? Asshole.’
It came so naturally from her. ‘Four-Eyes was right; if we have kids and they turn out charismatic, they definitely didn’t get it from me.’
“Did you bring anything?” His eyes scanned the area. “I’ll take it to the office for safekeeping. There are a lot of unfamiliar people walking around the camp.”
“Oh, sure! It’s in the main tent, a burgundy bag.”
Levi froze, hoping his usual stoic expression would hide the confusion he felt. “...Right.”
‘What the hell is burgundy?’
“It’s a purplish dark red bag,” she clarified, and Levi nodded, accepting the hint but also realizing she probably noticed he had no idea what she was talking about.
Before he could say more, one of the medics called her over, and Y/N was needed again. She gave him a quick, apologetic look, her duty calling her back. “I have to—”
“I know,” Levi cut in, nodding. “Do your thing.”
—
“I should have tidied up.”
The thought would probably sound ridiculous to anyone who could hear him muttering and grumbling to himself; his chambers were spotless. They were always spotless. But as he walked around, making slight adjustments that only he would notice, there was an anxious energy buzzing under his calm demeanor. He had already showered and changed into a fresh uniform, his hair still slightly damp, and the scent of soap lingered faintly in the air.
If his place was dirty, what hope was there for Hange’s?
‘Should I have done more? Lit a candle or something?’
It was a ridiculous thought, one he quickly dismissed with a shake of his head. ‘No, that’s stupid,’
But as he organized his quarters and took care of the soldiers who had survived, Levi spotted Jean and Eren arguing near a stack of crates. Their voices were low, but the tension between them was evident. Before either of them could react, Levi was upon them, grabbing them both by the collars of their jackets and yanking them close, forcing both teens to bend as he kept their heads under his arms.
“You two idiots,” Levi hissed, his voice a dangerous whisper. “I don’t care what petty nonsense you’re bickering about. You or the rest of the team. I’m going to say this once, so clean out your filthy ears.”
Jean and Eren, both startled and slightly terrified, nodded in unison.
“After dinner, my chambers are off-limits, understood?”
“Y-yes, sir,” Eren replied, terrified. But Jean whispered, “Why? What happens tonight?”
Levi’s death glare was enough to shut the other teen up quickly and kill any further questions. “Whatever happens after that time, I don’t care if one of you contracts the Black Plague, the Colossal Titan breaks through the wall again, or you lose a limb. If you interrupt me, I’ll kick your asses so badly you’ll forget sitting was an option. Now pass the message to the rest.”
Levi released them with a sharp push, causing them to stumble back. “Oi, best behaviour during dinner,” he ordered, and both nodded enthusiastically.
“What happens at dinner?” Levi could hear Jean whispering to Eren as he walked away.
—
“May I take a shower?” She asked as her heels echoed against the office’s wood planks.
“A part of me was hoping you’d keep the uniform on,” Levi teased, his voice dropping to a low murmur. As he closed the door behind him and the scrutiny of other’s finished, Levi didn’t anything holding him back.
She stopped, a grin spreading across her face as she turned to face him. “Is that a kink of yours?” she asked, her tone smooth and teasing.
Levi felt a rare warmth spread through his chest. “It wasn’t,” he admitted, taking a step closer to her, “until I saw you in it.”
Her chuckle was soft, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, brushing her fingers lightly over his arm as she walked past him towards the bathroom.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, turning towards her bag. “I actually have a surprise for you.”
Levi’s eyebrows raised slightly in curiosity as she rummaged through the bag.
‘A gift? For me? … Pink lingerie. She knows me so well,’
A moment later, she pulled out a small, beautifully wrapped package. She held it out to him, her eyes watching his reaction carefully.
He took the package, his fingers brushing against the smooth wrapping. “What’s this?” he asked, already feeling the slight weight of it in his hand.
“Open it,” she urged, her voice tinged with excitement.
Levi carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a metal box with an intricately designed label. He recognized the brand—it was a high-quality tea, the kind he seldom allowed himself to indulge in. The metallic glint of the box caught the light, and for a moment, he simply stared at it.
‘Well... she does know me well but in other departments’
“My friends brought it back as a ‘we’re sorry’ gift,” she explained. “I thought you might like it—they asked me what they should get you.”
He opened the box, the faint, earthy scent of the tea leaves rising up to meet him. “This shit is expensive,” Levi said, looking back at her, dubious.
“Well, let's just say you’re not the only one who finds the uniforms pretty,” she joked. “The employee at the shop also thinks it looks great on my friend.”
Seizing his opportunity as she turned to head to the bathroom, Levi's hands found their way to her hips, guiding her back toward him with a firm grip. The sudden movement pressed him against the edge of his desk, but he didn’t care. His lips captured hers in a swift, fervent kiss, driven by the impulse of the moment. If he couldn’t find the words to tell her how he’d been counting the days and the miles just to have her close again, he’d show her instead.
Levi's hands roamed freely, exploring the curve of her waist and tracing the outline of her back with a possessiveness that surprised even him. His lips were insistent against hers, and she could feel the soft brush of his hair against her face. She chuckled and turned her head to the side, but as the kiss broke, he began to trail kisses down her jaw, his hands continuing their exploration over the curves of her body.
“Ah—Lev, wait,” she said, her hands gripping his shoulders to slow the onslaught. “The shower.”
“Yeah, we can do it there later too,” he joked, completely ignoring the real reason behind her words.
His curious right hand traveled downward, slipping beneath the skirt of her uniform and testing the limits of the tights she wore underneath. His fingers—index and middle—slid along the side of her leg, finding their way under the fabric, which stretched slightly as his hand gripped her thigh.
She moaned into their shared, sloppy kisses, his other hand moving to the back of her head, pulling her closer as they tilted to deepen the contact. Her half-lidded eyes fixed on his reddened lips, their breaths mingling in the scant space between them.
Levi’s hands reached forward, eager to capture her lips again, but she leaned back. “My uniform is dirty,” she insisted, her voice a breathy protest. “I’ve been working all day.”
His hands roamed over her, gripping every inch he could reach. “I don’t mind getting filthy if it’s for a good reason,” he replied, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with her. “Besides, what’s the point of having a nurse girlfriend if I can’t enjoy taking the damn uniform off you, huh?”
Levi leaned forward, sucking along the edge of her jawline. “Ah-” a soft gasp escaped her as she instinctively tilted her head, granting him more space to explore. Her eyes fluttered shut, losing herself in the sensation of his rough, calloused hands moving over her clothes.
He turned her around swiftly, pressing her body firmly against the edge of the desk, trapping her between the solid wood and his weight. The office had dimmed, the setting sun casting long shadows as it disappeared over the horizon. No one was left on the training grounds; they were utterly alone. The absence of prying eyes gave her a sense of freedom as he pushed her further onto the desk, his hands deftly working the tiny white buttons of her uniform. He stopped midway, the gap just wide enough for him to slip his hand beneath the fabric, savouring the warmth of her waist as he squeezed possessively.
His grip shifted to her ass, pulling her closer and lifting her slightly onto the desk. “HMP!” a soft yelp was quickly swallowed by his kiss. The cool surface of the desk beneath her was a stark contrast. Persistent lips sucked her collarbones, bite marks slowly turning into shades of purple as he descended.
He trailed kisses down her body, the sensation of his teeth grazing her skin sending shivers down her spine.
As he pushed her bra up, her nipples peaked, hardening under the cool air of the room. Levi's hands roamed, one gripping her ass. Then he leaned in, taking one bud into his mouth, suckling it gently. Her breath hitched; hands moved to undo the upper part of her dress but Levi stopped it.
Levi stopped her, his voice rough as he muttered against her skin, "I want to fuck you in it."
She smirked, her hair sticking to her forehead as she glanced down at him. His dark hair was a striking contrast against her uniform. Moving her leg up, still clad in her heels, the sole of it landed on his chest and pushed him backwards.
He blinked, momentarily confused, but his hands quickly moved to grasp her ankle, his thumb tracing the edge of her shoe with a teasing touch. Her cheeky smile as she playfully said, "At least take the tights off. I'm boiling in them."
The view from below was more than pleasing. Levi's eyes darkened with desire as he held her extended leg, his fingers sliding over the smooth velvet fabric. His attention shifted upward, fingers hooking onto the edge of her heel before carefully setting it aside. His eyes traced the shine of the thighs upwards as he finally locked eyes with the subtle switch of colour of her underwear under the tights. It became more and more exposed as her skirt bunched up around the desk and Levi, with a firm grip on her ankle, pushed her leg apart and rested it over his shoulder.
