#just the thought of losing her one day is enough to feel like I’ve been fucking stabbed
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Hi there! I was wondering if i could get some straight Daryl Dixon smut where fem!reader is asking him to choke her for the first time? If not it’s totally okay! love your writing! <3
Something New
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 2
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)
✧ Word Count : 1.6k
AN ~ Oooh I don’t think I’ve ever done any kind of smut like this before, but I’m happy to try! And let’s preface this first before anything else; no I don’t think Daryl would realistically feel comfortable choking someone. He strikes me as the type of man that doesn’t want to harm you in any way during something so intimate, even if you asked for it. However, I think early seasons Daryl would definitely be a little rougher during sex which is why I planned for the season 2 era. But the moral of the story is this is just for fun, and I tried to keep it as accurate as possible.
Hope you enjoy! xoxox
It had been a rough couple of days. Between getting stranded on the highway, losing Sophia, and Carl getting shot, it was safe to say that the group had seen better days. The recent events had taken a toll on all of you, the stress beginning to build up to the point of no return. And it was no surprise to you seeing Daryl was the one who was taking it the hardest.
He was constantly tense and rigid, a permanent scowl on his face while nothing seemed to be going the way it was supposed to. Though luckily for him, you knew just the way to relieve some of that…tension.
Your gasps and moans could be heard by no one near as Daryl had taken it upon himself to move your shared tent far away from the others to get some distance. At first you were weary of the idea, but now you thought it just might’ve been the best one he’s ever had. Considering the filthy sounds he was pulling from you, it would be mortifying to face the others the following morning.
The small tent was pitch black, the only thing you were able to see were the soft outlines of the different shapes around you, along with feeling Daryl’s hot pants on the back of your neck as he continuously pounded into you. The sound of your wetness with every thrust filled the small space, almost suffocating as the sleeping bag beneath you was providing little to no comfort from the harsh ground beneath you. But with your legs tangled together and the feel of his dick hitting your hilt over and over again, the feel of tiny rocks below was far from your mind.
“Oh, fuck.” you whimpered, desperately grabbing and gripping at his arms that were wrapped around you as his pace was rough and determined. Your pussy was throbbing, the feel of his hips slapping against your ass was growing more urgent as you felt your wetness begin to run down your leg.
He grunted from behind you, feeling your walls clench around him, “That’s right, fuckin take it.” he growled into your ear, the next thing you felt were his teeth teasingly biting the shell.
You threw your head back in ecstasy, your toes curling all while trying to patch his pace with your own movements. But let’s face it, you were growing tired. And he had more stamina than the two of you combined. He could’ve kept this up all night if he wanted to just to torture you a bit more than he already was, having slowed down multiple times right when he felt you were about to come.
His large, rough hands then moved from your hips up to your breasts, giving them a generous squeeze before teasing your nipples just enough to get you to squirm even more. Gently pinching and pulling them to hear more of those delicious sounds. You cried out almost in agony with how much he was teasing you, the feeling both pleasurable and miserable. But Daryl couldn’t lie, he loved it. Hearing you like this, so aching and hungry for him drove him absolutely crazy.
Your bodies were sheen in a thin layer of sweat, the desire and lust growing even thicker with every plunge of his hips or bites at your skin. You wanted to feel him everywhere. Which is why your hand impulsively reached for his, tugging it toward your throat in a sex drunk kind of state. Though Daryl however quickly snapped out of it when his mind processed your actions, his movements stopping completely which only caused you to whine a bit in protest as you thought he only did it to tease you again. But what you couldn’t see was his expression was quite serious. Never in a million years had he even considered what you had silently asked him to do.
“What the hell are ya doin?” he asked, his tone rough with desire yet still somehow soft when it came to speaking to you.
