#IT HITS DEEPER WITH THAT PART IN MIND

[bluelizze]

Me after reading this:

LIKE AN OLD CARDIGAN.

✰ starring: shigaraki tomura x fem!reader ✰ synopsis: you are the lamplight left on in the hallway when tomura comes home. ✰ content: soft shiggy loving hours. i miss him ✰ warnings: none. love. fluff as fluff can get ✰ word count: 2.1k ✰ author's note: hi it's hera. yeah i know. pretty lazy of me to just be posting old patreon content but it be how it be. i'm in my sad hours right now just thinking about coming home to my girlfriend and i thought about this fic. i don't know. hope u like it. goodnight

it’s late when he comes home.

to be fair, it always is. shigaraki has never had the luxury of choosing his work hours. it’s always dark, the moon hanging high in the navy night as he turns the lock of the meagre apartment he shares with you, the one he’d choose over his paranormal liberation front-mandated penthouse any day. the welcome mat is old and shoddy, but he remembers the day you picked it out together, looking through various designs online.

he doesn’t expect you to be awake when he comes home. it’s late, almost quarter past two, the light from the hallway lamp still on, illuminating the small home with a warm, homely orange. it buzzes and fuzzes at the edges, and he wonders if he needs to change the lightbulb. shigaraki drops his coat and his bags at the door and staggers his way through his home, your home.

exhaustion courses through his veins, turning his legs to lead. his footfalls are heavy, almost dragging along the hardwood floors, and he’s almost sure he’s trailing blood like a snail trail. his? some pro hero? he doesn’t know. genuinely, he doesn’t care. all he wants is a hot bath, and you.

you. you, you, you, who throws yourself into his arms every chance you get, never minding his deadly touch. you, who kisses his temple when he has a headache. you, who sing to him when he can’t sleep. shigaraki felt like a fool thinking you would love him the way he loved you, and still does believing that you’re telling the truth. but when your voice is sweet, thick and rich like honey, it’s hard to colour your words in anything other than candour.

when shigaraki reaches the door of your bedroom, he hesitates. he sees his hands, calloused and rough and pale. he hates the sight of them, the destruction they cause, the fact that he can’t hold you with all five fingers, skin against skin. the black nail polish he begrudgingly let you paint his nails with is chipping away, and he finds himself wanting to ask you to touch them up for him. he twists the doorknob to your bedroom, letting himself in.

shigaraki comes home to this sight almost every night, and yet he can never stop the way his breath gets caught in his throat, the way his heart aches to be next to yours. the dim light from the hallway creeps towards you slowly through the crack in the door, and it feels almost invasive the way it dares to trespass into your vicinity, onto your bed. warm orange fills the room with a soft glow, and there he spots pachinko and chico curled at the foot of your bed. he lets his eyes wander further and further up until he takes you in. soft and gentle and cuddled up to his side of the bed, your legs splayed just slightly.

“tomura?” he hears, your voice trimmed with sleep. that’s right. outside he’s shigaraki. he’s the embodiment of all for one, he’s a monster with the world in his hands. but in here, in this bedroom, he’s tomura.

tomura keeps looking at you as you turn around, barely roused from your sleep. “tomura, oh,” you murmur, covers rustling as you get up. “i must’ve fallen asleep, i…”

“i’m sorry i woke you up,” he mumbles. “you should sleep. ‘s late.”

the bed dips as you move, sitting where he stands, your legs folded under you. “no,” you shake your head, a small smile growing on your face. “wanted to see you home.”

tomura shakes. tomura trembles, his lip quivering as he lifts a bloodied hand, covered in soot and grime and someone else’s demise and places it on the side of your head. his thumb soothes the patch of skin under your ear, careful to leave his pinky up as he cradles your face. “i’m home.” his voice is gruff and tired, chock full of phlegm and the torrent of his day.

he used to be conscious about the dirt he tracked into the house, hardwood floors tainted by the wear of his days. but you never said anything, only mopped and swept the next day. “shower?” you ask, looking up at him, eyes wide with adoration, and he matches your smile.

“yeah,” he clears his throat, but makes no move to walk to the bathroom. “come with?”

you beam at him, a ray of sun in the twilight of his life. “always.”

he sheds his clothes, soiled and dirty and you push over the laundry hamper for his to throw it in. tomura hesitates for just a second, looking at your delicate panties, white jumpers, and then at the mess of black, brown and blue in his hands, roughed and tattered. “do you need me to stitch any of it up?” you ask, your back turned to him. you’re bent over the tub, testing the water to see if it’s too hot or too cold (tomura likes it warm. not lukewarm, not hot, warm.).

“maybe,” he murmurs. “i’ll look at it tomorrow.”

you hum in agreement. tomorrow’s your day together. tomura tried to spend as much time as he could at home with you and the cats, opting to schedule the league and the front’s happenings around what you wanted to do. grocery shopping day never clashed with a meeting. he was always home for movie night.

tomura turns, now naked and bare in front of you. there’s a smatter of blood, a smear of soot along his collarbone, and you reach forward with your hand wet to wipe it off. “long day, huh?” you ask, eyes flickering up to meet his for just a second.

“very.”

“saw it on the tv.” you pull him along to the tub, his arms long and lean and toned, hands warm. “looked devastating. not for you, though.”

he chuckles, lets you fuss over him. he steps into the bathtub, the water sloshing and splashing messily onto the floor. but your foresight is stronger, your bath rugs pulled towards the feet of the tub to catch the water. it’s the perfect temperature, always is when you run it for him, bubbly and soapy water clinging to his skin. you sit on the edge of the tub, watching him.

“come in,” his voice tugs on your heart, his hand breaking the water to reach for you. “shower with me.”

you smile. “was waiting for you to ask.” you stand, removing your sleep shorts and shirt, dipping your toes in slowly before letting yourself enter on the opposite side of the tub, your legs tangled together, facing each other. the water is pleasant, but it’s his warmth that comforts you. “bend down.”

he does. tomura only listens to one person, and that’s you. he dips his head, the long strands of soft hair soaked in water. you cup your hands to collect water, and lift it above his head to pour it on his scalp, soaking the rest of his head. it’s a quiet, methodical process, pouring water on his head before taking the shampoo from the side of the bathtub. you squirt a little bit into your hands, lathering it up before scrubbing his hair, making sure the suds clean the dirt off his scalp.

tomura’s hands bring death. yours bring life.

he sits there in silent contemplation, watching the water ripple with your actions. it distorts the image of himself, his reflection broken up into waves on the surface of the water. the big, bad villain melted away in your palms, now just a man being showered by his love. his girlfriend, who has stayed every day. who promises him better days.

there’s not enough in the world that he could give you in return. to compensate, to reward, to thank you. all he can do is sit quiet in this tiny bathtub in this tiny bathroom in this tiny apartment with you. all he can do is love you, and let you love him.

you wash him meticulously, not a word out of your mouth as you trace over scars, new and old, gashing or small. except for a small tut when your fingers reach his sternum, where a big, blue bruise is beginning to form. you recognised it; it must’ve been when he was compromised and cornered by mirko and some other pro-hero, before he gained the cohesion of mind to crumble the ground they stood on, knocking them off their stances just long enough to pick up the poor nameless hero by the collar. you’d turned away for a second when you watched that. you knew what happened to people who tomura got his hands on.

did you think the war was foolish? of course you did. it never escaped you the death toll, the property damage, the harm he caused. but you also understood that what he was setting his hands on was a government and a system that failed him, that failed every person who was deemed a villain. you knew that your life as a quirkless was much less valuable than someone with a quirk. you knew that those with quirks they couldn’t control, those with quirks that couldn’t serve, couldn’t save, they were thrown to the sidelines. who are they to deem who is good and who is bad?

once you’ve scrubbed his body with the loofah, you set it down on the side of the tub. “look up,” you direct him gently, your fingers tipping his chin upwards. “look at me.”

vermillion eyes flit up to meet yours, and your features soften just looking at him. you’ve looked at tomura plenty of times. it’s your favourite thing to do. but in the middle of the night, he just looks so… vulnerable. there’s a softness in his eyes you can’t explain.

you know that he tells you all his secrets, but you can’t help but feel like there are so many more buried behind his eyes.

a damp washcloth wipes along his jaw, his cheeks, his nose. you dip it in and out of the water, droplets melodical in your tiny space, tracing his sunken eyes and his scarred skin. the back of his neck where he scratches out of habit. his lips, chapped and flaking. you soak it all with your cloth and soapy water.

when you’re done, you can tell he isn’t. the bathwater’s long since gone cold, but he makes no move to get out. he’s still, the only telltale sign that he’s even alive the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. you let him steep in the water, let him take as much time as he needs to gather enough of himself to become a person again.

finally, he speaks. “do you love me?”

it’s a simple question. he’s asked it many time before; in the mornings, when the two of you spend the lazy hours together in bed. in the afternoons as you fuss over his clothes before he steps out the door. in the evenings, over the phone when he can’t make it home for dinner. in the nights that he spends buried inside you, your hands laced together, panting into your mouth. this is not an uncommon question for tomura.

but somehow, you feel like it is momentous today.

“i do,” you murmur, your hands still fit along his cheek. “i love you.”

he looks at you. “can you say it with my name?”

a beat passes. you find your tongue, and say, “i love you, tomura.”

a small frown etches in his forehead. you’re struck by a sudden fear you’ve said the wrong thing, your mouth opening to take it back. you would rather die than hurt tomura. you would rather burn through a thousand years in purgatory than do anything that upset him. you’re ready to ask what’s wrong when he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut. there’s a tightness in his face you want to smooth with the pad of your thumb, that reaches into you and wrenches your heart. squeezes it until it bursts.

“n-not tomura. not that name.”

oh. oh.

you understand that vulnerability now. in scarlet eyes, you watch a small boy huddle close to you, like you’re a hearth of warmth and comfort. you are. you are, to him. you burn for him.

“i love you, tenko.”

and he softens. he melts, like butter in your hot, hot hands, under your blazing fingers. tomura shigaraki, the king of the underworld, the biggest villain known to man sits in your home, in your bathtub as you wash him clean. but it’s tenko shimura that you hold close to you now.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

Aveline is one of those companions in Dragon Age that makes me say, "God, you're such a bitch... tell me more right now."

I don't hate Aveline; honestly, I don't hate any of the companions from any of the games, their flaws and negative aspects make them interesting... but oh my god, Aveline is infuriating and sometimes I just want to grab and shake her.

She's such a hypocrite. She believes she's so lawful good and would never fall to corruption but she absolutely does?? Just because it's not the same sort of corruption as Jeven doesn't mean it's not corruption??

The Magistrate's Orders quest where you go to find Kelder who has a history of kidnapping and killing elven children? Aveline strongly agrees with bringing down hard justice on Kelder. When one of the guards there says Kelder's father will have Hawke's head, she says, "Only if it's reported."

If you kill Kelder, Aveline gives you Friendship +5 because she understands that if you let Kelder go, he'll never face justice for his crimes because his father won't let him. If you let him go, she gives Rivalry +5. In this situation, Aveline is more approving of Hawke killing him because yeah, it's bad that Kelder is killing these elves and everyone is just covering it up.

Fast forward to the end of Act 2 where Aveline comes to Hawke like, "The qunari are harboring two fugitives, we can't let them do that, it'll be real bad if people think they can avoid punishment by hiding with the qunari, come help me."

But then you get there and the two fugitives are a pair of elves who admit they killed a guard who forced himself onto their sister because no one did anything when they reported it. So they took matters into their own hands... and Aveline has the balls to say, "That doesn't excuse murder."

What are you talking about??? And if Hawke asks her if it's true, she hesitates and says there were rumors and she'll investigate and I'm just.... what do you mean you'll investigate??? you heard rumors?? did you not investigate before??

Aveline "I don't coddle my men" Vallen, you KNEW someone reported this about that guard and what? You didn't investigate because?? Because nooo, not one of your men?? Aveline, just because you're in charge now doesn't mean ALL of the guard are as lawful and good as you supposedly are! There's always going to be corrupt guards and a good Guard-Captain would do everything in their power to seed out those guards for the betterment and safety of the people! They would take those accusations seriously! But the elves say no one did ANYTHING.

Then the part that really gets me, right? Is if Hawke says they would've done the same thing, Aveline gets pissed and says, "Hawke! That's not helping!"

But that's the thing- If it WAS one of Hawke's siblings in this exact situation instead of a nameless elf, Aveline would've taken it seriously. If the same guard forced himself onto Bethany or Carver and Hawke killed him for it, Aveline wouldn't be stomping around like, "That doesn't excuse murder, Hawke! How could you? You need to face justice!" No, she would've been all for killing the guard because it's Hawke and their sibling.

Aveline cares about Hawke and has a bias for them, so it's okay for them to do that but a couple of elves who, like Elren from the Magistrate's Orders quest, are sick of no one helping them when they need it do it.... Noooo, that doesn't excuse murder!

It's like Aveline can't ever admit she's in the wrong, either. She never takes accountability for this. Even if she just admitted that she should've investigated and she'll make an effort to be better for the sake of ALL people in Kirkwall [because Aveline believes "I stand for all of us!" so strongly that it's something she consistently says in battle] moving forward then I would be less what the fuck about it, but she just doesn't.

It's like with Emeric and the murders happening... she and her men supposedly investigate Emeric's claims that all these murders happening in Kirkwall are connected, but Aveline keeps dismissing him that there isn't enough evidence.... except there's SO MUCH EVIDENCE when Hawke goes to investigate DuPuis, funny enough.

It's takes Leandra going missing before Aveline takes the case seriously. Even Emeric dying is like.... "oh no, he's dead, he was right... let's not do anything about it." It's takes Leandra dying for Quinton to be caught and killed, and my Hawke always lashes out at her for this and she just.... stands there like "Okay. Nothing I can say will make it better. Sorry for your loss."

but actually, yes, you COULD say you'll learn from this and do what you can to be better.... but again, Aveline just doesn't want to hear it?? then the qunari shit happens after!