His lips quirked into a small smile, his hands savouring every inch of her as they travelled up her leg. "Are you hot? Are you melting?" he asked, his voice thick with lust.
His lips quirked into a small smile, his hands savouring every inch of her as they travelled up her leg. "Are you hot? Are you melting?" he asked drunk on it.
"I am," she breathed, her tone luxurious, each word dripping with satisfaction as his attention remained fully on her. His hands reached the edge of her tights, his fingers hooking into the fabric, and slowly, inch by inch, he rolled them down. It felt as though he was unwrapping a present he’d been waiting forever to receive, even though he already knew what was inside.
The other heel followed, and he repeated the process as her legs hovered over his shoulders. "Tell me more," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire, as he reached for the waistband of her underwear.
"I’ve been thinking of you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, yet filled with need. "Of the other day,”
Her eyes locked onto his, her chest rising and falling rapidly as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear. "I've been imagining your hands on me, your mouth... everywhere."
“Is that so? Did you think of me after you left me with a hard on?” Levi said but there was an underneath lurking anger on it.
He began to playfully bite the inside of her thighs, “Ah-” her head fell backwards, moaning softly. Her redden lips parted, her eyes fluttering closed as he began to peel her underwear down, "Mmm, I did,” she confessed, her hips rocking against the hard wood desk, "I imagined it was your fingers inside me— Mhm! ah-, fucking me."
"You enjoyed it, didn't you?" He continued to nibble on her sensitive skin.
“Yeah,” it came out higher pitched than she anticipated, “Bitting my lower lip so my friends wouldn’t hear me as I felt all soft and ready, wet enough for you to slip right in,”
Levi's grip tightened on her thighs as he growled, "Fuck, Y/N." His hands moved to her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the desk. "I want to taste you," he murmured, his breath hot against her inner thigh.
He leaned in, his tongue flicking against her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips. His hands gripped her ass, holding her in place as he began to tease her with his tongue, licking and sucking in a maddening rhythm.
"Levi," she moaned, her hands fisting his hair. "More."
Her hand moved to grip his hair, fingers tangling in his dark locks as she tugged for support. It felt like floating, yet she needed something to ground her. The way her head hung back, and her body rocked against his face made her fear she might fall.
His cock throbbing in his trousers. He obliged, his tongue delving deeper, tasting every inch of her. He could feel her getting close, her body tensing, her breath coming in short gasps. He wanted to make her come, to feel her clench around his tongue.
Y/N’s grip on his hair tightened, her knuckles turning white as she pulled him closer. "Levi... please," she begged, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm close..."
Her body tensed, her hips rocking against his face as he continued to tease her with his tongue. He could feel her getting wetter, her arousal coating his face. “Hmh,” he groaned against her.
He looked up at her, his eyes locking onto hers as he slid two fingers inside her, curling them upward to hit that spot that would send her over the edge. Her moans echoed in the empty office, her legs tightening around his head, pulling him closer. "Ah, ah!" The moans and the twitching of her body became more rapid, escaping her lips more frequently until she tensed. Both of her knuckles turned white—one gripping his hair, the other pressing against the edge of the desk. Her mouth hung open, silently drinking in the noise as she came against his face.
Levi didn't let up, continuing to lap at her clit as she rode out her orgasm. He felt her body shudder, her legs quivering around his head. He loved the taste of her. He could do this all night. He had been waiting for so long, that he simply couldn’t get enough.
He slowly pulled his fingers out of her, his tongue giving one last lick and wiping the dropping from his chin with the back of his hand. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire.
She bit her bottom lip in excitement as he said that. He stood up and she quickly moved to grip his shirt to capture his lips in a bruising kiss. There was something in her reaction to his words that tingled in his mind.
‘She likes this... she like it like this,’
His hands moved with urgency, his cock was straining against his trousers, painfully. His fingers found her clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles. He watched her squirm, her hips bucking against his hand. He smirked, his eyes never leaving hers.
"You're so fucking wet," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "You're so ready for me, aren't you?"
Though his initial plan had been to take it slower, to make it more romantic since it was their first time, he gave in to his instincts, trusting they knew better than his conscious mind what she truly wanted. He unbuckled his belt, the metallic clink breaking the silence. Bending over his desk, he reached into the drawer, blindly searching for a condom. "Turn around," he commanded, his voice firm. "I want to fuck you from behind."
“And you?” she whispered against his lips, “Did you think of me?”
"Every fucking night, Y/N," he admitted, his voice a low growl. "I've jerked off to the thought of you more times than I can count."
He spun her around, pushing her against the desk. "Now, bend over the desk," he commanded, his voice firm. "I want to see your ass in the air, begging for my cock."
“Ah-” As she obeyed, her body flush against the hard surface, he tore off the condom, rolling it onto his throbbing cock. As she bent over, he took a moment to admire her ass, the curve of it inviting him in. His fingers trailed down her spine, stopping just above her ass. He wanted to savour this moment, to make sure she knew just how much he desired her.
As one hand hold her hips in position and gave her a little push forward to make her fully spread on the desk, his other hand gripping the base of his cock. The anticipation was killing him. He rubbed the head of his cock against her entrance, teasing her.
Peeking over her shoulder, she let out a soft, humming moan of both need and pleased surprise at his size. When her gaze met his, her expression was intoxicated with lust. “Fuck me, Levi... fuck me already.”
He was so close to losing control, to just slamming into her and taking what he wanted. But he held back, wanting to make this last.
He pushed in, slowly at first, savouring the tightness of her pussy. He groaned, his eyes rolling back as he slowly pushed himself inside her, taking his time to savour the feeling of her tightness around him. Her forehead rested on the rough surface, her breath fogging the area as she felt him bottom out. The pleasure was overwhelming, too intense even to moan. His cock stretched her in all the right places, hitting every spot just right.
"You feel so fucking good, Y/N," he grunted, his voice a low growl. "You're everything I dreamed of." He could feel her trembling, her walls gripping him. He began to thrust, slowly at first, each movement deeper and harder. "Fuck, you're so tight,"
“Mh-AH,” his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, “Fuck me harder, Captain,”
His thrusts picked up speed, his hips slamming into her with a force that made the desk creak beneath them. He gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pounded into her, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room.
"You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. His hand moved up to tangle in her hair, tugging it to force her to arch her back and meet his gaze as he bent over her. "You’ve got me being all nice to you, but then you love it when I fuck you hard, treating you like my little slut."
Her eyes flickered to his, a subtle chuckle slipping through her lips between heavy pants and soft whimpers each time he bottomed out. He could feel her walls tightening around him, her wetness coating his cock. "Ah—Nhm, that’s it, Cap. Give me the princess treatment, but fuck me like you hate me."
"Fuck—" Levi grunted, his jaw clenched, frowning deeply as her body tightened around him. It felt absurdly good. "You’re gonna be the death of me."
“So close so close,” she repeated. Pulling out almost completely, he slammed back into her, his hips slapping against her ass. "Fuck, yes," she moaned, her head falling forward as she gripped the edge of the desk, her nails digging into the wood. He could feel her body tensing, her breath coming in short gasps. He wanted to make it last, to draw out her pleasure, but he was already so close to the edge.
He reached around, his fingers finding her clit and began to rub it in quick, circular motions. "Come for me, Y/N," he demanded, his voice a harsh growl. "I want to feel you come all over my cock."
"Mhp! Ah—Levi—" Her half-lidded eyes fluttered, struggling to process the overwhelming pleasure as his hot breath fanned against her shoulder.
He panted heavily; his voice distant in her haze. "Ah—fuck, yes," he groaned, the words barely reaching her ears as she was lost in the shuddering waves her body sent through her. His cock felt absurdly big, her walls twitching and squeezing around him, making it almost impossible for him to give that final thrust before his hips jerked against her.
With a low groan, his head fell forward, forehead resting on her back as he rode out his orgasm.
—
The subtle glow that seeped through the window and the sheen of sweat on his skin pulled him reluctantly into awareness. It was stiflingly hot, even though it was still early, with the summer sun already piercing through the stone walls and heating up everything in its path. The rising temperatures, even at dawn, offered little relief as every inch of the mattress seemed to radiate warmth. Levi stretched his legs, searching in vain for a cool spot to alleviate the discomfort.