His words brought you out of your daze, your eyes widening a little at what you had unconsciously done in a fit of impatience and longing. You had never outright admitted that you had a kind of kink, a fantasy perhaps of him wrapping his strong hands around your throat. But now that your secret was basically exposed, you felt extremely embarrassed, silently thankful that the tent was dark enough to where you couldn’t see his face. Although you could sense the tension resurfacing, the tension you so desperately tried to take away from him, was suddenly back within an instant.
“Sorry…” you huffed quietly as you tried to catch your breath, “Heat of the moment.”
Daryl was silent for what seemed like ages, leaving you thinking you had ruined the entire moment as you didn’t have a clue at what was going on in his head. But surprisingly enough, it wasn't what you had anticipated.
The idea of choking, spanking, or any kind of harmful thing really had never before crossed his mind despite how rough he could be at times. He never wished to intentionally hurt you, especially after the trust you had built up over the weeks of knowing one another. You were important to him, even though he had never been brave enough to admit that out loud, you were still quite literally the only person that mattered to him now. But seeing as clearly you weren’t opposed to the idea of exploring something new, he figured...maybe he could get behind it.
His face leaned down toward your ear again from behind, “You tell me if it’s too much…ya hear me?” he said almost sternly to show you how serious he was about this.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, opening your mouth to question him, but you didn’t get the chance before his hand came up to gently squeeze at your neck. Your eyes widened, a surprised whimper escaping your lungs while his hips slowly began to buck up into you again, picking up right where he had left off.
The tightness he held around your throat immediately sent you back to that blissful haze, feeling your limbs begin to tingle as he continued to send shockwaves of pleasure up your spine. You moaned loudly when he squeezed a bit tighter, testing the waters with how much you could take. But it didn’t hurt at all surprisingly, like he somehow knew exactly what he was doing though he had never tried this before in his life. It was almost concerningly perfect, and you were in heaven.
“God, you sound so pretty.” he breathed, his pace increasing as he began to manhandle you, “You really like this, don’t you?” he asked almost teasingly.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to hear the tone of his voice, only managing to focus on how good it felt as you nodded your head frantically. Silently begging him to let you finish this time.
He choked you a bit harder when you didn’t respond, “Come on girl…tell me how good it feels.” he groaned.
You panted heavily while simultaneously swallowing to try and lubricate your dry throat, “Feels good- feels so good.” you stuttered pathetically.
Daryl hummed in approval as he heard your response, leaning his head down to kiss and lick at the skin of your shoulder while his free hand moved down to rub circles on your clit. A sharp gasp was pulled from you as you arched your back into him, your vision growing almost spotty at the amount of sensations he was giving you. Your legs began to twitch and he could feel your walls clenching around him even more intensely as you neared your orgasm again. But instead of slowing down, he finally continued to draw it out.
Your moans and whines grew louder and louder as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, his hand over your throat only making your brain feel more fuzzy. You almost couldn’t control the sounds you were making anymore as you finally came, crying out his name in the state of bliss you had craved so much. It was like for a moment you saw stars, feeling as if your soul left your body for a moment as his fingers continued to work on your sensitive clit. The feeling of your tight walls consuming him left him not far behind as he quickly managed to pull out of you, before spilling himself onto your back with a low groan of pleasure.
It took minutes for the two of you to finally come down from your high, catching your ragged breaths while your bodies felt almost too limp to even attempt to move. But eventually, his hand retracted back from your neck as he slowly sat up a bit, leaving a tender kiss on the back of your head to express what he couldn’t with words.
“We…we need to do that again.” you breathed quietly, slumping onto your back from exhaustion.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at your silent request, shaking his head though you couldn’t see, “Let’s wait a few hours at least…don’t wanna kill ya.” he said lightheartedly.
You huffed softly, “I think you already did. I feel like I can’t move my legs.”
His eyes glanced down, his hand coming up to run along your hip before traveling down your thigh, “How bout a massage then, hm?”
It’s funny, you thought. One minute he was saying the dirtiest things, fucking you until you forgot your own name. And then the next, he was sweetly suggesting a massage after his own doings. But then again, you would never complain. Perhaps after this, he would be more keen to trying new things…
~ Thanks for reading!