And I get it. Aveline is only one person. She's Guard-Captain but she can't be everywhere at once and sometimes there really isn't enough evidence to convict someone of a crime. I'm sure she has a lot of work and stress in her position... but god, it's her inability to face the fact that she isn't this great embodiment of lawful good and that she IS corrupt in a lot of ways.

Turning a blind eye to the corruption in your guard, coddling your men and getting pissy when Hawke comes to you like, "So, Cullen sent me a letter that there are complaints about you and he wants me to investigate because he's scared of you and really don't want your job so.... are you coddling your men?" and having your husband, someone completely biased in your favor, vouch for you like.... that's being a little corrupt, Aveline??? a little dishonest?? a little abuse of your power?? why are you so frustrating???

I have a lot of criticism of her [like don't even get me started on how she ruined Carver's opportunity with the guard when that absolutely was not in her right to do] but I still find her to be interesting in a complicated, frustrating way. I have theories about why she's Like This that stem from her father and upbringing, but that's an analysis for another day. I just needed to get these thoughts out because I'm replaying DA2 and Aveline always hits a nerve.

[dekuneho]

no one else's ☆ ( ​thirdyear!katsuki x fem!reader ) mdni | suggestive

Kirishima taps Katsuki on the shoulder very gently, looking embarrassed as he chokes out, “Your girlfriend fell asleep on the couch.”

Katsuki would’ve brushed it off with a snap that anyone could use the fucking couch who gives a fuck, but his eyes slide to Kirishima’s other arm holding a disgruntled Mineta up. Immediately, Katsuki’s gut twists in displeasure, the pencil in his grasp snapping in half.

“Did you fucking do something?” Katsuki hisses out, yanking Mineta’s collar to face the full brunt of his sneer.

“No!” Mineta cries out, having the nerve to sound disappointed. “No, I didn’t, dude. Get off me.”

And before Katsuki could kill Mineta right then and there, Kirishima swerves him out of the way. Don’t get your hero license revoked over him, Kirishima’s eyes seem to say.

“He’s telling the truth, man, don’t worry about it.” Kirishima then glares soundly at Mineta, disappointment evident. “He was acting weird, though. That’s why I got him.”

“Traitor,” Mineta says, wriggling uselessly mid-air.

“I’ll kill you,” Katsuki swears to him, before storming off, each step heavy with pure murder.

The rest of the class is smarter than Mineta. They avert their gazes and mind their business — or it could be that they can sense the unadulterated rage emanating from every pore of his body.

Yet as he reaches you, every trace of that same rage dissipates into the air. His eyes outline your body, dead to the world, shorts hiked up with one leg curved — laid unaware. No wonder some freak like Mineta wanted to prey on it.

Katsuki sighs. "Always giving me damn trouble," he mutters to your sleeping figure, snorting when there's an answering snore.

He heaves you up and off the couch, arms hooking under your neck and the back of your knees. Katsuki pushes past the living room, ignoring the curious stares of his classmates. They all know where he's headed — straight to his room.

You awake to a pinch on your thigh.

When you come to, Katsuki is staring at you heavily, hovering above you with your head between his hands.

"Kats'ki?" you croak out, words stringing together. "Wha's…"

Katsuki begins to crawl down, and down, until his knees hit the floor; until he's face to face with your legs. You're still swimming through the sluggishness limbo of being half-awake, lagging behind only moments after Katsuki. You feel his grip on your ankle; it tickles, it's warm.

He lowers his head and pins your knee down with a searing kiss. The sensation spreads to your entire body. You shudder, toes curling. Katsuki smiles against you, his hands sliding up to your thighs.

"Too early," you whine. But you don't push him off; you press against him closer.

"'s already 6 AM," Katsuki says, pushing your legs open.

The touch of cold air and the sporadic puffs of Katsuki's breath have you sinking deeper into the bed, pleasure crawling in every part of your body that he's taking by force, in the gentlest way possible.

Katsuki latches his mouth onto the inside of your thigh, inching deeper at your gasp. You suck air through your teeth, taking every control you have left not to snap your legs shut and force Katsuki out. When he pulls off, your thigh is left with a clear bruise. He doesn't stop there — he dives in again on a different point.

"As soon as we get our ass here," Katsuki murmurs against your skin, his breath hot on your evening-chilled skin, "I'm taking you out; we'll go apartment-hunting."

"W-what?"

"And you can wear whatever the fuck you want," he continues, licking at the mark, "or nothin' at all — I don't give a shit. No one else, just us. You hear me?"

You sit up, nearly knocking your knee against Katsuki's face. "You're asking me to move in with you?"

Katsuki scowls, the telltale sign of a blush creeping to his face. "You have other plans?"

"No, no," you cup his cheek, kissing the pout of his lips; "never, if it's not with you."

Katsuki appears satisfied, claiming your lips in a deep kiss. You draw away from each other with a stuttered gasp, heat pooling in your stomach at Katsuki's delighted gaze. "No turning back," he whispers. "Got that? This'll be no one else's."

Dizzy with need, you can only say, "Yes, yes. No one else's but yours, Katsuki. Now, please go back in between my legs."

[webism]

satoru who keeps proposing to you in the most unconventional moments—namely when he's got you dizzy from your fourth or fifth orgasm of the night.

satoru who knows some people get emotional when they climax, some get animalistic and rough, some get overwhelmed by pleasure. and maybe he's a mixture of them all, he absolutely has his nights, but for the most part: he gets sentimental.

satoru who has to deal with the roll of your eyes when he's knuckles deep inside of you, lips only millimetres from yours when he's whispering, begging, "c'mon, let me marry you. you don't wanna feel a ring on these fingers baby? tell me you don't."

satoru who knows you want to be proposed to properly. and he's planning on it, he really is, but he can't help but get caught up in his feels when you just look so pretty laid out for him. who can't bear not recognising you as his through every means necessary. he wants it to be lawful, recognised in the system that you wholly belong to him. maybe knock you up for good measure, attach a birth certificate to the proof that you're his.

satoru who has you shaking on his cock, fucked near-senseless for the second time that night. you're a babbling mess, galaxies away from earth in that pretty little mind of yours. he's not sure you even remember your own name at this point, all you're managing is a string of 'yesyesyesyesyes' that has his balls aching to empty inside of you again and again. 'marry me' he says in response, and rolls his eyes when you purse your lips shut in protest.

satoru who has even brought a ring. one you'd hit him for buying if you ever saw the price tag on it, but he knows you're worth the paycheck or six that it took.

satoru who keeps that ring on his person at all times; he never knows when the perfect sunset might happen and he'll be forced to a knee.

satoru who also can't help but slip the ring onto your finger while he's got your hands pinned above your head and his cock seated deeper inside of you than its ever been. who cums immediately at the sight of such a pretty set of jewels on your wedding finger, who almost regrets his orgasm because it blinds him for a few moments and he's trying to savour the sight of that ring on your finger.

satoru who knows you're getting sick of the lust-driven proposals. who plans on proposing one night, he's got everything planned, he's even made sure you've had your nails done for the upcoming ring photos you're sure to share. who is actually sick with nerves despite knowing what you'll say.

satoru who sits on your shared bed and is gently urging you to get ready quicker, lest you miss the sunset he's planning on proposing in front of. but you have other plans, climbing over him to straddle his lap, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. and you lean in, whisper the filthiest thing you've ever said to him~

satoru gojo, who cums in his pants at the words 'I'll marry you.'

[ultraviolencer23]

nsfw 18+⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ minors dni

pairing : simon “ghost” riley x virgin!fem!reader

warnings : soft smut, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), use of 'good girl', praise, gentle simon, oral (f receiving), first time oral, no sex

"this all f' me?" he asked with the raise of his eyebrows, taking in the view of your glistening pussy as he held your legs open with little effort. you glanced down at the man staring at the most intimate part of your body, feeling slightly self-conscious and exposed beneath his eyes. he looked up to you for a response, as you slowly nodded your head, mind clouded by your nervousness and desperate need for his touch.

"oh baby," he murmured, gently pushing his thumb into your wetness and watching for your reaction. you whined in response, subtly bucking your hips up for more, only craving him deeper by the second. "we can't have that, sweetheart," he muttered, lightly toying with your clit, "i'll make it feel better, yeah?"

you nodded fervently in reply, desperate for that dull ache to be soothed by him. "good girl," he said, wasting no time before placing a feather-light kiss to your aching clit. he softly licked at your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting quiet mewls and whines from your throat as you writhed in pleasure beneath his hold.

"so sweet," he mused, gently thumbing over your wet entrance, making you jolt with sensitivity, and whine with the unfulfilling touch. "you’ve got yourself so worked up," he said, collecting your slick with his fingers and circling it around your clit. you exhaled a moan of relief, as your ache finally got the attention it needed, feeling it instantly alleviate as his fingers gently worked upon you.

with two fingers, he collected your arousal, using it to slide into your entrance for the first time, making your breath hitch in your throat. you watched his movements closely, saw how gently he manoeuvred his fingers against your walls, until he hit that spot inside of you. reflexively, your head fell back with a whine coming from your throat at the pure pleasure he caused.

you brought your hands up to cover your face, feeling so vulnerable under the blissful sensation, as his fingers slowly worked in and out of your soaked-through pussy. he brought his mouth to you, lapping at your wetness, adding greatly to the pleasure that hit you in waves. "sweetheart," he mumbled, lips still around your clit, "don't be embarrassed." he pulled your hands from your face to see your tear-filled eyes looking down at him. "takin' it so well for me."

he curled his fingers upwards to press into that sweet spot within you, making your eyes roll closed, eliciting a loud whine from your mouth. "that's a good girl," he murmured, tongue swirling around your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers softly pumped in and out of you. you unknowingly clenched around his fingers at his remark, hearing him huff out a chuckle as a new wave of arousal turned your mind inside out.

"you like that baby?" he asked, looking up to your teary eyes, "you like being called a good girl?" you whimpered and nodded in reply, grasping onto the sheets beneath you solely due to the sound of his gravely voice.

"s..simon," you whined, bucking your hips up to meet his tongue and fingers as you felt the pleasure tightening in your lower belly, "it feels weird."

"that's okay, baby," he reassured, "let it happen." he ploughed his fingers back and forth, simultaneously circling his tongue over your clit with his nose pressed into your soft skin above and lapping at your arousal as if starving with hunger.

your back arched with the overwhelming sensation coursing through your body, making your hips writhe with desperation for relief. he held you down to the bed beneath you, pressing a flat palm to your lower stomach to stop your movement; his warmth pushed you closer to the edge of release: his tongue, his mouth, his fingers, his hand. every feather-light touch enlightened that spark within you that needed alleviation.

"sim.. simon, i'm.. it feels really strange," you mumbled, eyes closing tightly as short gasps came from your mouth.

"that's it. come on, sweetheart," he urged, increasing the pace of his fingers, swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit inside his mouth. your hands searched for something to hold onto, as pleasure hit you in waves of fire. his hand on your lower abdomen found yours, lacing his fingers with yours as you squeezed tightly and the building sensation tipped over the edge, outflowing like a thrashing wave of euphoria. your mewls and whines filled the room as you bucked your hips in overstimulation, the ache finally subsiding at the hands of him.

"there you go, baby," he uttered, "good girl." you breathed heavily as your chest heaved, coming down from your first high.

an : apologies for the 2 month absence..

[scorpieuns]

GIRLS NEED LOVE | PARK SUNGHOON

summary: you can’t seem to listen when your best friend says her older brother is off limits.

word count: 3.2k

warnings (18+): smut. fluff (if you squint lmfao). swearing. alcohol. kissing. nipple play, fingering (f. receiving).

MINORS DNI!!

A/N: back again after my usual cycle of deleting and remaking accounts here (hopefully this is my last lol). edited and remade this just in case it sounds familiar!

The summer heat was relentless tonight, a thick, suffocating blanket that clung to your skin and refused to let go. You tossed and turned beneath the light sheets, frustration building with every huff of breath.

The air was humid, making it impossible to slumber. Despite having your eyes shut for what felt like an eternity, sleep remained elusive, teasing you from just beyond reach.

You’d like to think there were other reasons besides the warmth of the summer evening that had you feeling hot and bothered. The muffled hum of cicadas outside droned on, an irritating cacophony that seeped through the walls, mingling with the soft snores of your best friend beside you.

But, it wasn’t really the noise that kept you awake—it was the swirling thoughts in your mind, each one pulling you deeper into a mixtape of memories you wished would stay buried.

Your brain, ever the tormentor, delighted in replaying moments you’d rather forget. Moments that belonged in the past, locked away and never to be revisited.

You wanted to blame the events at Jake’s party on the alcohol—specifically that cursed, yet sinfully good, cherry vodka Jay made.

It was the vodka, after all, that led you to kiss your best friend’s brother in the first place.

At least, that’s what you wanted to believe. It was the alcohol…it had to be the alcohol.

It wasn’t the fact that you had a raging crush on him for months. If anything, it was his fault. Sunghoon was the one who escaped from the party to join you. Somehow letting aimless conversation fall into enamoured glances, droning about how pretty you looked that night.

He was the one who slid his hands around your waist and pulled you closer, lips ghosting over yours and pleading to kiss you.

Passionately. Feverishly. Hungrily.

Your eyes snapped open with a frustrated sigh, the darkness of the room doing little to calm the rapid thrum of your heart as you sat up. The memory of Thursday night played vividly in your mind, leaving your chest tight and your thoughts tangled.

Since that night, you hadn’t seen much of Sunghoon, his summer job at the beach keeping him occupied while you and Sooah roamed the town, searching for anything to distract yourselves from the blistering heat.

A part of you was relieved not to see him since Thursday night. You preferred the silence over the possibility of hearing him downplay what happened, blaming it on ‘party spirit’ or the alcohol.