But as his legs tangled with hers, he cracked his eyes open. He wasn’t used to sharing his bed or simply sleeping on it; if he had been, he might have already decided that thicker curtains were a necessary investment. Yet, the sight of her bare back, the nape of her neck, and her hair splayed across his pillow made it impossible to resist drawing closer. He pressed a kiss to the crook of her neck, the tiny bed feeling absurdly small for them both—but he found no issue with it, as they’d likely end up cuddled together anyway.
“Hmm,” she groaned, her protest muffled as his nibbles on her shoulder blades nudged her toward wakefulness. “Morning…”
“Morning,” he replied, his voice rough and dry. He shifted slightly, fitting himself snugly against her back, wrapping both arms around her and leaning in for a quiet kiss. “How did you sleep?”
She closed her eyes again, still too early for them to stay open. With a light scoff of amusement, she murmured, “Very nicely… but going to bed with my hair wet wasn’t the best idea. It’s going to look a mess now... and I think I need another shower.”
His fingers combed through her hair, still damp in some places. The smile that tugged at his lips was palpable as he left a final kiss on her head, inhaling the lingering scent of her shampoo.
“It looks fine,” he reassured.
“No, it doesn’t,” she countered, stubborn in her opinion.
“Well, why don’t you try to fix it while I go make us something for breakfast?” he suggested.
Eyes still closed, she smiled at the prospect. “…Or I could just sleep a little longer while you do that,” she teased, earning a quiet chuckle from him.
Without further debate, Levi slipped out of bed, watching as she quickly drifted back to sleep, her soft, almost inaudible snores filling the room.
‘Maybe she’s not a morning person,’ he mused. ‘Maybe it’s best if I just let her sleep.’
Levi made his way to the superiors' kitchen. The halls were rather empty at this hour, especially after an expedition when there was no training or responsibilities the following day. The bare minimum after risking their lives. Levi, in particular, hadn’t even bothered to put his uniform on; somehow, walking down the corridors in civilian clothes always felt a bit odd. The familiar weight and playful tug on his shoulder told him it was Hange before they even spoke.
“Well, look who’s up and about,” Hange grinned, leaning in closer with that mischievous glint in their eyes. “So, how did it go? I want details—give me all the dirty, wet ones too.”
Levi rolled his eyes but couldn’t fully hide the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “None of your business, Four-Eyes,” he muttered, brushing them off lightly. “Fulfill your voyeur fantasies with someone else.”
“Oh, come on,” Hange laughed, poking him in the side. “When’s the due date? March? A spring baby! Oh, I’m going to be such a cool aunt!”
They slung an arm around his shoulders again, eyebrows waggling with playful complicity. Levi’s face darkened into a frown, one eyebrow raising in silent confusion.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Levi kept walking, not even bothering to shrug off Hange’s arm. “There aren’t any kids. I wrapped.”
For once, Hange was speechless, staring at him with wide eyes. “…But we did all this for that—so you could have those kids you’ve been wanting so badly!”
Levi’s expression stayed flat, deadpan as ever. “We’ve got the same salary.”
“And?!” Hange threw their arms up in the air, exasperated.
Levi, completely unbothered, took his time with each word, like he was explaining something painfully obvious. “Could you afford a kid?”
Silence settled over the hallway. Hange’s arms dropped slightly as the weight of Levi’s words sank in. “...You’ve got a point, shorty.”
“Besides,” Levi continued, still calm as ever, “I’d like to enjoy being in a relationship before changing diapers.”
Hange rested their arm back on his shoulders, falling in step with him again. “That’s if she doesn’t leave you first. You’ll be back to being single before you know it.”
Levi groaned, sounding genuinely weary. “Ugh, I’m never going back to the dating game. This was my first and last shot at flirting. If she leaves, I’m dying alone.”
Hange snorted, amused by his serious tone. “Wow, you sound so romantic. But seriously, do you realise from now on you’ll have to go to events, plan anniversary celebrations, make sure she doesn’t think you’re cheating when you two are apart? It’s a lot of work.”
Levi sighed, the weight of the upcoming responsibilities already pressing on him. “Oh, I know. When you’ve got a girlfriend, you’ve got to be loyal… and attentive,” he said, thinking back over everything that had happened in the past year. “And in my case… thankful.”
The end.
Sorry for the delay, but I’ve had some health issues to deal with. Thankfully, I’m doing much better now, though the antihistamines I’m taking make me really sleepy. Unfortunately, that’s caused me to fall behind on my work, which I had to prioritize—haha, as much as I wish I could make a living writing Levi smut, that’s not quite the case yet. Thank you so much to everyone who sent well wishes and for supporting this story from day one! From the bottom of my heart, I’m so grateful for all the love you've shown this story—it’s truly been the reason I’ve kept smiling. My only hopes are that you enjoyed the ending (or at least didn’t hate it) and that I can write another story that’s as cherished as this one has been. Lots of love, Lucy <3
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!
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Dragon's Favourite Sacrifice – Trey Clover x reader
Trey finds himself volunteering to be the human sacrifice to you in place of his siblings. What he didn't expect was to become your housekeeper instead of being eaten.
Crossposted from my ao3!
The village doesn’t know how to react when Trey volunteers as a sacrifice. He’s fully prepared for the worst, thinking back on all the horror stories the elders tell about the dragon god—the terrifying, ancient being that can destroy their village with one swipe of a claw. At least, that’s what everyone says.
But it had to be done. The village is on the brink of disaster and their last hope was the dragon god that lived in the mountains. The villagers began to proclaim that this was happening because they forgot to send a sacrifice in recent years. And when the current sacrifice chosen turned out to be one of his younger siblings, Trey had no choice but to volunteer himself.
As he approaches the temple, though, Trey wonders why the place looks like it hasn't been touched in years. Not exactly what you’d expect from a wrathful deity.
Maybe they just don't care about keeping things tidy before eating their next victim?
The inside of the temple is surprisingly cozy, but he doesn't have time to think about it. You, the ancient dragon, make your entrance—or rather, you wander in, yawning, and blink at him like you've just woken up from a really long nap.
“Hey… uh, are you the dragon god?” Trey asks, clutching the bundle of supplies he'd brought along.
You stretch, wings fluttering lazily behind you, before giving him a confused look. "Who else would I be? The village’s lost pet?"
Trey blinks. This is not what he was expecting. He was ready for a quick, brutal end. Maybe some fire and brimstone. Not... this.
“Right.” He clears his throat. “I’m Trey, from the village. They sent me as the sacrifice.”
You squint at him like he's just told you the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard. "Sacrifice? They still do that? I haven’t asked for a sacrifice in… decades. I was actually happy to not have my nap interrupted by scared humans. I was going to help with the crisis anyway."
Now it’s Trey's turn to stare. “You… don’t want the sacrifice?”
"Nope." You shrug, completely nonchalant. "You can go back to the village if you want. Or, if you're looking for a change of scenery, the village on the other side of the mountain is kinda nice."
Trey lets out a small sigh, but it’s not exactly relief. “I… can’t. If I go back, they'll think the offering was rejected. My siblings could suffer for it."
You pause, then nod thoughtfully. "Ah, yeah, human politics." You click your tongue. "I hate when that happens. Well, just so you know, the past sacrifices? Yeah, they all ended up in the village on the other side of the mountain."
Trey’s jaw drops. "Wait… what?"
"Yeah." You nod sagely. "They all thought the same thing—'Oh no, the dragon’s gonna eat me'—but I just sent them over there.”
He blinks at you again, trying to absorb all of this information. "So… you don’t actually…?"
"Eat people?" you finish for him, giving him a strange look. "No. That’s gross. Why would I do that?"
Trey's lips twitch upward. A beat of silence passes before Trey clears his throat again. "Mind if I stay, then? I can cook, clean, and—"
You give him a sideways glance, and your eyes light up. "Wait. You cook?"
"Yeah," Trey says, still trying to grasp that he’s negotiating his survival with a dragon.
A slow grin spreads across your face. "Well then, you’re hired. Welcome to dragon duty."
Trey’s not sure whether to laugh or cry at how anticlimactic this has all turned out. He’d prepared himself for noble sacrifice, but instead, he’s somehow signed up for dragon housekeeping duty. With a deep breath, he puts on a smile. "So, uh, what do you want for dinner?"
From that moment on, life with you is… surprisingly comfortable. Trey, ever practical, makes himself useful.
He handles things with the same calm practicality he’d use back in the village, except now, there’s a giant, sometimes snarky dragon looming over him as he goes about his tasks.