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x you#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl#the walking dead imagine#twd daryl#twd daryl dixon#twd fanfiction#twd#norman reedus#norman reedus fanfiction#norman reedus x reader
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Through the Storm
You had always hated storms. Not the ones outside—the crashing thunder and relentless rain were oddly comforting—but the ones that raged inside your mind. They brewed at inconvenient times, bringing doubt, anxiety, and an unbearable weight you could never fully describe. Being with Leah had always been your calm in the chaos, but lately, even she felt like a ship lost in the swell.
The rift started small—a disagreement over her schedule, a misunderstanding about a missed call. Leah was always busy. Between her training sessions and commitments to the England squad, it sometimes felt like you were just another appointment she pencilled in. You tried not to let it bother you, and at first it worked, but as time passed, you could not push down your frustration. Your feelings no longer simmered under the surface but started bubbling over at the worst moments.
It all came to a head one night after her return from an away game. You hadn’t seen her in weeks, nor had you been able to call her, and while you wanted to savour her presence, the frustration you’d been holding in came spilling out instead.
"You’re never here, Leah," you said, your voice trembling with both anger and sadness. "I get that football’s your life, but am I even part of it anymore?"
She stood in the doorway, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, exhaustion painted across her face. "Of course, you are," she replied, her tone sharp with defensiveness. "You think I don’t miss you when I’m gone? You think this is easy for me?"
"Well, it doesn’t feel like it," you shot back, tears welling in your eyes. "You come home, and it’s like… I’m just a stopover before the next big thing. Like I’m not enough."
Leah dropped her bag and stepped closer, but you turned away, wiping your eyes furiously. "Don’t say that," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You’re everything to me."
"Then why doesn’t it feel like it?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Leah stood frozen, her eyes searching yours for something she couldn’t find. Those eyes which had pulled you into a ban so long ago and now were tormenting you. "I don’t know how to fix this," she admitted, her voice barely audible.
And just like that, the storm between you grew too wild to tame. Leah left that night, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the sound of rain pounding against the window.
The days that followed were agonizing. Leah texted you sporadically, but the messages felt hollow, as though she was trying to bridge a gap that words alone couldn’t mend. You left most of them unanswered, unsure of what to say—or if you even wanted to.
Until one night, a week later, when your phone buzzed with a message that was different from the rest.
Leah: I’m outside. Please, just… let me talk.
You hesitated, your heart battling between wanting to see her and wanting to stay angry. But the thought of her standing outside in the cold, waiting for you, tugged at your resolve. With a sigh, you grabbed a coat and opened the door.
Leah was there, drenched from the rain, her usually confident demeanour replaced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard. That reminded you of times long past. She looked at you with those piercing eyes, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
"I know I’ve hurt you," she began, her voice steady but soft. "And I’ve spent the past week trying to figure out how to make it right. But the truth is, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that I can’t lose you."
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing with each word. "Leah… I just feel so invisible sometimes. Like you’re here, but not really here. As if I am just another appointment, a chore."
She nodded, stepping closer. "I know. And you’re right—I haven’t been fair to you. I’ve let football take over everything, and I thought… I thought you’d be okay with that because you’re so strong. But I didn’t realize how much I was taking you for granted."
Her words hit you like a wave, and before you could stop yourself, you were crying. Leah reached for you, hesitating for a split second before pulling you into her arms. You let yourself melt into her, the warmth of her embrace cutting through the chill of the rain.
"I’m sorry," she whispered into your hair. "For everything. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not enough, because you are. You’re more than enough. You’re my everything."
You pulled back just enough to look at her, her face inches from yours. "I don’t need you to have all the answers," you said quietly. "I just need to know that you’re willing to try."
Leah nodded, her expression serious. "I’ll try every day for the rest of my life, if that’s what it takes."