With a sigh, you slipped out of bed, your feet softly padding across the carpeted floor as you made your way out of the room.

Maybe a midnight snack would help ease your restless mind, you thought, as you quietly descended the stairs, the faint glow from the living room spilled onto the wooden floor signalling that you weren’t the only one awake tonight.

But, preoccupied with the sole quest to sleep, you brush it aside, entering the dimly lit kitchen and making a beeline for the fridge.

When you open the fridge you close your eyes with a sigh, the feeling of the cold breeze hitting your skin making you feel a thousand times better.

“Can’t sleep?” Sunghoon’s voice tickling the shell of your ear startles you, slightly jumping with a stifled scream. “What the hell?!” You whisper yell, “don’t sneak up on people like that!” You chide, clutching your heart in an attempt to regain your composure.

Sunghoon’s smirk grows into a smile, seemingly humoured with scaring you shitless and you roll your eyes at him. It only takes a few seconds to notice how close he is to you, swallowing thickly as your eyes scanned his appearance.

Nothing but a pair of sweatpants and white socks…great, he was shirtless.

“I don’t think I will sleep anytime soon, thanks to you.” You grumbled in response to his question, awarding yourself for not sparing another glance at his naked upper half.

“Oh come on princess, it wasn’t that bad.” You roll your eyes again before returning to the fridge, trying not to mull over the nickname he had just given you.

You could feel Sunghoon’s gaze remain fixed on you, studying you intently, until he eventually turned his attention to the fridge. You felt as though he could feel the heat radiating from your skin as he moved closer— the gentle breaths escaping his lips and teasing the hairs on your neck, causing you to shiver.

You quickly emerge from the little world of the icy machine, settling with the first thing you see to avoid being with him in such closeness—which is a simple vanilla bean yoghurt.

The tension in the air feels painfully thick and awkward, and you silently mutter prayers in hopes that he leaves the minute he finds what he’s looking for— but he doesn't.

Sunghoon emerges with an energy drink, the crisp sound of the can opening cutting through the white noise. He effortlessly leans against the marble counter, taking a slow deliberate sip of the drink, Adam's apple rising and falling as he swallows. As he pulls the can away, he casually wipes his bottom lip with his thumb, gaze locking onto you again.

Your yoghurt suddenly looks really interesting, reading the indecipherable scientific words in the ingredient list and immersing yourself in the brand's origin story, all in an effort to avoid the intense presence of the guy in front of you.

“We should talk about Thursday night.” Your heart sinks in dread. Your face begins to burn and you nervously clear your throat, “talk about what?”

“You know what Y/N.” He says, stepping closer to you. Sunghoon settles the sweaty can onto the counter, surveilling your surroundings before he lowers his voice, “So you’re just gonna pretend like you don’t remember?”

You finally glance at the guy, whose brown eyes are already boring into your soul, searching for any sort of answer in your stoic expression. You swallow thickly as you revisit Thursday night’s events for the umpteenth time and it all still feels like a dream.

The way Sunghoon kissed you in a way that left you breathless, hands gripping your waist so tight as though you’d slip away any second.

You clearly remembered it as though it were yesterday, the tingling sensation of his fingertips on your skin, the scent of his cologne filling the air, the lustrous look in his eyes when he pulled away, only to have you lean in for more.

You indeed did kiss your best friend's brother.

“Sunghoon.” You sigh, "Can't we just put it behind us? We weren't in the right state of mind,"

Sunghoon shook his head with a frustrated sigh, leaving his spot beside you and positioning himself in front of you. His hands gripped the edge of the counter on either side of you, effectively trapping you and preventing your escape.

“Y/N, both of us know that isn’t true.” Sunghoon pauses and your breath gets caught in your throat when his hand meets your cheek, his cold touch sending delightful shivers down your spine.

"Are you honestly telling me that didn't hold any meaning for you?" His voice was low, almost tinged with frustration.

You finally look away, unable to keep the nerve-wracking eye contact but Sunghoon makes a sound of disapproval, his hand swiftly moving to your chin and turning you to meet his face again.

He emits a hum, eyebrows raised and anticipating a response, and your mouth opens, but you struggle to articulate any kind of excuse.

You hate just how much you dwindle under Sunghoon’s presence, hoping that he can’t hear the hammering of your heart, along with the nervous breaths that slip past your lips whenever he looks at you.

“Well it did for me.”

“I liked it.” He shrugs, leaning in, dimples denting his cheeks with a knowing smirk when he catches the way your body reacts.

“And I’d give anything to feel those lips again” He admits desperately, voice below a whisper. You can only let out a shaky breath as Sunghoon’s thumb toys with the plump flesh of your bottom lip, slowly inching closer to him and finally closing the gap between you two.

Kissing Sunghoon feels just like the first time, an electrifying sensation coursing through your body, with your heart pounding so loudly that it could reverberate off the kitchen walls. It's like a breath of fresh air, a mixture of exhilaration, longing and relief washing over you.

You sigh, hands finding his face as he kisses back, desperately leaning into the kiss as he matches your fervour, hands slipping to your waist and pulling you closer as if there were still some distance to bridge between you. Your hands wind around his neck, fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling his face closer as the passionate kisses gradually blend into a makeout session.

The sounds of kissing fill the room, the fridge’s hums doing nothing to drown the rather lewd sounds out. Sunghoon breaks away from you, his breathing uneven. His cheeks carry a faint blush, and his hair is a cute mess.

It takes everything in you not to gravitate back to the solace of his soft and pretty lips and you’re taken aback, nearly letting out a surprised yelp when his hands swiftly reach for the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up and placing you onto the chilly surface of the marble countertop.

You’re now at eye-level and without warning, he is back on your lips, hands finding themselves under the thin material of your tank top and the cold metal of his rings against your flaming skin make your arch your back reflexively.

He pulls away, teeth softly tugging your bottom lip, with a breathy groan before he moves your jawline, sloppy open mouthed kisses travelling down your neck, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin, softly whimpering and sighing as the sensation blurred any rational thought that was left in your mind.

His hand slipped past your sternum, over your flimsy tank top and under it, brushing over your hot skin and on landing your breast, giving the flesh a soft squeeze.

Sunghoon’s lips follow suit, lips gliding over your collarbone before lifting your shirt up and attaching his lips to your nipple without warning, soft moans filling the quiet room as his tongue swipes over the erect bud.

Your fingers weaved in his soft hair, tugging on it as he moved to the other, kissing, nipping and sucking, the feeling snowballing the ache between your legs.

He finally pulled away with a ‘pop’, glancing back at your clouded state, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip between your teeth.

“You’re so, so fucking beautiful.” Sunghoon groans, gently grabbing your face, kissing you messily. His hands glide to your hips, lips moving sloppily and hungrily against yours.

His pulls you closer to his body, legs hooked around his waist and that’s when you feel it, something hard poking the inside of your inner thigh and when you pull yourself closer, it perfectly hits your aching cunt, a dizzying wave of pleasure coursing through you, your moans being swallowed by mouth— and you can tell you’re not the only one who feels this way when you hear Sunghoon’s lewd groans.

You can't help but subconsciously roll your hips against him, grabbing at his waist and looking for some kind of friction– chasing the same feeling of pleasure that you felt before. You shamelessly moan at the lovely feeling of his clothed dick hitting you in the right spot, only making you more impatient and needy.

Sunghoon’s low moans make your stomach flip, and you want to hear more of them but he stops—pulling away from your lips and gripping your waist so tightly you're sure it would leave a bruise.

“If you keep doing that, I’ll have to fuck you on the counter.” He warns, but you can’t take it seriously, not when his voice is so breathy and raspy.

“Then do it.” You whine, begging the man to throw you onto the counter like a rag doll and fuck you into oblivion.

But he only shakes his head, hands cupping your flushed cheeks, “I still want to make you feel good.” Sunghoon presses a soft kiss on your swollen lips.

His fingers tug the waistband of your shorts, and you lift yourself up as he swiftly removes them— the warmth of your skin meeting the contrasting marble. “As much as I’d love to hear your pretty moans, try to be quiet, alright?” You nod quickly, impatient and desperate for him to just touch you already.

You suck in your stomach with a quiet gasp when his fingers trail across the smooth skin of your thighs, “So soft…” He mumbled against your lips, hands sliding to the inside of your thighs, higher…higher, until his fingers find their way to your underwear toying with its lacy hem, before reaching the place where you need him most.

You inhale sharply, almost failing to hold back a moan when he finally touches your clothed clit, fingers rubbing over the wet fabric. You’re almost embarrassed by how quickly you lean into his touch, inaudibly yearning for more.

“Fuck Hoon.” You breathe out, hands covering your mouth, muffling your needy moans as he traced over the wet spot in circular motions, whimpering every time his thumb

“You’re so wet.” Sunghoon hisses, bottom lip between his teeth as he stares at you, eyes dark and pupils slightly blown.

“Shit, is this all for me?” Sunghoon's velvety whispers against your lips seem so far away as your eyes flutter shut, “Sunghoon, please.” You manage to whimper out, hands meeting his naked chest.

“Please what?” He hums, feigning obliviousness and you groan, feeling your pride slowly wither away. “I…I need you.” You whined. “So bad.”

“Yeah?” Sunghoon coaxed and you nodded desperately, a smirk creeping onto his lips that you wished you could wipe off— if it wasn’t for the pent up sexual frustration you felt and its fate lying in his hands…literally.

He wasted no time meeting your pleas, dragging the fabric to the side as fingers slid against your slick glistening folds, hand flying to your mouth and head falling back at the newfound pleasure coursing through you.

Your other hand gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the skin of his back and earning a hiss from Sunghoon’s lips. His fingers easily slip into your hole, your arousal more than enough to let his fingers move with his ease— and you feel like you’re seeing stars.

“Fuck” A choked moan slips past your lips with a gasp, hand falling limp– overwhelmed with pleasure. “You like that baby?” Sunghoon coos, and you only hum in content, breaths coming in hitches as Sunghoon worked his fingers inside of you, pumping in and out at a satisfying and rhythmic pace.

Holding in your moans was getting harder and he could tell, watching your face contort in frustration and both pleasure, surprised your lips hadn’t started bleeding from biting too hard.

“...feels so good” You manage to let out, half lidded eyes meeting the man before you, practically enamoured by your presence. “I d-don’t think I can...fuck” You choked out. “Come on baby, I know you can take it.” Sunghoon’s words almost send you over the edge. Your head lulls forwards, mouth falling agape as strings of curses spill out of your lips.

As though he wanted to taunt you, you felt his thumb press onto your swollen clit, letting out a shocked and rather loud moan into the air. “Sunghoon-” You moaned, lips pursed together as you tried to compose yourself, but you were already falling apart.

The obscene noises of your drenched cunt and your choked moans and whimpers fill the kitchen, feeling your face grow warm. You hide your face in the crook of his neck and you hear Sunghoon chuckle, leaning back and lifting your head with fingers holding your face, “Come on baby, I wanna see your beautiful face when I make you come.”

Sunghoon could feel your legs beginning to tremble, as your walls fluttered around his fingers, chest heaving and soft moans becoming just a pitch higher.

His fingers quicken its pace, curving at an angle that seems to send you over the moon, failing to hold back your moans as he moves faster.

Afraid of another slip up, Sunghoon lips meet yours, swallowing your broken moans that can’t be helped as you near your high. An aching intense feeling begins to brew at the pit of your abdomen, driving your nails down the skin of his chest undoubtedly leaving a mark.

You cry his name out, followed by a mutter of profanities as you finally come around his fingers. “So beautiful.” He whispers, hand meeting your face as his thumb brushes the tears coating your lashes. He presses a gentle kiss on your parted lips— still a bit lightheaded to return it, slowly coming down from your high.

Sunghoon’s fingers finally slip out, a broken mewl leaving your lips at the lost feeling. He takes the liberty of cleaning his fingers with his tongue, heat rushing to your face as hums at the taste of you.

“What?” Sunghoon’s shrugs, “You taste good.” He smirks, hands finding the mess of your hair and pulling you into his lips, the kiss softer and more saccharine than the ones before.

You can still feel something poking your leg and your eyes flicker down to Sunghoon’s sweatpants, but before you can say anything, you hear the sound of a door click open upstairs and you and Sunghoon both exchange a look of alarm and horror.

The sound of Sooah’s voice sends you two in a frenzy, Sunghoon helping you slide off the counter as you pull down your shirt and scramble for your shorts.

“Y/N?” She calls out, feet pattering against the wooden stairs, as she descends to the first floor.

You both grab your long forgotten midnight snacks, settling yourself on a chair across from Sunghoon while he stands behind the counter…rightfully so.

When Sooah enters the kitchen, she thankfully doesn’t speculate anything, you two are both glued to your phones, scrolling on some sort of social media platform.

“Sooah, hey!”

“Hey…I was wondering where you went.” She smiled at you before her eyes flickered to her brother, exchanging their usual sibling formalities by grimacing at each other.

“I just came down for a snack, that's all.” You smiled, trying to conceal the mild shakiness of your voice.

Instead she moves closer to you, hands brushing your stray hairs into place, “Okay, well…I’ll see you upstairs.” And with that she leaves the kitchen.

Both of you let out sighs of relief, glancing at one another. Your face feels hot again, and you rise to your feet, a slight tremble in your thighs.

“I should…probably head back too.” You sigh, nodding your head upstairs.

“Oh! Yeah, right.”

The ceiling light highlights the rosy hue flushed on Sunghoon’s cheeks, his messy hair and plump lips, flashing you one of his pretty smiles, “I’ll see you later princess.”

As you leave the kitchen, Sunghoon fights the urge to pull you in for just one more kiss. His eyes linger until you disappear from view, and with a soft sigh, he runs his hands through his dark hair.

Now how was he going to fix his hard-on ?

[lovelyghst]

soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.

it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.

he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.

and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.

he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.

simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.

he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.

he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.

dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.

and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.

would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.

simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.

your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.