He spends his days cooking, tending to the temple’s neglected gardens, and even baking pastries—though you still don’t believe him when he says there’s no oyster sauce in his sweets.
“You’re pulling my tail,” you mutter, eyeing the perfectly innocent-looking cake Trey’s set out in front of you. “I can taste something weird in it.”
Trey just smiles. “Oyster sauce. Definitely.”
You huff, giving up on trying to figure him out, and focus on enjoying your meals and new company instead.
One evening, after a particularly good dinner (with no discernible oyster flavor, much to your disappointment), you glance at Trey lounging by the fireplace. He's been here for a while now, and you find that you're quite enjoying his company. In fact, you're enjoying it a little too much.
"So, you’re not as terrifying as the stories make you out to be," Trey comments one day, setting down a plate of food.
You snort, flipping lazily on your side. "Thanks, I guess. Humans are always so dramatic."
"And the drought?" Trey asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Taken care of," you reply with a smug smile. "Already brought in the rains.”
He nods and settles down next to you, holding a book from the library that you never bothered to visit.
Well, it's now or never. “So,” you begin, almost casually, “I’ve decided.”
“Decided what?” Trey looks up from the book he’s reading.
“That you’ll be my mate.”
He nearly drops the book. “Your... what?”
“My mate.” You stretch your wings, trying to look as imposing as possible—though you’re pretty sure Trey isn’t intimidated by you anymore. “You’re the first human who actually stuck around. And you can cook. That’s mate material.”
Trey is, understandably, at a loss for words. “…You’re serious?”
“Completely.” You flash him that grin again, all teeth and playful confidence. “Unless you’ve got a better offer somewhere else?”
Trey pinches the bridge of his nose, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays him. “No, I think I’ll stick around.”
And just like that, Trey Clover—the supposed human sacrifice—finds himself the mate of a centuries-old dragon. Maybe this wasn’t the fate he expected, but all things considered… it could be worse.
At least the dragon likes his cooking.
Masterlist
#Trey clover x reader#trey x reader#trey clover#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#trey x you#trey clover x you
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oh, you didn't know?
“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”
Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 1.6k
Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.
-
Steve has never had the best timing.
When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died.
There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face.
Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”
“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over.
“Oh my god–”
“He… He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”
Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped.
Well fuck.
“Yes…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”
You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”
The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit.
He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not.
Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.
So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side.
Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again.
You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out.
After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open.
Steve’s plan was foolproof.
Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend.
However, Steve really should’ve known better.
His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door.
There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.
“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him.
You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”
“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.
“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”
“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”
There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life.
At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place.
A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in.
Then, late January, your birthday came along.
This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.
You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake.
Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly.
Except that isn’t what happened.
What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in.
“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face.
Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”
You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him.
Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck.
He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something.
He’s miserable.
Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks.
You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts.
The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”
Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”
He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind.
“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear.
“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”
This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him.
“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”
Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”
At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”
“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”
“Oh, you didn’t know?”
“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”
You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just… I assumed you meant our relationship?”
Steve blinks. “You… You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”
“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along.
God, he is so stupidly in love with you.
He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist.
The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of.
Then, a thought occurs to Steve.
“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”
“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”
Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.
And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss.
Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time.
-
⌑ writing masterlist
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x fem#stranger things#m's writing#fluff#valentines day#enjoyyyyyy <3#mans just wants a gf#bless him
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Sharing is Caring (I)
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: A mission has both Miguel and you sharing a room… what could possibly go wrong?
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. ‘There’s only one bed’ trope. Dry humping. Fangs. Wet dreams. Love bites. Miguel in denial of his lust for the reader, but secretly touch starved.
You glanced at the watch on your wrist, suppressing a yawn.
Three in the morning had rolled around, and there were still no signs of the anomaly. Miguel O’Hara stood by the hotel window, gazing into the distance through narrowed and ever-watchful crimson eyes.
He was also not showing any signs of stopping for the night, but you were already far too sleep deprived to go on.
“Miguel…” you said miserably, sinking into the bouncy matress. “We should get some rest. We’ve been at this for hours…”
His face hardened slightly. “Get some rest, then. I’m staying up.”
Impossible man.
He was as relentless as he was stubborn. Once he had his mind set on something, there wasn’t much one could do to talk him out of it. He always had to have his way.
“We have sensors scattered all around the perimeter,” you said, feeling every last ounce of patience leave your body. “Any movement and we’ll be on it.”
This time he turned his head to you. “Sleep,” he grumbled, positioning himself closer to the windowsill, but just out of range of the raindrops that began to fall hard outside.
You exhaled in defeat. “Suit yourself.”
The bed squeaked as you moved to find a comfortable spot, eagerly flopping onto your back, facing the bland ceiling of the poorly lit room.
“The bed’s really comfy,” you said with a sigh of sheer relief, feeling the soft material dig into your sore muscles pleasingly. “You’re missing out.”
“The bed’s too small,” he said simply.
Right.
Trust Miguel O’Hara to find flaws in anything whenever it's convenient.
"Don’t be ridiculous," you scoffed, earning an intense glare from him. “We can totally fit here.”
“Uncomfortably, yes.”
You bit the inside or your cheek to keep yourself from mumbling a snarky reply, deciding not to push it and dive into a never-ending argument. You knew better than to do that with him.
Miguel suffered from chronic last word syndrome.
You exhaled noisily, as you pulled the soft sheet up to your shoulder before flipping onto your side to face the wall, ready for a much well deserved break from this boring mission.
Thankfully, the pouring rain outside presented itself perfectly, lulling you into a state of relaxation, and you felt your eyelids heavy as you drifted into sleep.
You weren't sure what time you awoke, but the room was now engulfed in darkness, with only the moonlight casting a dim light through the window.
The bed was dipped lightly behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder to find Miguel sleeping on his side. He had retracted his digital suit and you were now faced with his broad bare back.
You had never been in such close proximity with him, let alone in this state of nakedness, which had your stomach do a sudden flip. But both of you were beyond tired, so you told yourself to go back to sleep.
But then you heard it.
A soft grunt coming from him made you look over again. The muscles in his back twitched lightly with each breath. But something was off. his breathing was harsh and erratic, as if he was in a state is distress.
Another low and throaty moan was heard.
Was he having a nightmare?
He suddenly flipped onto his back and you were met with his bare chest, covered midway by the flimsy sheet you both shared. His face was twisted into a light frown, eyed firmly shut, but mouth parted, revealing his protruding fangs.
That was odd... Miguel wouldn't bare his fangs lightly unless the occasion called for it during missions.
But then your eyes traveled down his body to find a tent rising in his lower half, and your eyes nearly bulged out.
Miguel O'Hara's cock was pressing against the fabric proud and erect. The faint lighting was enough for you to make out the growing wet stain. From time to time, his hips would buck instinctively, causing a few beads of precum to seep through.
Oh.
You had nearly forgotten Miguel wore nothing under his suit.
Your mouth went suddenly very dry at the realisation that Miguel was actually having a wet dream.
Maybe you were the one dreaming, because the alternative just felt too much to be true. Witnessing the Miguel O'Hara in such a vulnerable and intimate position was not something you had on your bucket list, for sure.
Did you find him attractive? Yes. Would you gladly fuck all that grumpiness out of him if given the chance? Definitely.
So now you were torn on what to do. Should you wake him up? Should you just try to ignore the pant and grunts that kept spilling from his mouth? Should you also ignore the way your clit was now pulsing?
But the answer came with him moaning your name.
Your eyes widened and you gasped, immediately flinching away from him, turning to face the wall, heart drumming fast and in unison with your clit.
Before you could fully process the initial shock, a second one quickly followed as you felt him shift next to you to swing a strong arm over your waist. The top half of your suit had ridden upwards from all the commotion, and goosebumps immediately spread across the point of contact between him and you.
"Miguel..." you whispered, too afraid to make a sudden move.
He hummed softly, his large hand pressed flat against your tummy, as he pulled you closer into him, his breath hitting a sensitive spot just below your ear. But what truly made you jolt against him was when his cock came into contact with your ass.
At this point, you knew you had to brace yourself somehow, because you were too far gone to fight the overwhelming wave of pleasure that washed over you. It hit you slowly at first, and then all at once, as he slowly jerked his hips into you.
You were essentially trapped between his large body and the wall, leaving you with no choice but to press your hand against the latter, trying to steady yourself as he picked up the pace.