Her lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant, as if she were asking for permission to fix what had been broken. You kissed her back, the storm inside you finally beginning to settle.
The rain continued to fall, but for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again. Leah was here, and so were you—together, ready to weather whatever came next.
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LOVE when the pharmacy decides to fucking dick around with my meds so badly that now I’m off my mood stabilizer, my pain meds, and my fucking birth control (in a few days) because they’re insisting I should have extra fucking bottles of each one and I DONT because they don’t let me pick up more than a one month supply of narcotics at a fucking time so do explain where these extra bottles are, hmm ????? and they didn’t have enough caplyta ordered last time to even give me my usual 3 months supply of that so … ???? get your fucking heads out of your asses and give me the fucking meds you owe me ??? like ??? but I’m in a nasty headspace right now so if I call the pharmacy this morning, I’m going to be that cunt ass customer they bitch about all day because this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. in fact, the first time, they straight up committed insurance fraud by marking one of my scripts as filled and picked up WHEN, IN REALITY, THEY FUCKING LOST THE SCRIPT AND HAD NO RECORD OF IT BEING FILLED OR PICKED UP IN THEIR SYSTEM, BUT YET, MARKED IT AS SUCH AND CHARGED MY INSURANCE AN ALMOST 8 GRAND FOR THE FUCKING 3 MONTHS OF MY MOOD STABILIZER THAT I. NEVER. RECEIVED. I’m genuinely about to report this entire pharmacy to the pharmacy board because I’m so fucking done with this place. it needs to be shut the fuck down because you’re telling me, out of an entire pharmacy, y’all share the same IQ point AND dead brain cell, collectively ??? then don’t fucking work in healthcare where people rely on you to know your shit and keep track of their fucking meds because you’re just constantly making shit worse on people since you can’t seem to not fuck around with these meds and not ‘lose’ scripts. fuck out of here.
and I’m pretty much out of weed, which is usually my back up pain management method, without the money to afford a delivery order by their cut off time to order in 3 hours because I just paid my fucking bills and have SOME to go towards it, but not enough for delivery to be free, and I’d still have to walk my ass to one of the ATM’s nearby because they don’t accept my bank as a prepaid method OR any of the cards I have on my person. 🫠
I can literally feel my back spasming and seizing on and off while I’m laying on my fucking side, I’ve had a migraine with a stupid ass aura for almost a week now because chronic migraines fucking suck and i was REALLY hoping this one would be over by now, my muscle inflammations that my pain meds are supposed to limit are already beginning to start their itching deep in my muscles so soon they’ll blossom into a whole fibromyalgia fucking episode and become entirely inflamed, my joints in my hands fucking hurt because of the dreary weather so I really need to get into a rheumatologist at some point soon as well and get that shit figured out, I’m nauseas as fuck from all the pain, and I’m moody, hormonal, and just feel like fucking death physically.
I’m just. I give up.