“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”

and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.

“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.

you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.

he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.

“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”

you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.

he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.

he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.

“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”

(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)

[sunarc]

Dilf Toji fucks you nice and slow when you’re done putting Megumi down for bed. He wants to thank you for being so good to him and his son. As a single dad it gets hard so when you came into the picture offering your services it was hard to deny such a genuine offer. You’re so good to Megumi, gentle, kind and patient. Toji can’t help the growing bulge in his pants when he sees you being such a strong mother figure. He has to show you his gratitude. The best way he can do that is by having you in a mating press so he can fuck you nice and deep. 

“You like that?” his voice is a soft hum. 

You feel dizzy. His cock feels so deep. He’s stretching you out more than ever before. You call out his name in a soft whimper.

“Yeah? I’m right here doll don't worry I’m not going anywhere” he groans.

Toji’s obsessed with the way you look taking his cock. Your hole looks so perfect clenching, barely able to fit all of him. You look so full, Toji can’t help but imagine how full you would look with his cum drooling out of you. He has to see it. He’s determined to fuck you full of his cum. His cock plunges in and out of you creating a pattern. Your moans fall past your lips making a tune Toji never wants to forget. 

“That’s it, good girl, say my name” you sound so pretty to him. “Tell me who fucks you this good, say it , tell me no one can make you shake like this, no one can fill this pussy up the way i can”

He’s never felt himself lose control like this before. There’s something about you, something that leaves him desperate for more. He craves you, desires you every waking second. The way your lips part letting pleads and moans drip off your tongue has him losing his mind. He can’t get enough of you. He knows he should be quiet but the way your cunt feels squeezing him so tight he thinks he just might lose his mind. “That feel good baby? Yeah I know” he coos “I’m gonna fuck you so full” his pace is picking up speed. 

His mind is practically blank thinking of how he wants to fill you to the brim with his cum. No that’s not enough he needs to give you every last drop he has. 

“You need my cum don’t you” he’s desperate to hear you say it. He’s practically begging to hear you asking for his cum. Tell him how much you want his babies. He can make you a mommy. Don’t you want him to make you a mommy?

“Our baby is gonna be so beautiful” he whispers. He isn’t sure if you can hear him but he doesn’t mind as long as you’re still losing your mind calling out his name. 

“That’s right” he growls “Say my name while I fuck a baby into you”

His hand push your thighs further down so he can reach deeper. The way he drags his cock past you slick walls has you shaking. Your words come out slurred. 

“It’s too big” you whine as he goes deeper

“No no you can take it.” he bites he lips continuing his long deep strokes. He knows you can take it. Your eyes roll back when he begins grinding his hips into you. He knows he’s hit the spot he’s been searching for. 

“There she is” he chuckles. 

You can barely contain the moans now. Your body is shaking uncontrollably. 

“Please” you gasp “S-slow down, I’m gonna make a mess” you cry.

Toji loves the sound of that. He thrust pick up speed, fucking into you even harder. 

“That’s it, just like that, make a mess on my cock.”

He’s desperately chasing after his own orgasm. He wants to cum with you. His thrust are sloppy. He’s moaning your name pleading for you to cum for him. 

“Cum-fuck Now” he demands. 

You can’t help the juices the splatter against his abs as he fucks his load into you. The two of you are a moaning mess. You ramble incoherent words paired with his name. His eyes are glued on the sticky mess between the two of you. The squelching sounds of his cock fucking his cum back in fill the room. 

“What a pretty sight this is. I hope it’s a girl” he moans “She’ll have your eyes” 

You can barely give him a reply to focused on the way his cock is still plunging in and out. 

“It’s too much” you slur.

“No baby it’s not enough” he groans “I gotta make sure this tummy is full of my cum. One more just one more okay”

Toji has plans on fucking way more than just one more load into you. He has to fuck you full until he’s sure of it you’ll be the one carrying Megumi’s little sister.

[slvttyplum]

lets be real. when you're getting dicked down and can barely breathe and the only thing on your mind is when this is all going to be over because your pussy was tried, you will say the darnest things are a part of our nature.

suguru was amused by all the things you would say while he was eating you out or his dick was deep inside of you, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot without missing a beat, but he had favorites. one of his favorites that would make him rock hard and not want to stop any time soon was just the phrase "im sorry."

that phrase alone had him running around in his mind. he loved when you could admit defeat and flop down on the bed with your cheeks warm with spilled tears but your legs still opening up for him to take you again, again, and again until he was tired.

your other phrases were cute, of course, expressing how good you felt and the fact that you needed him to go faster and fuck you like he meant it, the whole ordeal, but the phrase "im sorry." was two words that were the equivalent of twenty; it meant a little more to him because that meant he was fucking you like he needed to.

saying 'im sorry." meant he was putting the dick down that were meant for five nights into one night, wrapped up just for you. your vision going blurry, your thighs cramping from how wide they were spread, and an incoming headache that you knew was going to last until the end of the day.

it was all too much, yet you felt fucking amazing every single time. the sex had you high on the moon and blabbering anything that came out of your mouth, and that's when you would say anything. how you were sorry and for him to slow down or stop altogether. what were you sorry for? who knows, it just slipped out of your mouth, but technically, it could be code for something else.

think of it as a white flag being thrown in, but he didn't take it as such, just what he assumed. because whenever he heard it, all he wanted to do was go faster and fuck you until his dick was wet up and your walls were closing so tightly around him that he had no choice but to finish inside of you.

folding you up and pushing your thighs into your chest as he pushed his hips repeatedly into you, not letting a second be used without pushing deeper and deeper inside of you.

"show me how sorry you are." a smirk on his face as he looks at you struggle to take his dick, slowly sliding his hand to your stomach and teasingly pressing down as you whined, knowing how sensitive you were to it. doing this every time he wanted you to say it, it was like a shot of adrenaline, getting you to throw down the towel and give him what he wanted.

he thought about why he loved it when you said these two little words and came to the conclusion that you never said sorry unless he was eight inches inside of you, plowing you down into the mattress back to back with no breaks, so this is the only time he could get you to back down and listen.

suguru thought he was a good tamer who could make you weak in the knees at any moment and say what he wanted to hear—that is, until he got you in bed and had you say anything he wanted, so anything he did to "tame" you outside the bedroom was nothing compared to how he got you to whimper and moan and admit defeat when he had you under him.

[2tarbell]

i need some blue collar rafe pls. i love that man

can u pls do something with like sweetheart!reader !!

maybe like some slow soft passionate sex before he has to go to work at like 5am

and it’s jus so loving n aww ☺️

anyways i love u and ur mind mwah mwah

BLUECOLLAR!RAFE + SWEETHEART!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

it was no secret that rafe had a soft spot for you. the hardworking, calloused man melted into a puddle for those puppy eyes and that little pout.

he knew you hated when he left, but you’d hate it even more if he didn’t wake you up to say goodbye. what started as kisses on the way out turned into sliding his morning wood into your warmth — watching with sleep glazed eyes as the intrusion slowly woke you.

now he can’t even get out of bed without you pulling on his strong arm, dreamy voice begging for him to stay. you were half asleep, eyes still practically closed, but he couldn’t do anything other than indulge you.

it was how you found yourself being spilt in half at 3:45 am, an hour before he needed to be on the road ‘abandoning you’. rafe never laughed at that joke.

he was holding himself above you, forearms caging in your head. with your hair all disheveled and practically drooling — he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“fuck, how’re you so tight?” he heaved.

his gravelly words raised goosebumps across your pleasure-fuzzy, warm body. you were always so pliant this early, letting him stretch your legs over his muscular shoulders. the deeper press of his cock to your g-spot left you unable to speak coherently.

your hands clutched at his head, holding him close and brushing your soft lips against his with every precise thrust. rafe loved you like this — hips canting and so desperate for release, for him to stay.

“please, daddy— please—“

his hips stayed slapping against yours, the creamy ring of your arousal creating a sopping sound. his pubic bone kept hitting your clit perfectly and pulled whines from you. swollen lips letting out a hiccup when he thrusts in to the hilt.

rafe hummed, a low sound in acknowledgment of your state. he lifts his hand to your mouth, your lips parting against the intrusion of his thumb, taking it in to the knuckle.

“god, you’re takin’ me so well,” he mutters, his hips rolling against yours, “bein’ so good… so perfect for me.”

you let out a garbled moan, eyes drooping from sleepiness and the pleasure he was providing. he just knew — knew how to make you unravel and turn dumb.

sucking on his thumb eagerly as you could manage, languid from sleep and the kiss of his mushroom head against your cervix. with a pop he pulled the digit from your mouth, sliding between your bodies and rolling it over your puffy clit. the gathered spit mixed with the sparkling sheen of your arousal, making the flicks of his thumb smooth and effortless.

“oh my god—!”

you choked out, head diving back into the pillow behind you as his slow, deep thrusts make that coil in your tummy feel almost too tight. the feeling all consuming and unfamiliar.

rafe takes the advantage to sit up on his knees, wrapping a large hand around your throat — tight enough to let you know he’s there, he’s got you.

“mmh, i know, shhh — oh, shit — look at that…”

his hand slides around to the back of your neck, tilting your head down to see what he sees. you watch dumbly as you squirt all over him, coating his abs and dick with your cum.

it’s like you’re out of your body, watching yourself come undone while your hearing goes fuzzy with the intensity of your orgasm.

suddenly flooded with warmth as his pants get more whiny, indicating his own imminent release. he leans down, pressing his forehead tightly to yours and giving a few more thrusts for good measure — squelch sounds punctuating each inward movement.

he shudders against you, feeling tingly from the overstimulation of your pussy still clenching around him. he huffs, trying to catch his breath and shifts your leg off shoulder. you whine lowly at the loss of his weight on you, eyes fluttering and struggling to focus on him.

with a ‘okay, shh, kid’, he reaches out, wrapping his arms tight around your waist, leaning down on you again.

your small voice, already halfway back to dreamland, reached his ears in a contented sigh, “looove you, daddy…”

“mmh, i love you, my messy girl,” his teasing voice made a lazy smile spread across your face, wrapping your limbs all around him. trying to keep him as close as possible.

kisses are peppered along your neck, trailing to your lips with a playful smack. your giggles filled the space, light and airy in the quiet of your shared bedroom.

rafe smirked and pressed his hips forward into yours, swallowing the heaving sound you let out as his cock rubs against your pulsing walls. he spoke lowly against your mouth, pushing in and out — skin sticking to yours.

“how ‘bout… you squirt f’me again and i’ll think ‘bout callin’ out...”

[tojisun]

so obsessed with the “my cock is big so it wont fit” / “try me” relationship dynamic ughhhh thinking about this with simon and reader, and how reader’s desperation made them spiral, makes me so giggly

thinking about the way you finger yourself everyday to stretch yourself out for simon; preparing yourself for him. practicing for him.

it becomes a routine; it was mundane, almost, but every time the thought that you’re doing this for simon slithers its way back to the forefront of your mind, you lose yourself—doused in the tendrils of your desire, so powerful it has you clenching on your own fingers.

they never hit deeper, never stretch you out wider, but they scratch the itch to be stuffed and manage to satiate you long enough for the next day to roll by.

it’s a lot worse when you meet up with simon because your core throbs with need, leaving you crossing your legs to give yourself that muted relief. but it’s never enough, is it?

simon’s right there, voice thick like molten lava, viscous as it washes over you. “are you alright, love?”

and you lie, gritting your teeth and clenching your fists tightly, telling him that of course you’re fine. because what else can you say? “i dream of your cock so much that i fuck myself everyday as prep”?

if you do say that, simon won’t ever let you live it down. so you stay quiet, crossing-and-uncrossing your legs at every of his deep laugh or gentle crooning, trying your best to ignore the way his palm squeezes the muscle of your thigh. you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose by now because there’s no way simon actually does naturally talk like this—

it’s all teases and taunts as a whirlpool of petnames dribble from his quirked-up lips. he calls you, baby and darling. he calls you sweetheart and lovie. but then he also calls you pup, doll, pet—anything that makes you gasp, and quiet puffs of breaths wheeze out of your trachea in your own stupor.

“you seem distracted,” he murmurs, his voice a worried croon.

“uh-huh,” you say, not really listening, because simon’s hand is climbing up higher and higher on your thigh.

simon notices your stare, because of course he does, then does…

nothing.

he drops you off to your place that night, and leaves a kiss on your forehead before driving off. you watch from your living room window as he disappears from your line of sight before clambering towards your room, tearing your pants off your body and chucking your little slip of underwear behind you as you do so.

you sink into your plush mattress, knees braced by your softer pillows, before reaching behind you to plunge yourself with your fingers. two of them slide in easily, and you crook them just right until you’re mewling. moaning. crying.

simonsimonsimon—

your orgasm is a sharp rip of euphoric release. but the tidal wave of your ecstasy wafts off into its remnants just as quick because this, fucking yourself, isn’t the fix you want. it isn’t the fix you need.

(that said, making simon buckle was a lot easier said than done.)

you parted your legs yourself, planting your hands on the underside of your thighs to pull them open for simon. simon laughs when he saw this, his pale cheeks so flushed with his own desire.

“hurry,” you whine, all choked-up with your desperation, and simon only croons a warning.

“we need ta’prepare you, pup. i’m too big f’r you.”

his acknowledgment makes you leak, your wanton thoughts turning into slick that gushes out of you. simon laughs, so utterly endeared.

“i prepared myself, si! please put it in!”

simon sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i thought you wanted my cock?”

he waits for you to nod. you do so, careful, as your wet eyes look up at him.

“hmm. so listen to daddy, yeah?”