He mumbled your name under his laboured breath once again, rubbing his cock harder against you, the unmistakable spill of precum now coating your skin.
Your eyes were fixed on your fingers that soon curled into a fist against the wall from the jaw-dropping sensation, and you couldn't stop yourself from undulating your body to match his.
"Miguel..." you groaned in a miserable attempt at waking him up.
His hand slid up and below your covered breasts, his thumb dipping inside the tight fabric of your suit.
You immediately clenched around nothing, and felt your own wetness drip into your underwear.
There was only so much one could take. The voice of reason inside you was telling you to put an end to this right away, but you were not one to listen to reason, especially when you had Miguel O'hara humping you desperately.
His hand slid down to the hem of the bottom half of your suit and began to tug at it.
That was enough to snap you from the haze of lust. "Miguel!"
The reaction was immediate and you found yourself quickly being flipped onto your back and pressed firmly into the mattress, arms pinned above your head, as a breathless Miguel positioned himself on top of you, baring his fangs.
"Miguel... it's me," you said, eyed meeting his crimson ones. "You were..." your voice immediately died down as you felt the weight of the underside of his cock pressed firmly against your covered clit.
The grip on your wrists loosened and his eyes narrowed as confusion settled on his face. "What..."
You were trying your best to ignore his heavy cock, but failed miserably with a whimper, eyes snapping shut and your back arching reflexively.
Miguel grunted from the friction, and you felt him press further into you. "What are you doing?"
With a roll of your hips, you moaned. "Me? You were having a wet dream about me and dry humping me..."
His face drew near yours. "Nonsense."
"It's true..." you whispered shakily, yearning for more.
He moaned again, his balance faltering momentarily, head dropping next to your face. "I would never think of you that way."
You weren't entirely sure why he was now saying this, while still firmly pressed against you.
"Why not?"
He grazed his fangs along your neck. "You're too annoying."
"Then how do you explain that hard cock?"
"Biology," he groaned, hips jerking slowly.
Somehow, his refusal to accept his lust for you only served to fuel yours for him. His subconscious had dragged him earlier into a wet dream about you, and he wouldn't never be able to square this circle.
"So we should stop," you teased, dragging your soaked suit along his cock.
He stilled you with one hand, teasing your skin with his fangs once more. "Yes."
"Then stop."
"Hmm."
His lips latched on to your pulse point, sucking lightly, as one hand beside your head held his weight above you, and the other snaking in between your bodies.
"Let me just feel it... with nothing in the way," he grumbled after tearing away from your skin, and probably marking you with a hickey.
"Why?" you moaned, feeling your clit throbbing uncontrollably. "I'm too annoying."
He pulled the fabric down at once, visibly impatient. "Too annoying."
And when you felt his cock settle between your soaked folds, you jerked with a gasp. Miguel shuddered and glanced down along the length of your body. You followed his motion and were presented with the most alluring sight ever.
His cock lay neatly settled against your, strings of precum drooling from the tip and onto your skin, letting you know his body craved more.
"We should stop now," he said with a feral grunt rumbling from his throat.
You began to roll your hips to have your clit slide effortlessly along his cock, wet sounds filling the room. "You don't want to."
The way he snapped into you next almost had the tip at your entrance, earning a gasp from you.
"I do."
"Then why don't you?" you pouted, caressing his face and having him lean into your touch.
"Biology."
And as he closed the remaining distance with a searing kiss, his tip slipped past without much obstacle as your wetness mixed with his made it way easier. You felt the air in your lungs being crushed by the sudden stretch and you immediately parted your lips from his to let out a strained groan.
He was too thick.
"Just the tip, then," you panted against his lips.
He remained still inside you. "You can take more than that."
Probably, but all the teasing and unintentional foreplay had dragged you so close to the edge you feared you might combust before he buried himself balls deep.
Miguel proceeded to plant persuasive pecks along your jawline and down to your neck. "You can bite down on my shoulder, if it helps."
Your eyes widened at the proposal, and you nearly jerked into him, the promise of struggling to take all of him being way too alluring.
"Okay... but I'm too close..."
"I know."
He positioned himself and your lips brushed against his shoulder, before sinking your teeth into the flesh, and that was enough to signal him to slide in deeper.
You tried to easy the pressure on his skin, but the stretch was too overwhelming and he next thing you knew, your fingers were clawing at his back.
"Stop clenching...." he moaned and you detected despair in his voice.
You would if you could, but the friction was too good to turn down.
He growled in your ear, one hand gripping your knee to further spread you open for him. “Almost there, cariño..."
And just as you were finally beginning to easy your grip around him to fully accommodate him, the obnoxious sound of an alarm flared across the room, lighting up your travel watches.
Fuck...
The fucking anomaly...
Part 2
Masterlist
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x you#miguel ohara smut#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#miguel ohara x reader#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x reader
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❝ AND I SIMPLY BLEND IN WITH THE WALLPAPER ❞ PART 2
✧ summary: you're finally over the breakup and back in a new relationship with someone you now can't picture living without. how do you handle bumping into your ex after not seeing him since that party? ✧ cw: f!reader, college au, mild profanity, some angst for my boy satoru, also satoru being a bad bf, pining, heavy regret, comfort, mention of previous issues/trauma, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 3.3k
part 1 - part 2
Satoru: happy birthday! hope you have a nice day
You were surprised to say the least, staring blankly at your phone screen. It had been months since you’d seen him, let alone heard anything from him. The last text message that had been sent between the two of you had been a week after your breakup, when he told you there was still a box of your stuff left in his dorm.
And now you were staring at the first time he’d even acknowledged you’re existence since then — and pure relief filled you as it dawned on you there wasn’t an ounce of hurt in you.
After that dreaded party, you’d made up your mind to finally move on. Not let the idea of him plague you anymore — and seeing those words across your screen made you realise you had finally reached that point. Now you were only thankful for the experience that had been Satoru Gojo, but it was nothing but a pleasant memory. Not painful, not bitter, not torturous. Just nice.
“Ready to go?” A voice snapped you back to reality, looking up at your boyfriend. Your new saving grace, who he had come into your life when you needed it the most, like the universe had finally decided you had suffered enough and now it was your turn to be happy again.
For a while, you’d suspected men like him didn’t really exist, because he had been so incredibly patient, lenient when needed. Just all around a good person, which was exactly what you deserved.
Lifting from your seat, you typed a quick ‘thank you :)’, feeling content that you could now answer him without anxiety filling every fibre of your being. “Yeah, let’s go,” you smiled before hooking your arm with his.
You simply sunk into his body, letting your head rest on his shoulder as his arm was safely secured around your waist in a tender grip, standing in the very front of the line while you waited to be seated.
Lifting your head, your eyes traveled your boyfriend’s face with a loving gaze, a look that had basically become a default setting whenever you had the chance to admire him. “Thank you again,” you whispered.
His arm tightened a little around you. “Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take you out for dinner on your birthday,” he spoke so proudly before placing a kiss on your forehead.
“Still, I think a thank you is in order,” you giggled. Carefully wiggling in his grip, you turned around to grab your lipgloss from your purse when you accidentally nudged your elbow straight into the back of the person standing behind you. “Oh, I’m so sorry- Satoru?”
Eyes falling on a familiar figure, you’d recognise that white hair and blue orbs anywhere. It was none other than your ex-boyfriend staring right back at you. Softly, your name dropped from his lips in a way you hadn’t heard from him say in a very long time.
Restraint was sorely forgotten at the sight of you glowing with a sense of peace, letting his eyes take in how you were styled in a beautiful form fitting dress of green satin, half your hair tied back with a cute bow
“Hi,” you said cheerfully, causing him to close his gaping jaw and swallow the lump in his throat.
“Hey,” he answered in a low voice, before he let his attention shift to the vaguely familiar man at your side, one arm on your waist, the other tucked into the pockets of his beige pants.
“Oh, sorry. This is my boyfriend,” your voice was dripping with devotion as you placed one hand on his chest, “you know Kento, right?”
To say Satoru knew Kento was a stretch, but he wasn’t completely unacquainted with him — he’d seen him around campus and at a few parties. Satoru had always thought him to be too serious, never smiling, always walking with strict determination of getting somewhere. But right now he was flashing him a friendly smile as he pulled his hand from the pocket and had it hover in the air between them.
Shaking out of his thoughts, he politely accepted the gesture — not surprised by the firm and respectable handshake. “Kento Nanami, it’s a pleasure.”