this shit is exhausting and painful and so mentally fucking taxing to constantly deal with and I just want a fucking break from all this fucking shit. I wish I could just … not exist … for even just a little while with how fucking painful existing actually feels right now 🫠😭
#i hate that CT weed is so fucking expensive#half a fucking ounce shouldn’t cost me $250 …….. not when I can go to MA and get an ounce for $108 after tax ……..#but I don’t have a way to MA because my fucking best friend. who made plans with me OVER THE WEEKEND. HER. SHE INITIATED THEM.#canceled on me last second even though I texted her early the night before when I know she would see it 🫠#nope instead she waited from the text I sent at 6:30pm until noon the next day to cancel because her period is kicking her ass#NOT FOR FUCKING NOTHING BUT SO THE HELL IS MINE ???? AND IM ANEMIC ??? AND DEALING WITH ALL THIS EXTRA PAIN ON TOP OF IT ????#and I know I’m being irrational and insensitive because pain tolerance is a sliding scale for everyone#but like fucking come on you do this 3 out of 4 times YOU make the plans to hang out and I’m fucking over it.#plus I’m the one that always pays for everything and does she ever even OFFER to hit me back for the COUNTLESS ounces of weed I’ve got her#all because she couldn’t afford it so I said I’d cover it and she never paid me back. I’ve bought her at least a grand’s worth of weed#just over the last couple months and she’s never ONCE offered to pay me back for a single one#like ……… I don’t expect it. I give if I have it. but you can’t even just offer ??? like the invitation to pay me back would be enough to no#leave m ragingly pissed off and feeling used as an atm again for yet another ‘friend’ because they don’t even OFFER to be considerate#of course I’d say not to worry about it but it doesn’t even cross your fucking head to ask if I want anything towards it#like the next time you get paid ??? when you go and spend your own money on weed that day but can’t reimburse me for anything IVE paid for#oh and I always have to give her gas money if I even simply just want to hang out because she’s always fucking broke somehow#and she works in healthcare like bitch I know what you make and you can’t play that you don’t have enough to get by or throw me 50 bucks#towards YOUR weed that I’m buying every once in a fucking while when I’m already paying for everything fucking else#I’m so angry and I know I’m being irrational and bitchy but this is what happens when you’re tripped off your meds cold turkey#and one of them is a mood stabilizer that makes it so you DONT feel this way about people and aren’t so bitter when you’re let down 🫠🫠🫠#because now my rejection sensitive dysphoria is going to be triggered even easier than usual and I’m just.#I actually fucking give up. I don’t even know what to do here. the pain going through my body is so fucking intense#I keep losing my train of thought because everything hurts and then every once in a while a DIFFERENT pain acts up and throws itself in too#I just. I just can’t fucking win.#I hate fucking struggling with my mental state like this when I’m off my meds.#and because I have to be a month without my stabilizer/pain management/birth control it’s going to take me ANOTHER month to get readjusted#to those in my body so I won’t feel normal again until nearly fucking mid to end January the earliest#and that’s fucking bullshit. I’m going to fucking **** myself by the time I get back on these fucking meds since it’ll take that long#fucking hell I just. I give up. I give in. I’m self isolating and cutting myself off from everyone because it’ll be in THEIR best interest#for me to do so when I can’t control my mind like this. I’m so tired of feeling so fucking shitty and I’ve only been off them for two days
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I just love that I can think about something a little too hard and it suddenly feels like it’s real.
I’m sobbing uncontrollably over my grandma dying when she’s literally fine. Girl let’s not do this yet please
#m rambles#tw death mention#I could call her right now#she texted me five minutes ago#yet the grief feels so fucking real#just the thought of losing her one day is enough to feel like I’ve been fucking stabbed#how the hell am I supposed to want to live if living longer means having to live to see that reality?#how am I expected to deal with the thought of her not being there anymore one day?#I’m not even exaggerating about how real rhis feels either#I’ve cried more in this one sitting than I have for everyone else I know who’s passed combined#I just wanna hug her and forget about the world for a while#I’d call her but she always gets on me about this#‘we all die someday honey’ YEAH BUT I CALLED YOU TO FORGET ABOUT THAT FOR A BIT#god damnit#edit: just saw my reflection and my entire face is red and splotchy#I genuinely don’t think I’ve cried this hard…. ever?
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NNN
Synopsis. No Nút November finally came, and so did he!
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, losing NNN, PÚSSYDRUNK BOYS, bréeding, creampíes, cúmming in his pants, oraI (fem receiving), cúmplay, spítting, húmping, making Geto WHIMPER, exhibítionism (Geto), jealousy (Gojo), GOJO’S POWERS, innap. use of jujutsu, true form Sukuna, dp, p slapping, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 5.9k
A/N. Y’all have no idea how I’ve been waiting to write this since FEBRUARY.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 8th Nov. 7:48PM
“S’stupid, so stupid-” Toji’s spitting, teeth grit so hard that he thinks he could taste the tang of metal. With a roughened grunt, his big palms smear open your sopping lips, “Such a stupid challenge, n’ a stupid month ah-”
And oh how Toji wishes he could reel back the babbles spilling from his ravaged lips. How he wishes his rumbling baritone didn’t shake ever-so-slightly near the end.