“okay,” you mumble, too overwhelmed to fight back.

simon smiles, murmurs his praises, and then he’s bringing his head between your legs. you squeak, surprise dotting your vision. you expected simon to prepare you, yes, but you expected his fingers—long, rough, thick—and not his tongue—

“siii-monnnn,” you keen, legs buckling from your hold until they tumble to his back, your strength getting zapped out of you at every lap of simon’s tongue.

it’s so good! so, so good!

simon takes over, hooking your legs over his shoulders himself as he burrowed deeper, nose grinding against the sensitive underside of your sex. his tongue pushes against your walls, sliding between them, and then simon sucks.

fuck! fuck—

sorta pt 02

[criminalamnesia]

Hiii!! I hope you're doing well :))

I just loveee the traitor series. Do you plan on making a part 5 or more?

thank you! here’s part five :)

the other parts can be found in my COD masterlist, which is here

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

I’ll proofread later :))

you stormed out of the gym, eyesight blurry from hot tears. you weren’t crying because you were sad— no. you were furious. furious at how simon was so fucking stubborn. at how he thought he was in the right.

droplets of blood marked your footsteps as you made your way back to the infirmary. you weren’t particularly anxious to be yelled at by the doctor, but getting it over with as soon as possible was ideal.

“bonnie, y’alrigh’?”

soap. you hadn’t even seen him, so lost in your thoughts. you blinked away tears and ignored the scot, continuing to make your way down the hall in silence.

the sound of hurried footsteps was unmistakable behind you. soap wasn’t taking silence for an answer, apparently.

“bonnie, please—” he began, the drawl of his voice catapulting your mind to the past. to better days.

days when soap had patched you up after a fight, his fingers nimble as he stitched up a cut in your thigh.

“s’it hurt?” he spoke, voice gravelly because of his hushed tone.

you shook your head. your head was tilted back, eyes staring up at the ceiling but not truly seeing. you were worried sick— you and soap were the only ones who’d made it to the safe house so far. the others should’ve beaten you there, and now they were over an hour late.

“bonnie, ‘m sure they’re alrigh’,” he told you, poking the needle through skin. you barely felt it, too hyped up on fear and adrenaline.

“they should’ve beaten us here, y’know that—” you began, but he tutted, quickly cutting you off.

“cannae think like tha’, bonnie. they’ll be here any second, aye?”

he stops his stitching, his face tilting up and away from your leg. you faintly register the feeling of his eyes on you.

you felt lost— floating in sea of numbness. your mind is mulling over the millions of possibilities— possibilities in which they never return.

you’d never felt this way before, and the five of you had endured far worse.

the only thing that was different this time was the fact that you and simon were together. you’d never explicitly told the rest of the task force, but they knew.

johnny knew why you were so worked up. he understood.

he reaches a hand up, his dirtied fingers lightly tilting your chin down so you’re face to face.

“y’there?” he asks, his hand dropping from your chin. he moves to squeeze one of your hands, pulling you back down to the ground.

you give a small nod, fingers moving to intertwine with his. he smiles— not his usual playful expression, but a true, grateful, relieved smile.

“im here,” you tell him. he releases your hand, pulling away from your skin, giving your hand a light pat before fully retreating.

“‘m almost finished, yeah? then I’ll go lookin’—”

“no need.”

it’s kyle, breathing heavily as he shuffles into the room. price and ghost are right on his heels, the three men making the room feel much smaller than it did a moment ago.

“you two good?” kyle asks, a small frown on his lips as he takes note of your bloodied leg.

you nod, your eyes flitting from gaz, to price, to simon— who is now moving towards you. he crouches down so he’s eye level with you. you meet his gaze, and although he doesn’t say it, you know what he’s thinking.

he’s relieved, and it’s a deeper relief than usual. it’s heavier, more profound, because he’s started to let you in. you’re more than teammates now, and it doesn’t truly hit ghost until this moment.

“im good,” you tell him quietly. he nods, glances down at where johnny is tying off your stitches.

johnny must notice ghost’s stare, because he breaks his focus and looks up at his lieutenant with a cheeky smirk.

“no worries, LT. made sure to do ma best work,” he grins and shoots the other man a wink, to which ghost grunts, unamused.

the heavy weight of a palm on your shoulder breaks you from the memory. you move without thinking, bloodied fist swinging as you whirl around to attack whoever laid a hand on you.

then you remember— soap.

johnny narrowly dodges your assault, his eyes widened as your fist barely clips him.

“steamin’ jesus!” he speaks, throwing his hands up in surrender and taking a step back from you.

“i was jus’ tryin’ to make sure ya were alrigh’! yer bleedin’, bonnie.”

you blink as you slowly escape your stupor. you’d completely lost yourself in the memory, and you didn’t know why.

probably because your brain was trying to comfort itself the only way it knew how— by seeking comfort from the people closest to you.

old habits, right?

old fucking habits.

“don’t touch me,” you seethe, eyes narrowing as you glare at the scot. he frowns, bites his lip, but doesn’t say anything.

like a kicked puppy. you can’t help but feel sympathetic before you wrestle that feeling back down. he wasn’t sympathetic for you— why should you be for him?

you look at him for a moment longer, taking in his appearance. he looks fine, and that angers you just the slightest bit more.

“look, i— i ken we really messed up, and sorry cannae fix tha’, but please, bonnie. a’least let us try—”

“I don’t owe you anything, mactavish.” you told him, gaze cold as you met his eyes. “and you’re right, sorry can’t fix it. nothing can fix it; so, stop trying.” you step forward, raising a hand as you point a finger into his chest.

“the four of you need to leave me the fuck alone. frankly, I couldn’t care less about how the four of you feel. about how he feels. you did what you did, believed what you believed, and now you have to live with that.”

johnny’s frown deepens as his eyes glance down at the finger you’ve got digging into his sternum.

“you deserve to feel like shit,” you tell him. “and anything you feel— how sorry you are— just know that I suffered a hundred times more in that chair, locked up in that room. so the next time you wanna watch me from outside the infirmary, or you wanna put your fucking hands on me,” your jaw is clenched, fire licking at your veins as you speak to him.

“remember what you did. remember that nothing can fix it. remember that you’re dead to me— all of you are— and that I never would’ve let that happen to any of you.”

“and I hope it hurts like hell, mactavish. I hope it eats you alive, and that you never find peace because you don’t deserve it.”

you drop your hand, your eyes still on his.

“and I hope you tell the rest of them I said that. especially him.”

you turn then, take a steadying breath, and keep walking.

soap watches you go without another word.

“that was stupid,” the doctor chastises you, her lips pressed into a thin line as she examines your knuckles.

“you blatantly went against my one rule for you. I shouldn’t have even let you out of bed, but you’re too damn stubborn! so I thought I’d give you some grace, but there you go— leaving my iv pole in the hall. bloodying your knuckles. I should let one of the newbies patch you up,” she grumbles, her gloved hands cool against your skin.

over the time you’d spent in the infirmary, you and the doctor had formed an odd bond. it was almost as if you were friends, but she always kept things strictly professional.

but you’d catch her giving you sad glances sometimes. you knew she was upset for you, angry for you, but she would never speak on it. that was okay with you.

it was enough to know that someone was on your side.

“sorry, doc. it’s not like it was planned,” you tell her, and her eyes flick up to meet yours. the look on your face told her everything she needed to know.

she didn’t push the topic. instead, she finished patching you up in silence. wrapping your knuckles in bandages, she gave them one last once-over before sending you on your way.

“kicking me out?” you asked her, raising your eyebrows.

she nodded, her eyes scanning the chart in her hands.

“if you’re okay enough to throw a punch, i think you’re okay enough to return to your quarters. unless you want to stay,” she says, and its unspoken, but you know what she’s implying.

unless you want to stay behind that door, guarded from the 141. unless you don’t want to go back to your quarters and see it as you’d left it before they’d tied you up.

unless it would be too painful to leave.

you shook your head. “im good. thank you, doc. really.”

the doctor gave a small smile and nodded. “of course. you’re due back in a week for a check up, alright? I need to check on those bruises and mending bones.”

you nod and give her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “wouldn’t miss it.”

she bids you goodbye before turning and disappearing behind a white curtain. you inhale deeply before heading for the door.

when you step into the hallway, it’s quiet. you pass through base with relative ease, quickly slipping past anyone you come across in the halls.

you don’t see any of the 141, and you’re grateful. you couldn’t handle another interaction with them today— and you didn’t know how much longer you could remain civil.

once you reached your door, you pushed into the dusty darkness of the room. it’d been a while since you’d been in here, and although you were glad to finally be free of the smell and sounds of the infirmary, you weren’t particularly happy to be back in this room.

this room, which was down the hall from the rest of the 141.

this room, which held memorabilia of your time with your team.

this room, which you swore still smelled like simon.

you grit your teeth, willing yourself to stop thinking about him. he was fucking everywhere, and you were starting to believe you’d never be free of him and the 141.

your memories. your pain. your scars. no matter how much you healed and moved on from what happened, it would always be there in the back of your mind. it would sneak up on you when you least expected it; it would haunt your dreams at night.

it would leave you waking up screaming for mercy.

it would keep you untrusting for the years to come.

you flicked on the light and scanned the room. it had been upended, clothes strewn across the floor and picture frames shattered.

in the midst of it all, a vase of long dead flowers sits atop your desk.

there’s a little note hanging off the vase. against your better judgement, you reach for it. the paper feels scratchy against your fingers, and the scribbled pencil inside seems the tiniest bit faded.

your eyes scan the note.

‘You were right.

Hope you can understand.’

— sr

you pick up the vase and throw it against the wall. glass shatters. dead flowers fall to the floor.

your knees give out and you crumple to the floor, sitting amidst reminders of once was.

you let yourself cry for the first time in a while.

[syluslnd]

Hello, I love your headcanons! May I ask for a S/O who secretly doesn't feel attractive??. Until one day they say "I'm so lucky to have you, even tho I'm not pretty" as if they are used to it. Thanks!

Sylus reaction to his S/O who is insecure

You're sitting across from Sylus, having a casual conversation, sipping on tea while he casually scrolls through something on his tablet. It's a peaceful moment, his presence grounding as always but your mind drifts for a second. Absentmindedly, you say “I'm so lucky to have you... even though I'm not pretty."

The words slip out so casually but they hit Sylus like a ton of bricks. His head snaps up and for a moment, there's disbelief in his dark eyes, as though he can't believe what he just heard. His gaze sharpens and without saying a word, he sets his tablet aside.

"Kitten" he says, his voice low and commanding “what did you just say?"

You blink, a little startled by the intensity in his tone. "What? I'm just saying... I'm lucky, you could have someone way more beautiful!"

Before you can react, Sylus stands and pulls you onto him with a firm but gentle grip.You're pressed against his chest and his eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering.

"Sweetie, I don't ever want to hear you say that again”he says, his voice a mix of frustration and something softer, more protective. His hands cup your face, tilting it toward his and he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, then your lips. "You have the prettiest face" he murmurs between kisses, his voice dropping to a husky whisper "and it's all mine."

You can't help but flush under his attention but before you can protest, Sylus grabs your wrist gently, lifting your hand to his lips.

"These hands" he says, kissing your palm "are the prettiest l've ever seen. I love every little part of them." His lips travel down to each finger, teasingly slow, making sure you feel every kiss.

"Sylus, I-" you start to protest, but he silences you with a mischievous grin, his teasing only intensifying.

"Oh, l'm not done" he says, his voice playful yet firm. He runs his hands along your sides, letting them rest on your waist for a moment before pulling you closer. "This waist?Prettiest waist l've ever touched” he purrs, his hands traveling lower until they settle on your hips.

He grips you firmly, not letting you squirm away as his lips press against the curve of your stomach. "And don't even get me started on this tummy, kitten. Prettiest thing I've ever laid my hands on."

You're starting to blush harder now, squirming under his relentless teasing but Sylus's hands slip down to your thighs, his touch sending a shiver up your spine.

"And these thighs?" he says, his voice dipping lower, full of amusement and affection. "Sweetie, I could write poetry about how pretty they are."

"Sylus..." you mumble, flustered and trying to hide your face but he's not having it. He tilts your chin back up, his thumb brushing over your lips.

"Say it" he commands softly, though there's a teasing edge in his tone. "Say you're pretty."

You try to resist, biting your lip but Sylus leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I'll keep going, kitten. Every inch of you is beautiful and I'll remind you of that until you say it yourself."

Your heart races as he kisses your collarbone, his hands still tracing your body as though each part of you deserves a special touch. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing, you manage to whisper,

"I'm pretty."

Sylus smirks, satisfied but not done yet.

"Louder."

You blush deeper, but the way he's looking at you-like you're the most precious thing he's ever seen-gives you courage. "I'm pretty."

He chuckles softly, his hand cupping your cheek once more. "Damn right you are and don't you ever forget it."

[archiveofvirtue]

I absolutely adore the fic you just put out with Rafe! Hit me deep as someone that has been cheated on. You have a talent! <3 Rafe request idea! It just hit me, but I bought a sweater today from the Mens section at a store (better quality). Maybe you could do Reader and Rafe dating. He is falling hard and is super infatuated with her, one day she forgets that certain sweater at his place (which clearly on the label is for men from a mens store) and he is absolutely heartbroken thinking that she is cheating on him. Maybe he snaps, but more so in a super heartbroken, teary eyed and soul crushing way, lots of angst since you are so good at it!!!!

SWEATER WEATHER! ⸻ rafe cameron

notes / tysm for the request!! i loved writing this. may have gone overboard and made it a bit too dramatic but we love us some angst in this household !

content / rafe cameron x fem!reader, bf!rafe, angst, rafe with trauma, established relationship, accusations of cheating, comfort, 1.1k words

summary / when rafe finds out that your sweater is from the men’s section he immediately freaks. His deep rooted trauma and pain come to the surface and the fear of losing you almost ruins everything.

You loved oversized sweaters. There was something about the way they swallowed you up in warmth, like a cozy hug you could wear. So when you wandered into the menswear section one afternoon and spotted the perfect oversized sweater—super soft, way too big, and in a deep charcoal gray—you couldn't resist. It was perfect for cool evenings with Rafe, wrapped up on his couch while you two watched a movie or just talked about nothing.