“Satoru Gojo,” he answered simply, lips drawing into a thin line. Kento then turned to the individual at his side, causing an embarrassed flush to paint his cheeks, because the sight of you had him forget his girlfriend for a hot second.
“Pleasure,” he smiled at her after they had introduced themselves to each other.
So the rumours were true. No one had told him directly, because the topic of you was quickly dropped any time he entered a room, but the whispers of your new boyfriend had reached him eventually.
Once when he was sat in the library, his ears had perked up when two girls sitting behind him had mentioned your name, talking about the new guy you were seeing. They’d talked of a handsome and chivalrous man, who seemed to have all the women on campus charmed because he appeared to be the perfect gentleman. And you’d been the lucky girl to finally be able to secure him.
But when he’d heard the descriptions of your new beau — stoic, always alone and grumpy, oh-so-serious business major Kento Nanami, was not the person he pictured.
He probably thought he was being slick, but you saw through it. Despite everything that had gone down between you, there was no denying you still knew Satoru, and the look in his eyes when he observed Kento could definitely have been kinder. And with the heavy glare from Satoru, the encounter had turned strangely uncomfortable. Because you weren’t the only one who’s picked up in his tense behaviour. His girlfriend saw it too.
You knew you couldn’t let the silence hang over you any longer. “So is there a special occasion?” You asked sweetly, looking between them.
“Just- ahem, just a much needed date night,” his girlfriend answered, trying her best to hide how her voice came out strained once she opened her mouth.
“That’s nice! It’s good you take the time to do those sorts of things.”
You were so genuine when you talked, and that was all thanks to Kento. Because of his unwavering and supportive presence, you were able to talk to the both of them without a single drop of resentment.
The moment he had heard the name of your ex-boyfriend slip out of your lips, he’d acted on pure instinct, his grip on you tightening — not in a possessive way. No, he just wanted to make sure you were okay, knowing your entire history.
However, the road to knowing your history had been a long one, because the insecurities and trust issues had run a lot deeper than you had anticipated. So Kento had to put in a lot of work in order to get you to creak open that door of trust.
You didn’t know why you waited so long to expose your vulnerability to him. Maybe you just waited for him to bail on you if you proved to be too closed off — too difficult. That eventually he’d grow tired of the work it took to prove himself to you and you’d spare yourself the heartbreak by pushing him away. Yet, he stayed.
If there was an individual to be patience personified, it would be Kento Nanami. He responded to every request of “I’m not ready yet” and “it’s just too much” with a warm smile and a nod before he continued to keep you company.
And he had never once complained. Not a single grunt of frustration, not a twitch in his eye as you once again shut down his attempt of getting close, never rolling his eyes at you. He simply stayed by your side, which eventually was enough for you to let your walls down — and with the walls, everything else came tumbling out as well.
One late evening, after he’d cooked you a nice dinner just because, you’d decided it was finally time to tell him about Satoru and how that ended. And once you twisted open the jar to your life, everything came spewing out.
Every detail about your relationship with Satoru, the breakup and the party. That quickly snowballed into your troubles with family, friends, work, studies, life — you name it. Standing in front of him, you revealed things about yourself you’d only ever told one person before, Satoru. And everything came out in the form of loud and uncontrollable sobs.
You’d been so scared, that he’d deem it all too much and turn his back on you. But he hadn’t even hesitated to pull you into his strong arms and simply hold you. For as long as you needed it, he stroked your hair and whispered small affirmations into your ear the entire night until you fell asleep in his embrace.
When you’d woken up the next morning, his arms were still around you — shielding you from all potential pain to come your way. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe.
And that’s when you knew.
All of the weariness that had held you back for so long had evaporated into thin air, everything suddenly making sense again as it all fell into place. It was strange, knowing that the two of you had crossed paths on so many occasions but never even acknowledged each other. It felt like wasted time, because you found yourself thinking it should have been him all along.
Kento seemed to be everything Satoru wasn’t, matching your energy in a way Satoru never did. At least now, all the pain you’d been through felt worth it because it had led you straight into the life of your current boyfriend.
So when you were suddenly faced with your ex again, the very one that shattered your heart, Kento instinctively had to know you were doing alright. And if not, he was going to just smoothly shift the conversation away so you’d be able to retreat from the situation to make sure you were anything but uneasy.
You’d looked at Kento when his arm had tensed around your middle, your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. Nothing about the encounter caused any discomfort, all due to him.
“And you? What brings you here?” She asked.
“It’s your birthday,” it slipped out of Satoru before you had the chance to answer, soft eyes locked on you.
“Yeah,” you only smiled. “Kento wanted to take me out,” turning to gaze at him again, “I just couldn’t turn down his offer.”
Again, Satoru’s traitorous eyes drifted where the shouldn’t, flicking towards Kento’s hand that was still on your waist. It resulted in a new feeling arising in him; jealousy. It had him act a bit rashly, a sharp movement to intertwine his hand with his girlfriend’s. Had he done it to draw out a reaction from you? He wasn’t sure, but if that were the case, he failed miserably. It didn’t even seem like you noticed it at all.
“Only the best for you,” Kento had said, mostly for your ears exclusively. But Satoru had heard his little comment and felt a sting go through his body, amplified by the display of how he seemed to be in pure awe of you.
There was no denying it. The way Kento looked at you was out of pure love, unbothered by your surroundings. Not just in his eyes though, but he wore his dedication to you on his sleeve. There was no doubt that he was perfectly happy, that he found himself where he was meant to be.
“Mr. Nanami, your table is ready,” the waiter came over.
“It was great seeing you again,” you smiled, first looking at his girlfriend before turning to look at Satoru. He knew it wasn’t your intention, because your eyes were only looking at him with kindness — but he felt as if your gaze was burning into his soul. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Nice meeting you both,” Kento begged farewell, before guiding you in front of him with his hand resting on the small of your back.
They say you don’t realise what you have until it’s gone. Well, Satoru had only an idea of what he had lost once it was gone. It wasn’t until he now saw someone else enjoying your love he actually realised what he had foolishly given up. He also knew that was completely and utterly selfish of him.
It wasn’t until a few weeks ago, images of you had started to reappear in his head. At first it was only in small flashes, to which he didn’t think twice about. But it quickly got worse, when he found himself sharing a moment with his girlfriend and a suffocating thought clogged his mind, telling him this was all wrong. It should have been you.
Time moved in slow motion, eyes following your every step towards your table. He was only brought back to reality when he felt his girlfriend pull her hand out of his before crossing them over her chest.
“You could at least try and pretend not to be obsessed,” she muttered.
“What do you mean?” Satoru said shyly, trying to pretend like he didn’t know what she was hinting at. But he knew he wasn’t fooling her. He wasn’t exactly subtle.
“I’m not an idiot.” When he finally turned his attention from you, he felt terrible because a pair of glossy eyes was staring up at him. “And you’ve always been a terrible liar.”
When he was about to come with another dumb excuse, they were approached by their waiter. “Mr. Gojo? Let me lead you to your table.” She blinked away her tears and put on a forced smile.
Walking to their table, Satoru couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of you one more time — he instantly wished he hadn’t. He was hoping to find you looking back at him with the same longing stare he gave you but you didn’t.
You were solemnly focused on Kento who was sitting across from you. As far as you were concerned, there wasn’t another person in the room. And he was returning your loving stare with just as much devotion. If not more.
“You sure you’re alright?” Kento asked, reaching across the table to grab your hand.
You nodded. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I could imagine it was hard seeing him again.”
You took a deep breath, the scene of Kento staring back at you with so much concern having a relaxing affect on you. True serenity filled your body leading you to simply shake your head no at him. “No. No, it wasn’t.” He squinted his eyes at you. “He can’t hurt me anymore. Having you in my life has made sure of that.”
Contentment had the corner of his lips tug upwards in a satisfied smile. “You give me too much credit, darling.”
“No, don’t think so,” you said playfully. “If anything, I don’t give you enough credit.” A lighthearted scoff escaped him.
“Is that so?”
“Oh, most certainly. They write books about men like you, y’know? Dashing, charming, handsome.”
“You flatter me,” he sighed as he leaned back in his chair again, the ghost of a smile still painting his face as a slightest blush bloomed on his cheeks. His eyes met yours again. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
From across the restaurant, Satoru kept waiting for stolen glances to come his way but they never arrived. He was hoping that the unspoken connection you used to have would come in clutch one last time, even if it was just to have your eyes on him for a second.
But you never gave him what he wanted.