Because Toji Fushiguro was going crazy - and it was all your fault.
“Deprivin’ me of her-” Every single shred of his needy frustration from the past eight days bleeds into each gush of his furiously weepy cock. Fingers curling around the hilt to smack! smack! smack! his round, pinkish tip on your soppingly wet lips. “-ya know how hngh- crazy it drove me?”
One strong arm of his flexes mouth-wateringly tight around your squirming body, massaging your perfectly arched spine closer into his rock-hard abs. A full nelson. His favorite. One he’s missed for- “Over a week. Ohh- over a week n’ m’still not gonna lose.”
He already knew that was a lie.
Because just a single, sunken inch is enough to stretch your sloppy entrance so gapingly open, enough to have you keening for air.
To have him let his jaw fall slack with a hoarse drag of your name, drunken head falling back into the silken sheets when your gooey cunt swallows more and more of his hefty girth. So heavy and sweltering hot inside your clingy walls.
The first time in so long and it felt too good.
Your trembly fingers clutch Toji’s sweat-dampened locks. He growls with a rough pull of your hands, fat, readied balls giving such a painful squeeze at the simple gesture. Hiccuping a feverish puff of condensation by your ear, “What, ma? T-torturin’ me for eight days isn’t enough?”
“Not that–” you’re whining, batting away big bulbous tears of stimulation in your eyes. “Jus’ need you so bad.”
Fuck, that has every drop of blood in his body pumping right to his maddeningly hard dick, staggering size growing twofold.
You feel his velvety shaft kiss deeply into the bullseye of your g-spot, swollen length making your elastic walls constrict around him. Shit, all it’d taken was eight days to almost forget how jaw-droppingly big Toji was. How he was rutting up in mindless, squelching wet gyrations up into your dripping cunt.
“Shoulda thought of that before ya were holdin’ out on me.”
And Toji’s utterly seething, pressurizing his riotous hips with enough of his almost-inhuman strength that he’s fucking you like he hates you. Every one of his words are dripping in a scolding tone, pumping up harshly with sudden jabs into your snug pussy. Deeper and deeper and oh-
He can’t help but leer his glassy eyes over down at the heavenly view, splaying his beefy forearms underneath your quivering legs to stretch you out shamelessly.
“Did ya kn-know this was ah- gonna happen?” he gruffs, already feeling a slight trickle of drool down the side of his scar. “That this stupid fuckin’ challenge was gonna drive me mad? M’still not- not gonna ah- cum-”
Fuck.
But even Toji didn’t know at this point.
“Shit-” Your body bows in an even sluttier way, hips swiveling in slow, sultry grinds to guide the very end of his weepy cock into kissing your most sensitive spots. Drawing wet, translucent glides of steaming hot precum down your insides. “W-wasn’t on purpose, Toji I s-swear- s’a chall-”
“Challenge my ass.” he’s rolling his eyes, and you feel his lips graze across yours in a messy excuse of a kiss. Dark brows furrows, a low ah! ah! ah! leaving his mouth with every slurping plunge. “My only ch-challenge right ah- fuckin’ now s’to get you to cum–”
You shake your bleary head, fingers dipping to his wrist. “No– wan’ you to cum first-”
Earning you a sweet, simpering smack! right alongside the peak of your throbbing clit, he’s smoothing over the sting with methodical massages of his rude fingers. “Move that damn hand.”
Leaving you gasping when he shotguns his painfully hard cock at such an angle to mash ruthlessly into your g-spot, your cervix. Punishing, bruising spearheads to remind you. “A challenge and m’gonna t-treat it like one. Cum.”