You bought it on impulse, smiling to yourself as you imagined Rafe teasing you about how it was big enough to fit him. You wore it the next time you visited him, not really going into detail as you were too caught up with other things, feeling completely at ease in his presence.

Rafe was everything you wanted—strong, confident, but sweet in a way you hadn't expected when you first met him. He made you laugh with his gruff exterior and soft heart. He made you feel safe, loved.

While Rafe, for his part, was falling deeper and deeper in love with you every day. He'd catch glimpses of you in moments you didn't even realize he was watching—laughing softly to yourself at a text, tucking your hair behind your ear, or wrapping yourself in one of those oversized sweaters like you were wrapping yourself in comfort. You were everything good in his world, and he'd do anything to keep you close.

So that evening, like so many others, you two stayed up late, talking until you finally kissed him goodnight and left for home, too tired to remember to grab the sweater you'd draped over his chair.

Rafe found it the next morning, tossed casually over the back of his chair, and at first, he smiled. It still smelled like you—vanilla and something sweet, something comforting.

Then he saw the label.

Men's store. Size large.

The words hit him like a freight train. He knew you loved oversized sweaters, but this... this wasn't just big. It was from a men's section, clearly not something meant for you, at least not at first. His heart started to pound, thoughts spinning out of control. Who had you gotten this from? Who were you spending time with when he wasn't around?

He tried to push the thoughts away, but they clung to him like poison. He could see it in his mind—you smiling at someone else, laughing, falling into someone else's arms, and it tore at him. The image of you, with your oversized sweater, now felt like a lie, like everything he thought you two had built was a fragile illusion.

So when you came back over the next day, something was off. The moment you stepped through the door, you could feel the tension in the air. Rafe was a mess of nerves and heartbreak. He tried to keep it together, but the moment he saw you, something inside him broke. The sweater was still in his hand, crumpled and worn, and without thinking, he thrust it towards you.

"Who is he?" he choked out, his voice raw, filled with emotion he could no longer control.

You stared at him, confusion flooding your eyes. "What? Rafe, what are you talking about?"

"This. It's not yours. It's from a men's store. You left it here, and now I can't stop thinking... you're seeing someone else, aren't you? Someone gave you this."

For a moment, you couldn't speak. You could only stare at him, confusion giving way to a horrible realization. He thought you were cheating on him. Your heart sank, seeing how much pain he was in, how deeply he was hurt by something that wasn't even real.

"Rafe," you whispered, reaching out to him, but he pulled back, his face crumbling with heartbreak.

"Don't lie to me, y/n," he said, his voice breaking. "I can't handle it if you lie to me."

Tears brimmed in his eyes, and you felt your own chest tighten at the sight of him like this—so vulnerable, so broken by his own fears. You hadn't realized how much you meant to him until now, seeing him unravel over something as small as a sweater.

"Rafe, it's my sweater," you said gently, voice steady despite the ache in your own heart. "I bought it from the men's section. I liked how big it was, that's all. No one gave it to me. I promise. I would never do that to you."

But Rafe couldn't bring himself to believe you. Not yet. His mind was trapped in the fear of losing you, of being second in your heart to someone else. Like it was with his dad and Sarah. The tears fell then, and he couldn't stop them, his chest heaving with the weight of his own insecurities.

Without hesitation, you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him despite his resistance. He was stiff at first, but you didn't let go. "I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, voice soft but firm as you rested your head against his chest. "It's just a sweater, Rafe. You're the only one I want."

He stood there, frozen in your embrace, and slowly, painfully, the truth began to sink in. You weren't lying. The sweater wasn't a sign of betrayal, just a silly, oversized piece of clothing you liked. And he had let his fears nearly destroy what you two had.

Slowly, his body began to relax in your arms, his breath ragged as he fought to hold back the tears. His arms came up to wrap around you, and you could feel the weight of his emotions in the way he held you, like he was afraid you might slip away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with regret, his face buried in your hair. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes soft and full of understanding. "It's okay," you said quietly, brushing a tear from his cheek. "We're okay, Rafe."

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for reassurance, for any sign that what you two had wasn't slipping through his fingers. You could see the fear there, the way he'd built you up in his mind as something precious, something fragile, and how easily that fear had spiraled into heartbreak.

"We're okay," you repeated, holding him close, letting him feel your warmth, your presence, until the weight of his fears finally began to lift.

And for the first time since he'd found that sweater, Rafe allowed himself to believe you. He needed to trust you, to get over the fear of being abandoned. And deep down he knew that you could be the one to take his pain away.

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags 🏷️ @starkeysprincess @gibson-g1rl @beausling @drewsarms @nxptvn @rafescokewhore

[five-bi-five-mind]

PLEASE MAKE SUGAR MOMMY!WANDA. It can be when she already left Westview and is now living a lonely life alone missing her children. Then there goes new neighbor R who just left home and is struggling financially OMG!

I loved every single one of your Wanda fics and I'll never shut up about it 👀

Everything Again

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff & fem!Reader

Genre: Smut & Dark-ish fic

Words: 8K+

Summary: Wanda has nothing in her life that brings her joy once she let go of Westview, but then she meets you. She makes sure to be everything you want and need, and you’re all she needs… for a while. But what happens when some of her wants from Westview come creeping back? Can Wanda suppress it or will she do whatever it takes to have everything she wants again?

Warnings: light stalking, not the healthiest relationship, Wanda is controlling, toxic!Wanda, mind manipulation, top!Wanda, bottom!R, rough sex, magic strap-on, slight breeding kink, degradation, magic restraints, light choking, slight dubcon, maybe possibly unknown risk of pregnancy but no actual pregnancy.

A/N: I hate this title but I couldn't think of a better one... Anyways I kinda took a dark turn with this request that's my bad. Enjoy folks!

When Wanda saw you, she knew she had to have you. It was like the stars aligned all of a sudden and a splash of color came into her bleak world for once since leaving Westview. She’d been wandering all over since that… incident. All she felt for months was this horrible, nagging, hollowness and she had no idea how to solve it. Part of her wondered if she filled this void with something to at least stave off the boredom, maybe it would be better. But so far, her only method of occupying her time was figuring out the scope of her power. And every time she dabbled with that it just felt like the hole inside her ripped open even deeper. 

She had made her way to a small college town when she bumped into you. Or, more accurately, when you smacked into her, your eyes glued to your phone at the time. When your body collided with Wanda’s she felt anger bubble inside her for a moment and that familiar tingle at her fingertips as she decided how she might act in response to your inconsideration.  But when your panicked eyes looked up at hers, suddenly it was like the fuse inside her was doused with ice cold water. 

Wanda couldn’t help but smirk at your immediate apologetic response once you realized you were now fully pressed against an utter stranger. At the time, you were so panicked over the email you had just received that you forgot to look up. But when you felt strong hands bracing your elbows as you hit another person’s body like hitting a brick wall, it brought you crashing into reality. The guilt and embarrassment you felt were burning on your cheeks, but the eyes that met yours were only angry for a brief moment. After yours locked with hers they shifted from anger to surprise and then, curiously enough for the both of you, to intrigue. 

“I– I am so sorry,” you sputtered as you attempted to take a step back. Key word there was attempted. To your confusion, the woman in front of you didn’t seem to want to let go. 

It surprised Wanda too, but not in a bad way. The moment she heard your voice things lit up even more. That splash of color turned into a sea and she didn’t want to let go just yet. Her hands wrapped tighter around your elbows and for a moment she didn’t even care that it could possibly startle you. She just knew that for some odd reason, having you, this wide-eyed, terrified random girl she bumped into on the street, was bringing part of her back to life in a way. 

“Are you okay?” Wanda still didn’t let go. If anything, she pulled you ever so slightly closer as she swore she could feel your heartbeat like crazy against her own chest.  

“Oh, um, yes.” You again attempted to take a step back. “Thank you, um…”

“Wanda,” she replied and finally dropped her hold on you. It didn’t go unseen– the disappointed frown she had for a moment as you took a wide step back. 

“Wanda,” you echoed. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve watched where I was going. Are you alright?” Your head tilted and your eyebrows scrunched as you asked her that and Wanda was taken aback for a moment that you even thought to ask. It had been so long since she was asked anything if she were being honest.

“What made you so distracted?” Wanda ignored your question and chose to ask one of her own. She didn’t even know you, but she realized she suddenly wanted to learn everything about you, starting with what had you so wrapped up in a tiny screen that you ran straight into another human being. 

“Oh…” Your eyes dropped to the ground and Wanda took note of the way you shuffled nervously in front of her. “Um, nothing just– It wasn’t something that should’ve distracted me like that. I’m sorry for running into you.” You were trying to go at this point. The way this stranger was looking at you had you anxious and you had no idea why. The fact that she was also asking you this rather than just going on her own way also made you feel self-conscious and scrutinized by the woman before you. 

Wanda just blinked back at you, the frown on her face showing yet again for a moment. Your eyes searched hers and the confusion in them grew. Did this total stranger really want to know your business? If you were to say it out loud to her, surely you would seem pathetic. But she still stood, waiting for you to answer what was so important that you completely missed the person standing still as you walked right into her.

“Okay,” you sighed, “I got an email about my funding. I’m a– Or I guess was a student here. My funding got pulled. No funding means no grad school… So I have to figure that out, I guess.” 

There was a moment of silence as Wanda just stared down at you. Her facial expression was impossible to read for a moment. It was pensive, almost neutral and you waited for any sort of response to her. 

“I’ll figure it out,” you continued for whatever reason. Trying to fill the silence as Wanda just kept staring. “There’s other programs, other schools. I can apply again.”

“I’m sure it will all work out,” Wanda finally said. She put her hand on your shoulder for a moment, trailing it over you as she finally began to walk past you. When her hand left you and she went her own way, you just stood there stunned. 

You thought that encounter with her would plague your mind for days, but as if a switch had flipped suddenly that strangeness that was filling your mind faded into nothing.

—---------------------------------

That encounter may have left you utterly confused, but to Wanda it made things so clear. She finally had a plan, something to do. She was wandering aimlessly since Westview with nothing to fill the time. She had said she would find her children again in some dimension, somewhere, but for she had no real leads. She was losing hope, she was spiraling– That is until you bumped into her.

The gears in Wanda’s mind began to turn the minute you confessed to why you were so distracted that fateful day. And ever since then, she was going to put a plan into motion. First, she had to learn just a little bit more about you. But it wouldn’t do if you suddenly left the place she had found you in, so she tweaked some things. Starting with an anonymous donation to your department (of which she found quite quickly from just a few days of watching you) so that they might be able to fund their graduate students– Specifically you– and that you might be able to stay and continue your research and studies while she worked on a way to draw you closer to her. 

After a few weeks of watching you, she quickly learned that despite her donation, they didn’t give you enough funding to comfortably live on. You ran from job to job when you weren’t on campus studying and Wanda quickly decided, if you were to be her new fixation, then having multiple jobs would not do. You had her undivided attention, so now she wanted the majority of yours. She decided you could have your studies, but the rest of you… The rest of you she was going to make hers. 

It only took her a few more weeks after watching you carefully to approach you again. One thing about her new powers was that, rather than captivating a whole town like she did with Westview, she could easily– and with a lot less catastrophic damage– erase a small part of people’s memories. Namely, their memory that Wanda even existed in the first place. It wasn’t possible for the whole world to forget her, but a small college town she definitely could handle. Just another reason to keep you inside this town and not let you wander much further. With her handle on this new aspect of her own power, she took it one step further with you, erasing the very first day you two met. That day would always replay in Wanda’s mind, but she knew it confused and frightened you and she needed to paint herself in the best light possible when she finally approached you face-to-face again.

It was quite easy to approach you this time too. She posed as a professor in your own university. She twisted and turned the minds of the university until it was as if she had been there a long time. An established part of a university department outside of your own. She knew your schedule too, so she knew that you would always sit at the corner of the university coffee shop for about an hour in between classes. That’s where she finally approached you– or, to be more accurate, she made you approach her.

She almost felt bad about it, but at the same time she knew it would be her way in. She knew your eyes would be buried in a book as you walked to your usual spot and she used that moment to use an invisible force to trip you. And, like the knight in shining armor she wanted to appear to you as, she swooped in front of you and caught you skillfully. 

The first look you gave her was back on your face this time too. The panic and embarrassment that burned in your cheeks as you looked up at your savior was evident on your face. Wanda gave you the best, charming smile she could muster, but if you were being honest it made you feel almost as if you were a fly that landed right in a spider’s web. 

“Are you okay?” Wanda said the same line to you and you nodded, immediately trying to apologize like last time. 

Wanda knew by now that this was your personality. You were shy and anxious, but also patient and kind. All the things that were the opposite of how she considered herself and all the things that had her captivated by you. 

“Yeah, I– I’m good,” you again tried to step back and this time Wanda let you. “I’m so sorry! Thank you for catching me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Wanda chuckled as her hands fell to her sides. “What are you reading? Must be interesting.” The crooked smile she gave you was what finally drew you in. It was charming and warm and the way her eyes sparkled had you wanting to see more. When Wanda took in the wide, curious eyes looking back at her she knew she had you. 

And that was really all it took for her to wrap you up in her web and never let you go.

—------------------------------------------------

In the following months things happened rather quickly. After the day you had officially met Wanda, you saw her way more often. She would always sit near you at the coffee shop, or bump into you on other parts of campus, until finally you two established a date. And from that date things happened even quicker. It was like you blinked and suddenly your whole life was wrapped up in Wanda’s. You quickly said goodbye to your rundown, tiny apartment and moved into Wanda’s extravagant house right outside of town. Instead of taking the city bus to and from campus, she was driving you whenever and wherever you needed to go. There was now a lot more free time in your life to focus on both your studies and this new relationship you found yourself in with Wanda, as she had insisted you quit your job. That she would take care of every single one of your wants and needs. And how could you say no to that? Although, it was all a little too fast for your comfort, if you were being honest, but at the same time it was Wanda… You couldn’t picture your life without her from the very moment you met her and she made it clear that she intended for you to never find out what it would be like without her in it. 