He spent the dinner indulged in dry small talk with his girlfriend. The conversation that once flowed so smoothly, had grown stale with boredom and neither of them knew how to fix it. She especially struggled when she constantly caught him looking past her to spot you deep in chatter with Kento.
For them, the evening passed by so slowly, unable to meet each other’s eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. Satoru’s demeanour quickly changed when it appeared your evening was over, his posture straightening when you and Kento got up from your seats. He paid close attention when Kento pulled your jacket over your shoulders, before leaning in to whisper something in your that had you giggle while your cheeks turned red.
Just as you were about to exit, and just before Satoru was about to lose the single splinter of hope he had left, you did in fact look in their direction. You said a few words to Kento before turning away from him and coming over to their table.
Curiosity filled Satoru’s body, eager eyes glued on you. For every step you came closer, his heart started to beat faster. It was like the light of the end of the tunnel came closer and closer but it was quickly put out when you put a hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder, not really acknowledging him in particular.
“I’m sorry to disturb,” you breathed nervously as you looked down at her. “I just feel like I owe you an apology.”
She instantly pinched her eyebrows together. “An apology?”
Truthfully, she was beyond confused by the fact that you approached her. Satoru’s not-so-subtle glances in your direction had been torturing her all evening, and she was a little scared you’d returned them when she couldn’t see.
Judging how she saw you and your new boyfriend alone, she would never have thought you had any bad intentions — but based on the last time she’d seen you, when you were bawling your eyes out alone at a party and all the stories she’d been told about how broken you were, it wasn’t without reason she was worried.
But your focus was on her.
“Yes,” you chuckled softly. “The last time we met I was unnecessarily cold. I had a bad evening, and I was a little harsh in the way I talked to you. I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” she answered, blinking away the befuddlement she felt. “That’s alright. There’s no need to apologise,” she returned your genuine smile.
“Either way. I could have been a little more mellow.” With sincerity, she made sure you had nothing to worry about with short and sweet confirmations. “Well, enjoy the rest of your evening.” You gave her shoulder one last squeeze and a small wave to Satoru.
His voice had failed him, no sound coming out when he wanted to wish you goodbye. He wasn’t in control when he again let his eyes linger as you cutely made your way back to your boyfriend, who held his hand out for you to grab. Once your hands connected, he smoothly pulled you close to him and placed a small peck on your temple. It almost seemed like the two of you were physically attached to each other when you left the restaurant, never even thinking of looking back.
What happened?
He knew he had screwed up majorly — he didn’t understand how he had ever thought this was how it supposed to be? What the hell had come over him when he’d broken up with you? And how had he been so wrapped up in his new girlfriend, when he had to know somewhere inside him it wasn’t real — not like it was with you?
Of course he felt bad. His girlfriend was a good person through and through. And at one point he had been under the impression that they were happy, but she had one flaw that crept up on him after a while — she wasn’t you.
Satoru would probably hate himself forever for letting you go.
tags @sad-darksoul, @luvsymai, @snwvie, @call-memissbrightside
a/n for anyone expecting and hoping suguru, i am sorry :( i decided to go the comfort route instead of the scandal route, because if we’re honest, it’s what reader deserves… not to mention that i’m doing satoru extremely dirty in this one and it would be cruel to have reader get with suguru on top of that also, it's nanami's birthday so it's fitting <3
reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated plagiarism not authorized
#— ଓ my creative corner#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen oneshot#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk imagine#jjk imagines#jjk oneshot#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#kento nanami#nanami kento#kento nanami x reader#satoru#gojo#kento#nanami#jjk saturo gojo#jjk kento nanami#jjk gojo#jjk nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu kaisen gojo#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#kento x reader#nanami x reader
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I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.
I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.
But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.
This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.
I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.
How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.
I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.
If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.
I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.
But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.
So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.
But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.
They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.
These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.
Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.
No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.
But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:
I am a Jew.
Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.
I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.
Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!
Then they sent me this:
I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.
Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.
For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.
But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.
I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.
I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.
And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.
But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?
There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.
But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.
So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.
I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.
I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.
I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.
But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.
When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.
My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.
I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.
Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!
EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍
Source Reading
The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications
Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn
Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha
I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg
The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes
Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board
There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart
The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit
“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi
When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss
Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller
Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer
What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins
The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore
Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman
The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman
How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner
This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press
Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss
#palestine#israel hamas war#israel hamas conflict#hamas#on war#essay writing#personal essay#rant post#stop terrorism#israel#writing#palestinian lives matter#jewish lives matter#jewish and proud#jewish identity#jewish muslim solidarity#on grief#on religion#antisemitism#anti zionisim#purim 2024#chag purim sameach#judaism#israeli palestinian conflict#am yisrael chai#kvetching#jumblr#the post that turned my blog into an anti-antisemitism blog
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abby punishes you — dacraphylia, degradation, overstim +daddy terming🥰 (and aftercare)
゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤abby’s feeling carnal tonight. you’d been ovulating and it’s like she can tell, she sees how your breasts swell slightly, you’re wetter without her touching you. It’s like it wakes something in her as well, a deep desire to pull you close and feel you, really feel you. and fuck all she can think about is you in a pretty sundress, rucked up over your hips and her filling you until you’re leaking and -
“shit, honey, need you,” she groans as you come to straddle her, “come sit on my cock yeah?” abby whines, gripping your hips. she wants to wait, wants to let you take it slow but god she’s so fucking desperate. she can’t help lining you up - “need to fuck you,” she groans, her hips bucking as she brings you down on her strap. you yelp and lean forward to grip her shoulders, whining about the stretch.
“m’sorry baby, fuck— i wanna be gentle I jus’ need to fuck you. need to fill you up” she groans when you wind your hips, the strap pressing against her clit, she has to swallow hard and hold you still for a moment to stop herself from cumming, “baby hold on,” she whimpers, but you can hear the desperation veiled in abby’s breath so despite her weak efforts against it, you start to rock yourself on her, bounce and wind your hips until she’s whining, her hips bucking up, spurting some cum into you, “shit - baby, slow down m’gonna cum,” she heaves and your mouth gapes at the statement, hearing her so desperate for you — it makes you ride her harder, leaning over to kiss her as her hands squeeze your ass and then before she can help it, her boxers are wet with her cum.
she’s fucking pissed, she hates having an orgasm before you do and “you fucking know the rules,” abby groans and turns you over, “nasty little slut,” she tuts, hiking your legs up her shoulders, “you know what has to happen right baby?” you shake your head vigorously and abby smacks your cheek, her hips starting up a rough rhythm
“words,” she commands, her eyes darkening, you can see how much you’d upset her and yet there was a deep lust there, she wanted to punish you more than she cared about you actually breaking the rules. “fuck, m’sorry abby, just wanted to feel you,” you relent
abby smacks you again, “not my fucking name sweetheart,”
“m’sorry daddy!” you whine, your arms going to hold on to hers as she bucks and snaps her hips against you deep and slow, teasing you, the tip of her ridged strap rubbing on your gspot, she slows brutally groaning when you whine “no daddy please, please I’m sorry — fuck please not—“
abby pulls your wand from her drawer “shut the fuck up,” she leans over you, slapping and then puckering your cheeks “you know the fucking rules, and you broke them because you’re a dumb, desperate little slut.” she kissed your mouth
“so now you suffer the consequences,” she stills inside you and turns the wand on, pressing it to your clit and you swallow, already ready to cum, “please daddy,” you whimper, tears starting to pool in your eyes, “no, you cannot cum,” she sighs, watching how her strap disappears into your cunt, a wet creamy band forming around the base. “you broke daddy’s rules so now she has to punish you,” she cooes, a hand coming to your throat. her hips bucking slow.
“oh christ, please,” you know better than to try and move before she ties you up and ignores you completely. “no, you wanted to be my little cum dump, n now you have to wait for it honey,” she moans, removing the wand and smacking your clit until you’re crying. “aw there’s my girl. so pathetic you’re fucking crying for it,” she sighs, her hips faltering at the sight of your tears, she can feel herself getting wetter and now she might let herself cum just to spite you.