She took care of you, she took care of everything. You needed only to focus on two things: her and school. Wanda loved the passion you had for studying, so she let you keep one thing outside of her. But she was still near, even if you weren’t aware. She was always near. 

But as months stretched on and her attachment to you became even stronger, things shifted a bit. She was feeling… anxious. The life she had back in Westview began to pop up in her mind again and she felt that hole inside her chest once more– The one that you had filled when she first saw you. There was only one part of her Westview life that kept running through her mind though. It wasn’t Vision. No, it was never Vision. Not when she had you. You were a brighter light in her life than Vision ever had been. A deeper love that felt soft and gentle, even if she had orchestrated a lot of events in order to make the two of you happen. 

Vision wasn’t what kept her up lately. It was her boys. There were dreams of them, flashes of them in her daily life. It was almost as if the more she loved you, the more she missed them. You had healed this wound, but in the nights that you wrapped your arms around her and fell asleep, she felt that familiar tug she had in Westview– the one that longed for a family. A life of peace and completeness. That made the wound feel fresh again. 

So Wanda began to withdraw. She wasn’t going to let you go, but for now, as she contemplated these feelings and how to fix them, she needed time and distance. Each time you smiled at her, each time you kissed her, that tug in the pit of her stomach felt stronger and stronger. The longing grew– The thought of recreating a Westview with you was tempting. But she knew how well that worked out last time. 

Late at night when this longing grew particularly strong, Wanda would sneak away when you were fast asleep to contemplate her options. She had hoped that you wouldn’t notice her withdrawal, but when your whole world was Wanda… How could you not? 

As these days of dealing with a withdrawn Wanda stretched on, you were getting restless. Something was clearly bothering Wanda and it was causing a rise of anxiety in you. At first you tried to approach it gently, but Wanda iced you out. The problem grew and Wanda warned you not to poke at it, but you couldn’t just leave it be. 

With your life being filled with Wanda now– Her withdrawing left you painfully lonely. So you began pushing unspoken limits Wanda set for you. Fights started and time and time again Wanda would shut you down. 

The more she did so, the more it felt she was putting you on the shelf. Like you were her little play thing and she was bored of you. There was an ache in you that you didn’t quite understand and the more confusion she left you with the closer you were to being utterly done. How you could even live without Wanda, you weren’t sure, but you were almost a little tempted to figure it out. 

There was no way you could ever leave Wanda, though. You didn’t want to, even if she was withdrawn, you still loved her deeply. But you wanted attention, acknowledgement, anything. 

Unfortunately for you, the only way you knew how to get that was to push her buttons more and more each day. 

You had no idea what was going through Wanda’s mind, but she had been particularly aggravated lately. What you didn’t know was that Wanda was stuck in trying to find the solution to the feelings that were plaguing her. She had played with an idea, but knew that in order to do so she would out her true nature and risk the memories she took from you to come flooding back. What would you do then, if you remembered who Wanda was? Her name was all over the news and the whole world knew she had fallen far from where she was when she helped the avengers. That was so long ago to Wanda. It was a different time, a different her. One that didn’t know her potential and didn’t know her own heart until she finally found all the pieces. 

The problem was, she’s never had all those pieces all at the same time. She wanted you and her boys. She wanted the picture perfect family that she had in Westview, but she wanted it with you this time. She wanted you as her little housewife and mother of her twins. In the past week she had been engrossed in ways to make that happen. She had a theory that if she tried to create her children again it would be the same children she once had. All she needed was to share her DNA in some way with you and a little bit of magic to add to that. Then, all would be right in her eyes if she had them in this way. For whatever reason, she felt that that was the true way the universe was meant to be. If she built this family with you, then it would never be taken from her ever again. The tricky part was actually creating them with you in a way that didn’t have you questioning how it was even scientifically possible. That would have you questioning a lot about who she is and what she could do. And she didn’t want to ruin what she established with you just yet. Even if the more you pushed at her the more she was tempted to say let go of her control.

She knew you were getting fed up with it too and the more you pushed her the more she contemplated letting her resolve slip. She tried her best to keep you at arms length while she tried to figure out her predicament. But she was feeling stuck with no alternative other than to reveal herself and what she could do. She kept going in circles to feel less stuck, but the more stuck she felt with this problem the angrier she was. And unfortunately, the angrier she was the easier it was for you to push her buttons. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, it only took one final push for her to actually snap. When you thought of Wanda breaking, you thought it would mean she would be forced to talk to you. Never did you expect the outcome of your plans that night. 

Your classmates had invited you out for drinks and, since you met Wanda, your answer was usually no. But tonight things were different. Wanda was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t pick you on campus. She was kind enough to warn you to take an Uber and she would pay, but you were still angry about it. So when you were invited out, you said yes. 

Saying anything other than no would’ve already irritated Wanda. Even a maybe. She didn’t like the idea of you going out to bars, especially without her. Usually if you wanted to do something with anyone else you’d at least ask her and she would be nearby to make sure you were safe and no one was tempted to take advantage of the time she was allowing them to have alone with you. But this time, you weren’t even going to ask. You were just going to go. Something you hadn’t done since before Wanda.

You knew what you were doing. It was all entirely intentional. Right down to the outfit you picked and the way you walked past Wanda, making just enough noise to get some of her attention. Even if she didn’t look up at you.

“Where are you going?” Wanda asked as she flipped a page of a strange book she was reading.

“Out,” you muttered. Even if Wanda wasn’t looking at you, you wanted your tone to register that you were rolling your eyes at her. The fact that she didn’t even look up just pissed you off even more. 

“I’m not planning to leave the house tonight.” She still wasn’t looking at you and that just made your hands ball into fists as you got more and more offended by her lack of attention. 

“I know,” you scoffed. “I don’t have to go everywhere with you.”

Suddenly, an eerie silence filled the room. You watched Wanda’s face as she kept her eyes glued to the book she was reading. There was a slight change in it, a tightening of her jaw, but she still didn’t look at you. 

“You know that’s not how this works,” Wanda’s response was calm, but you could tell you were starting to get to her. Never had you been defiant to her. She gave you everything you wanted and you did whatever she asked. There was an unspoken rule to go where Wanda goes, be where she wants you and an even deeper unspoken rule to not question or defy any of the other arrangements you two have made. But tonight, as you watched her jaw clench and unclench and realized you were getting under her skin, you decided to push more. 

“So?” You shrugged and that silent uncomfortable feeling in the room felt like it intensified the very second you uttered that one word. “I don’t see the harm in going out just for one night on my own.”

Wanda’s eyes slowly slid from her book to your face the moment you uttered the phrase on your own. That definitely wasn’t something you should’ve said to her. There was an understanding that anything you did “on your own” was something that Wanda would be nearby for. What you were asking for was a night completely away from Wanda, and it was breaking the biggest unspoken rule she had for you. This was new waters you were treading, but you were so sick of her lack of interest that you didn’t care. Any attention from her was a change from whatever was happening now. 

“You’re not going,” she ordered as she snapped her book shut and stood up. 

You just snorted at that, anger boiling in your blood as you stood your ground. “Why not? You seem preoccupied with just about anything other than me. What’s the harm?”

She was right in front of you now, her jaw was clenching and unclenching like it had before, but this time you looked down for a brief second and noticed her fists were doing the same. Still, though, you wanted to keep pushing. 

“With you dressed like that,” Wanda warned, “I think you know exactly what harm it could do.” You knew what you were doing when you got dressed. A tight, cropped shirt and even tighter short shorts to match. It was something meant to catch the eye of others and definitely something you knew would get an extra rise out of Wanda to add to that. What you didn’t know was what exactly Wanda meant. She was already picturing in her mind the droves of people who would come trying to pick you up at whatever trashy bar you decided to go to. And when she pictured people trying to touch what was hers, she also pictured all the ways in which she could make them suffer so much as daring to think they could have you. 

You were playing with fire and on some level you knew that, but something in you couldn’t stop pushing her buttons. Even if you didn’t know what exactly you were getting into, even if you didn’t know to the full extent how possessive Wanda could be of you and how much of a monster she was capable of being when provoked. 

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” You shrugged again and Wanda’s eye twitched as you kept challenging her resolve. “At least someone will appreciate it.”

If you thought the tension was bad when Wanda stood up, now it was suffocating you. Wanda just stared back at you, her eyes burning with anger. In fact, she looked so angry you swore you saw a red flash in her eyes.  For a moment, you kind of just stood there, waiting for Wanda to respond, but on her part she was trying to calm the possessive rage that you just caused to boil over inside of her. 

Part of her wanted to force you to your knees and have you beg forgiveness for defying her like this. You hadn’t even done anything yet, but just the idea and threat of disobeying her wishes had her furious. She was so close to figuring out how to have everything she wanted and now of all times you were trying to defy her? Trying to let a pathetic stranger swoop in on you at some dive bar when you know you’re hers? No, this was unacceptable to her. Never have you done anything other than be good for her. The way you so easily obeyed her is a small part of what drew her to you in the first place. And she did realize she had been neglectful, but couldn’t you see it was for your own good? For the good of the family Wanda was trying to rebuild with you? The more she had you the more she wanted. She had you completely already, that was true, but she wanted you in a way she wasn’t sure you were ready for. In a way that would show you exactly who Wanda really was. 

So in order to find a solution to the raging beast inside of her that wanted to claim you and have her family back, she thought it was best to withdraw.Clearly she over calculated and now here she was. But as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, daring her with your eyes to do something, suddenly that’s when all her control just snapped. You felt the shift too, even if you didn’t understand it. It was like the calm before the storm. Wanda took a sharp, deep breath through her nose before exhaling and taking a step into your personal space. 

“Okay,” Wanda growled. “That’s about enough.” In a blink of the eye you were thrown over her shoulder. The way you yelped as you felt yourself hoisted off the ground echoed through the room. You knew Wanda was strong, but you didn’t know she was that strong. She had you thrown over her shoulder like it was nothing. Your hands grasped at her shirt, terrified she would drop you at any moment, but it was as if she had no struggle at all. 

“Wanda, what the fuck?” You cried as she walked towards the bedroom. With a grunt, you landed hard on the mattress. You couldn’t even begin to sit up before she was already on the bed with her legs on either side of your waist, essentially pinning you down onto the bed with her body.

“Language,” she hissed as she started to pull her own shirt off before immediately reaching for yours. 

“How did you- What- When did you get so strong?” You couldn’t collect your thoughts. They were scrambled up by the display of sheer strength and also maybe a little bit by the fact that Wanda was sitting on top of you without a shirt. 

“You wanted attention and now you’re questioning how I give it to you?” Wanda’s voice was dripping with irritation as she began to yank both your own shirt and bra off of you. 

“I– No, but…” You were now naked from the waist up beneath Wanda. Her eyebrow arched as you struggled to find your words. You definitely knew your little stunt would piss her off, but you didn’t expect this outcome. 

“Now tell me,” Wanda’s nails began dragging down your chest as she spoke, “why would you want anyone else’s attention, when I’m all that you need?” Her nails dug down a little harder as they reached your stomach and you hissed at the slight sting of the red marks they left behind.

“Tell me,” Wanda ordered again as her hands made their way back up to your chest. “I give you everything you could possibly want.” The way she was palming at them was rough, but still it had you squirming underneath her. “So why,” she took your nipples between her fingers and pinched just a little harder than she usually would, causing a slight pain as she spoke, “would you ever think about anyone else?”

You winced as she palmed at you even harder, but you couldn’t help the flood of shame at the arousal it sent straight to your core. The way she was handling you, like an object— like something to be owned— was new. Sure she could be intense when she touched you, but she was never intentionally rough like she was being right now. She never purposely caused any kind of pain, even if right now it was mild and (to your surprise) enjoyable. 

“It– it wasn’t like that!” You were stumbling over your words as you began to feel Wanda grind down into you. It wasn’t slight or subtle, the way she was moving her hips. She was pressing your body harder into the mattress as she dragged herself against you from where she was straddling your waist. 

“Hm, then what was it like?” Wanda’s tone was degrading. She was practically seething on top of you as she spoke. “Because to me it sounded like my little toy wanted someone else to play with her?” 

“I–” You couldn’t stop the wince at her harsh words. She had called you that before, but still there was a loving inflection in her voice when she did in the past. This tone she had now, the way she said, it was filled with nothing but rage. “Wanda, I don’t want anyone else. No– No, I… I just wanted you to-“ 

“Oh look at that,” Wanda interrupted, her tone utterly condescending. “Now you’re trying to cover your tracks.” You watched curiously as one of Wanda’s hands left your body. “I thought you understood when we started that you’re mine. I can’t have a single ounce of doubt in your mind about that fact. Now I need to remind you of who you belong to. Who owns you.” She hissed that word and your eyes widened as you watched her fingers twist and twirl in the air, a red glow following them as they moved. In a blink the rest of your clothes just vanished. Your eyes widened for a moment as you stared up at Wanda. But then, in another flash of red you felt your hands fly up and pin themselves above your head. No matter the struggle, you felt a constant, unwavering invisible force hold your wrists in place. 

“Wanda, what— how did you do that?” Your eyes shifted from above you, then to her fingers and finally to her face. Now you definitely noticed the matching red swirl in her irises. 

“I think it’s time I properly taught you just how important it is for you to be good, so that we can have everything we want.” If she heard your question she was clearly ignoring it. Your mind was racing trying to keep up with what was going on top of you. Her words definitely confused you too, but you didn’t get the chance to question them again. 

Wanda looked down for a moment and saw the look in your eyes before rolling her own and pressing her glowing fingers to your temple. In a split second you suddenly realized exactly who she was. Your heart raced and you gulped, but oddly you weren’t as terrified as you were just shocked. 