“daddy, m’sorry — please please, shit! fuck please,” you beg and abby turns the the vibrator up one, pressing herself deep and stilling. “no god please daddy m’gonna cum I can’t,”
“yes you can, fucking hold it,” she grins when your eyes scrunch up and your mouth gapes, abby absent mindedly fills it with her fingers making you gag on them, “shit, look at you,” she grunts, “so pretty gagging on me, my dick filling your cunt,” you whine, your legs beginning to tremor and when abs starts to move again, her tip rubbing up against your gspot you yelp and start to spurt your cum onto abby as you cry, “fuck, m’sorry, sorry daddy — please please,” you cry and abby laughs, “shit, dumb little cunt so fuckin desperate you can’t even hold it,” she heaves, her chest tightening at the sight of you quivering, your pussy leaking around her strap.
“my sweet little angel, gonna make you cum until it hurts,” she cooes, circling your cunt with the wand and bucks harder and faster into you. “oh god, please slow down,” you yell, your nails scratching down abby’s back. and fuck, the feeling has her bucking into you harder, her own orgasm overtaking her as she smacks your clit until she’s filling you with cum.
you try this time to squirm away from her but she’s so strong. she manages to hold you down, pressing down over you and keeping the wand vibrating there, “I can’t I can’t,” you gasp, whimpering and sobbing into her neck, “m’sorry daddy,”
“shh, it’s okay honey, that’s okay — be good for me, just cum for me one more time, yeah?”
“no please daddy,” you whine, tears a river down your cheeks
“it’s okay sweetheart, be really dumb for me like i know you can and just cum, one more time for me,” you can’t help but scream, abby has to cover your mouth with her hand and immediately stops the want, pulling out slow and taking a moment to admire the cum from drips from you, “so perfect baby, did such a good job for me,” she moans.
abby lays beside you and pulls you in close, kissing your forehead, “you did so fucking well baby,” she kissed your eyelids, wiping your remaining tears. “such a good girl, took the punishment so well,” she cooes,” rubbing your back and arms. “you’re my good girl you know that yeah?” she kisses your cheek. her chest tightening when you don’t respond.
“honey did I hurt you?” she asks gently, her hand on your cheek until she hears your snore softly,
“nuh-uh baby,” she kisses you awake, “need to know you’re okay,”
“I’m okay my love,” you whisper, cuddling into your chest, “you did perfect,” you kiss her cheek and Abby relaxes,
“you’re so good for me, you know that yeah?” you nod your head and abs starts to get up for a cloth to clean you with but she’s pulled closer by your right grip. “just a little longer,” you moan, and she relaxes into you, letting you cuddle into her chest.
tags: @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz
#lesbian#abby tlou smut#lesbian smut#abby tlou#abby anderson smut#nsft lesbian#Abby x reader smut#Abby smut#abby tlou x reader#abby tlou x reader smut
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Death Wish 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Bucky Barnes
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you're desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Photo Inspo
Adrenaline buzzes in your ears and sears through your veins. You shouldn’t be here. Yet this place is no more treacherous than your home. Thing’s can’t get much worse so you may as well try to make them better.
Or maybe you’re so desperate for it to end, that you don’t care how.
You stand before the two men in their dark suits. They mutter as if you can’t hear them, “Warren’s girl.”
“One of them,” the other intones.
“Boss said not to bother.”
You sway, your hands twined up behind your back. You expect to be turned away but you’re not ready for it. You chew the tip of your tongue.
“I can wait,” you say.
The don’t acknowledge you. They turn to block you out with their shoulders and lower their voices. One glances over his shoulder at you, Walker? Or something.
“Your daddy send you?” He asks.
You shake your head. You should probably lie but you’re no good at that. The throbbing in your swollen lip assures you of that.
“So why should we let you in to see the boss? You out here at midnight looking like a tramp,” he challenges as he faces you again.
“Hey, she looks like she’s had it bad enough. Don’t be a dick,” the other man reproaches. “Look, sweetheart,” he steps forward. “Man’s busy. With important business. Whatever you’re looking for, ask your daddy.”
You could sob. Your father has no idea you’re there. If he did... if he knew why...
Your shoulders slump and you hang your head in defeat. Why did you think this would work? It’s a fantasy. That same escapist wish you make every night when you cry yourself to sleep.
You close your eyes and see Adrienne’s teary-eyes and Kitty’s helpless expression. You can’t let your sisters down. You can’t stand to see them suffer any longer. You can take it all, but it’s seeing him raise his hand to them that guts you.
“I need to see him,” you raise your head. “I can wait.”
You say you can but if your father realises you’re gone, if he finds out where you’ve gone, or even manages to guess why...
Walker sighs. He elbows the other man. “Go tell him so can come back and tell her to scram on his orders.”
The other man returns a dark look but goes inside. You hug yourself and shiver in the night air. You have only your quarter-zip sweater and a pair of silky pajama pants. You’re not surprised the men can barely keep from laughing at you.
You wait. It takes longer than you expect. If anything, you would think they would only pretend to tell the boss. That’s what they all do. They lie. They ignore you. They just don’t care. So why are you here? Why would this go any other way?
Before you can wave the white flag, the door opens.
“In,” the man holds the door as he steps out.
You flinch and Walker sneers at his partner in confusion. You’re just as surprised. The other man huffs.
“Well, he said you got five minutes, so get.”
You waver on your feet then scurry forward. You step inside the dark brick building, another man waiting just inside. He’s silent as he points you down the hall. He directs you with the terse gestures; upstairs, to the left, around another corner.
You stop before a door with another duo standing vigil by the door posts. The left one knocks, tilts his head to listen, the opens it. You’re pointed inside.
Your nerves flurry and wrap you up in a billowing storm. What are you doing? That question doesn’t matter. It’s too late.
You drag your feet inside. The door slams at your back. The room is dim, lit only by a lamp with a glass shade on the large desk across from you. Behind that, sit a man. The man. Bucky Barnes. The boss. The king.
He sits with his elbow bent over the armrest of his chair. He watches you calmly. You stand in silence by the door. He beckons you closer with two fingers.
“Can’t see you back there, doll.” He says.
You hold your breath and come forward. You gulp as you stop within a foot of the carved desk. Your eyes scour the vintage print of the wallpaper and the wooden paneling. This place is steeped in history.
He raises his hand, cradling his face as he brings to fingers to his lips. He watches you patiently. Waiting. You stare back at him. You’ve never seen him this close. You don’t even know if your father has.
“Why are you here?” He asks at last.
Your eyes narrow on the gold sheen on his pinky. It’s the only safe place to look. You feel like you’ll melt in the blaze of his oceanic irises. You exhale.
“I need someone dead.”
He doesn’t answer. Your words dangle in the air as he mulls them. You purse your lips and wince at the pain in the split along the swollen flesh.
“A man. The one who did that to you?” He sits up straight and points at you. You follow the glint of his ring. You nod. “Low life. Let me guess, daddy doesn’t know you been sneaking around.”
You shake your head, “he doesn’t know I’m here. Or that I’m asking.” You take another breath as your eyes water. You bring your hand up to your cheek as it pulses. Your father’s knuckles left a nasty welt. “Because it’s him. He’s the one who did this. And I want him dead.”
He scoffs, more amused than disbelieving.
“Warren’s a soldier of mine. You're asking me to off him?”
“I’m begging,” you finally make yourself look him in the eye. His is formidable man. Dark hair, dark beard, a touch of grey here and there. Even at this hour, he wears a nice suit and sits with authority. “Please, my sisters--”
“And how are you and your sisters going to make up for his cut. He brings in money. What can you give me?”
“You can take everything. We just want to be free,” you say.
He clucks, “what he has now is nothing compared to a lifetime of what he can get.”
You lower your lashes. That’s it. At least he didn’t laugh because you almost did when you said it out loud. Your father isn’t going to die. He’s so rancid, even death doesn’t want him. He’s not human, he’s a curse. And this man you’re asking for mercy, he’s the same kind.
“Sorry for the bother,” you eke out. “I was mistaken.”
“So you were,” he agrees. “Go home. Put some ice on it.”
It’s like another punch in the face. You nod, “thank you, sir.”
“You can go,” he dismisses.
“Yes, sir.” You put your head down and drag your foot back.
“Ah,” he tuts.
Your eyes flick up. He extends his hand across the desk. Right. He is still who he is. You step closer as he holds his hand steady. You bow down and kiss the sigil on his ring. An outdated and demeaning gesture.
Before you can stand straight, his large hand frames your chin. He pushes your head up as your eyes round. You stare at him as his gaze drifts down to your neck. The bruises by the zipper of your sweater tingle.
“You were never here,” he lets you go.
“Understood,” you retreat, “sorry again for wasting your time.”
#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#series#drabble#au#mob au#death wish#marvel#mcu#captain america#winter soldier#avengers
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