The Wanda Maximoff was on top of you telling you that you belonged to her. You should be running and screaming for help, or at least attempting to. All the news headlines and stories flooded your memory and you knew exactly how they painted her. She could end you in a second; you should be afraid. But for some reason, you weren’t. Instead, seeing this powerful woman on top of you and thinking back to all the times she told you she loved you, that she would take care of you, that she wanted only you. Knowing the truth, it stunned you, but not in a bad way. 

“Are you scared?” Wanda’s tone was still the same, taunting and demeaning as it was before. Only this time, you saw a little beyond that. There was a seriousness there. A curiosity of what your reaction was. Wanda thought if you reacted badly she could just go back to how it was. Wipe your mind of her existence entirely yet again, restart with you, and enjoy the dynamic you two had again. Was it a healthy plan? No. She would have to start from scratch again. Get you to fall for her once more. But Wanda’s obsession with you has gone far beyond the point of return. She would do what was necessary.

As if to purposely test your limits, Wanda reached for your throat, pressing ever so slightly. “Are you?” She repeated as she leaned down to look you in the eye.

You swallowed hard for a second, already feeling the slight strain on your throat as you did. “No,” you breathed out lowly. You weren’t at all. You realized all you wanted was her attention and finally she was giving it to you. Was this secret that kept her so withdrawn lately? “No, Wanda, I’m not.” 

You were nervous, but you weren’t scared. No matter what Wanda was before, no matter what she has become now, you were hers from the moment you crashed into her. A memory that was returned to you. If she hadn’t wiped that one, you would’ve still been drawn to her and fallen for her just as hard as you did when she was posing as a professor. 

Wanda knew your acceptance was true and took your answer for what it was. This moment right now opened so many doors for her. The void she had been feeling, it could finally be fixed in the way she wanted to fix it. Things in her life were falling into place. As Wanda sat atop of you she finally— for the first time in her entire existence —felt like she was winning. Not once did she ever feel so powerful until this very moment.

“Now that you know the truth…” Wanda trailed off in a low voice. She was thinking aloud more than she was talking to you. Her eyes stayed locked with yours but you could tell she was pondering something. When you saw the now familiar swirl of red in her eyes you began to question what Wanda has in store for you. 

“Do you love me?” Wanda now spoke directly to you. Her eyes were still glowing red as her hand finally relaxed against your throat.

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly. Wanda’s face melted at your admission. The harsh, contemplative look she was wearing shifted into a soft smile finally. It was perhaps the first time in weeks she gave you a glimpse of her softness and you reveled in it. 

But after just a split second it was replaced with a bigger smile, one that gave you that feeling of being prey caught in a trap again. It was a feeling you weren’t unfamiliar with. And, if you were being honest, you enjoyed the thrill you got from seeing it. “We’re going to try something,” Wanda purred as she sat back up, but remained on top of you. “Something that we’ll both thoroughly enjoy.” 

You looked at her with curious eyes, squirming underneath her only slightly as she shifted and began to move between your legs. 

“It will give us both what we’ve been wanting,” Wanda continued as she now knelt between your legs, holding them open for her as she spoke. Her eyes raked down your body, from your flushed cheeks all the way down to the wetness that dripped from your thighs. She couldn’t help the satisfied hum at the sight, thinking this might be a lot easier of a task than she thought it would be. 

With another swirl of red in her eyes and a matching red shimmer around her twirling fingers, you followed her eyes down as the rest of her clothes disappeared and something materialized. Wanda’s smile grew as something you couldn’t fully see appeared between her legs.

You strained your neck up as best you could from the pillow, but with your arms still pinned above your head it was difficult. You caught what looked like shimmering, deep red straps resting around her waist and could only imagine what those led to. 

When Wanda leaned forward and you felt a cool, silicon tip pushing between your folds, your suspicions were confirmed. The contact made the both of you shiver, and as you felt Wanda run the toy slowly from your entrance to your clit and back down, you could see her taking sharp, deep breaths.

“This is going to be… incredible,” Wanda practically hissed. “I’ll be able to feel everything, to feel every part of you when I make you cum.”

Wanda hadn’t even begun fucking you and the idea of it turned you on so much you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from your lips in a response. 

“And then,” Wanda lined the tip up as she spoke, “I’m going to fill you with my cum and hopefully it will work.” With that she pushed forward and you both took a sharp breath at the feeling. 

Wanda eased in as slowly as she could while fighting her every instinct to just ram into you and fuck you until she felt you fall apart. But she knew that at least for the start of this, she should go slow. This was, after all, the first time she’s fucked you using her magic. It was the first time she’s fucked you using something this big too. For all she knew, you’ve only ever had experience with her fingers. She didn’t want to break you— not completely. But as her cock sank into you inch by inch she was beginning to slip.

“God this feels better than I imagined,” Wanda hissed as she bottomed out inside you. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?” 

Your teeth were digging into your lip as you tried to stop yourself from crying out from the sheer feeling of being so full. To have Wanda fill your pussy in a way she never has before, it was taking all your willpower not to turn into a moaning, whining mess before she even really began to fuck you.

Wanda’s hips were currently completely pressed between your legs and you were taking her so surprisingly well. You were tight, but the way you squeezed Wanda’s magic strap was delicious. There was a pause for a moment— just a brief second for you to adjust to the size of her toy. But it was all she could manage to give you. The sensation of actually feeling you in this way had her head swimming and she needed more. 

She pulled the toy out slowly, so much so that only the tip stayed inside you. Her chest was already heaving as she looked down at you. The way her eyes were filled with hunger made you shiver as you looked back up at her, restrained, helpless, and thirsty for more. Your legs spread open for her even more without her prompting you and she groaned at the sight before her. Your wetness smeared on the parts of the toy that she could see, your arms still pinned over your head. It was all too much. She couldn’t help what she did next. Her hips snapped suddenly and her cock pushed deep into you. 

The cry you let out echoed through the room and Wanda swore she’s never heard a prettier sound. Her hips pulled back again until just the tip was left in you. Again she snapped them forward hard, making your eyes screw shut as you cried her name. 

“Fuck, if I knew it would feel like this…” Wanda groaned as she began to pump inside you at a brutal pace. Her hands were on your thighs, nails digging into your skin as she kept your legs spread open. Your hands were balled into fists above your head as she fucked you. You couldn’t stop the moans and cries that fell from your lips even if you wanted to. 

As Wanda kept fucking you, she fell forward, her entire body pressed against yours, as her lips captured your own. You whimpered into the kiss as her tongue filled your mouth much in the same aggressive way as the way she was currently fucking the toy into you. 

Wanda’s hands still had a hold of your thighs as she hoisted your legs over her waist, giving her a better angle to fuck the toy into you. You struggled to keep up with the way Wanda was licking into your mouth and biting at your lips. Her cock was hitting a spot inside of you, you didn’t even know would feel as good as it did. Your knuckles were turning white as your whole body began to shake from the sheer pleasure she was giving you. Even though you felt as if your whole body was on the brink of exploding, Wanda just kept going.

When Wanda began to moan more and more against your own mouth, you knew neither of you would last much longer. Wanda couldn’t keep kissing you anymore, and instead buried her head in the nape of your neck as she hoisted your legs higher onto her hips and fucked you even deeper. Your eyes had rolled back and cries of Wanda’s name fell from your lips nonstop as she picked up her pace.

“I can feel how close you are,” Wanda groaned as she pumped particularly harder into you. “But you’re going to wait. I want you to cum when I do.”

All you could do was whine in response as the sensation of her fucking you made it impossible for you to let out any coherent words. 

“You’re going to look so pretty,” she moaned against your neck, “filled up with my cum… and even prettier after.” Wanda’s movements were becoming erratic as she spoke. The words hardly registered to you as she kept fucking you harder and faster. 

“You wanna cum, baby?” Wanda purred in your ear. You nodded desperately, your whole body trembling as you continued to take her. Her teeth grazed against the most sensitive part of your neck as she felt you nod and she could feel her own body tremble from how close she was. “Then come with me,” she ordered. Her hips pumped harder into you and after a moment you felt a sudden warm rush of fluids inside you. The sound of moans filled the air even louder than before and you weren’t sure if they were coming from you or her. 

The moment you felt her cum inside you, you followed after. Your body arched off the bed and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Wanda’s forehead was pressed to your bare chest as she came. The way your pussy tightened around her magic cock was intoxicating. Neither of you had felt so good in your entire lives and Wanda made a mental note to fuck you like this often. 

When she felt your body finally collapse against the mattress she did the same against you. You realized quickly that your wrists no longer felt restrained, but you kept them above your head either way. Too exhausted to even lift them yet. 

“That was…” you couldn’t find the words. You had never felt so amazing on so many different levels than you did tonight. Your body felt spent and sensitive, but all you wanted was more. More of that, more of Wanda, more of everything she had to offer now that you knew who Wanda was. 

“Yeah,” Wanda didn’t need to hear you finish your sentence to know she was feeling the same way you were. Her head rested on your chest, listening to your heartbeat begin to slow as you came down from the high Wanda gave you. 

“Can we… do it like that more?” Your face was flushed as you asked. 

Wanda lifted her head and gave you a beaming smile. To anyone else it would be dazzling, but curiously, to you it gave you that feeling again— the one where you were nothing but a sheep caught in a wolf’s clutches. 

“Of course we can, baby,” Wanda purred as she looked up at you. “As many times as it takes.” 

The word choice was odd. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the woman on your chest. Her eyes were dark as she looked back up at you and something about the way her fingers traced up and down your stomach made you shudder. 

“As many times as it takes?” You echoed Wanda’s words back to her as a question, but she just gave a small hum of agreement as she placed a few kisses on your skin. 

“Until I have everything that I want again.” Her voice was low suddenly, almost threatening. You looked down at her eyes and saw how they darkened as she continued to trace her fingers against your body. “And nobody will take it from me again.”

Her words felt like a threat to an invisible entity. You knew it wasn’t directed towards you, you had no idea the source. But you knew she was serious, even if you didn’t quite understand why. Her words felt as much as a threat to someone as they did a direct promise to you. 

As Wanda laid on your chest and recovered some of her strength she thought about how she was one step closer. She could have her perfect family; her happiness. She didn’t need to control a whole town, she didn’t even necessarily need to control you. Once you did understand, she knew you would be accepting. Shocked, maybe, but ultimately accepting and even happy to build the dream Wanda had. She would have her boys, she would recreate them again with you. And then it would be the four of you, forever. 

For your part, you didn’t know what Wanda meant exactly. It wouldn’t be until later that evening, when Wanda decided you recovered enough to go again, that you put the pieces together and realized exactly how magic Wanda’s new toy was. She was right in her assumption of your reaction, shocked but accepting. Just like the good girl she knew you would be. Whatever Wanda wanted, you decided you would give it to her, knowing she would do the same. Wanda was one step closer to her happiness and it finally felt as if she was building it on solid foundations. There would be no one to take you from her, no one to stop her from building a life again with you. And there was a silent, chilling understanding between the two of you that if anyone were to ever threaten her happiness again… they would not get very far.

Taglist: @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay @high--power @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @natashamaximoff69 @natashasilverfox @lovelyy-moonlight @jareguiromanoff @dj-bynum3718 @noahrex @simpforlizzie @taivantaylor @mrsmothermaximoff @storiesofsvu

Join the taglist here

[dottyistired]

The missing Journal 3 pages in TBOB are so interesting to me in further contextualizing Ford's mindset of shame regarding Bill. We'd gotten a snippet of it in the original J3 release:

But Bill shows us the less pragmatic motivations behind his actions, the mushy feely stuff he was too embarrassed to properly journal, putting certain series events into new context. Particularly this scene where after a whole episode of dancing around it, he finally opens up to Dipper about the nature of their relationship:

"Bill wasn't always my enemy, Dipper. I used to think he was my friend, long long ago..."

But does he really tell the full truth here? The cat's out of the bag, Dipper knows they had a deal, there's no reason not to tell everything. But Ford proceeds to explain his reasoning for summoning Bill as a purely practical, scientifically-driven one.

"I had hit a roadblock on my investigation of Gravity Falls. Until I found some mysterious writing in a cave. Ancient incantations about a being with answers. It warned me not to read them, but I was desperate."

Desperate...for what? Ford would have us believe it was for the sake of knowledge. Yet TBOB shows us that this is the entry immediately preceding his and Bill's first meeting.

Ford isn't some unfeeling robot powered solely by knowledge, he has human needs. He was lonely, lonely enough to summon a demon for companionship. A companionship so intimate, he describes his meeting Bill as the best day of his life, and laments the periods of absence from him.

That desire for intimacy is ultimately what drove him, and even with all his dirty laundry laid out he can't admit that part to Dipper. Maybe he doesn't even realize it himself, at least not until the post-Weirdmaggedon sections of TBOB:

Under the shame of unleashing Bill Cipher's destruction on the world, there's a much deeper shame: that Stanford Pines is not a lone-wolf, unfeeling sci-fi hero, but a fallible human being, capable of illogical sentimentality and longing for approval and (in)human connection. The exact nature of this sentimentality and longing is left to interpretation, but the efforts he goes to to conceal it make me lean towards something beyond platonic. Alex Hirsch's own words might support this:

"I think he is deeply, deeply hiding from his real feelings about things, because at some point early on, he decided that he could run from hurt by achievement and by creation, and has dug that hole so deep that he has no relationships. He doesn't have friendships, he doesn't have romantic relationships, he is someone trapped in a tower of his own mind and estranged. Ford shows none of that. He has sublimated himself romantically so, so deeply. (…) I really thought of Ford kind of like Tesla in that realm.”

TL;DR Ford is up in his feelings about Bill and repressing hard. This is also eerily reminiscent of the self-blame abuse survivors engage in, the hesitance to tell others, and shame over persisting feelings for their abuser.