But oh, if Toji Fushiguro thought that he was running on merely the fumes of his sanity before then he wasn’t ready for you to finally reach your orgasm.
Milking his cock in only a few more shuddering jams before you’re crashing headfirst into a sudden wave of your high, tightly stuffed pussy gushing out in honeyed gushes. It glistens down into his drenched tufts of black, squirting all over his rippling abs to shine an almost-creamy sheen.
His dewy eyes widen - you squirted. You squirted.
And in response all Toji can do is bite down into the tender crook of your neck. Bite and bite until he was cumming.
Whimpering out a broken tone into your skin, his sharp canines dig even more animalistically. Dangerously pulsing cock snapping upwards in a sudden surge that has his rummagingly fat tip bumping into your womb, a thorough thrust before dumping out thick, voluminous spurts of his cum.
“F-fuck–” he’s breathing out unsteadily, sculpted chest heaving for breath. Eyes still scrunched firmly shut no matter how much he wanted to see that prettily fucked-out expression on your face, because ever slight squeeze of your cozy walls had him twitching out another ribbon of cum. “Oh god- shit, ma- this pussy- gonna be- hngh- death-”
Easily overstimulating Toji until he could feel embarrassing tears prick behind his lids, cumming after what felt like so long and now he didn’t want to stop. Couldn’t stop.
Instead swirling a ravenous thumb down the edges of your leaking slit, pooling the creamy dredges of his seed that’d formed a little ring around his thick base.
Without warning he’s shoving every single pearlescent bead back into your already overspilling pussy.
“Heh, whatever-” he tuts, sliding his tongue down those syrupy splatters of your slick - glossing all the way up to his scar. “Now that I’ve already lost this stupid challenge, jus’ stop yer whinin’ and ride me proper, doll.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 21st Nov. 5:31PM
Nanami Kento was not going to lose to your little challenge.
He was not going to let down his gorgeous wife.
He was not going to-
“Fuck.” Nanami heaves, he gasps for air. “Fuck.”
Thick fingers curl even tighter around his fat hilt, squeezing within an inch of himself. He’s hissing at the way that makes his angrily red tip blush even deeper, beading down glistening beads of precum that drip! drip! drip! right onto your pretty face.
“Tha’s it-” he’s huffing out, darkened eyes drooping into a sultry half-lid. Muscled thighs spreading further, he sears a firm five-fingered grip onto your hair. Cool wedding ring brushing over your scalp, “K-keep that gorgeous face still f’me, my love.”
But oh, despite that sweet, sweet pet name his tone drips with such sheerly primal need. Hoarse towards the end with something dangerous.
It was only a brief mention of this month that ended up with you two this - just a tiny joke of a special reward at the end that had Nanami clenching his teeth and his sanity to keep from cumming this entire month.
And he’d only made it so far.
All it took was a single pissed off work meeting, a single complaint from a client, one bad day at work for him to slam your shared apartment door open. Striding his way towards you darkly before spitting to you - his beautiful wife - “on your knees.”
Not even to have your pretty mouth on him- no, Nanami’s blond brows furrow deeper, sweat sheening a thin layer on his forehead when his greedy palms just drag down his drooling length. Over and over.
“Ken-”
“Shit.” His fat, rotund head twitches at the mere sound of your honeyed voice, his favorite song. Gushing out a steady stream of glossing precum against the side of your lips, and Nanami just hunches. “Shhh, darling you’re gonna have me-”
“I want you to, Ken.” you’re batting your lashes up at him in a way that makes him gasp, admiring all the dips and curves of his sculpted body. “Please?”
He pants out such a shuddering breath that you feel fan your face, stern lips falling further and further slack with every sodden clench of his balls. Every swirl of the soft pad of his thumb around the bawling pinkish divot of his tip.
“Take it.” Reward be damned. He was nothing against you. His metallic wristwatch flashes with every hurried pump up and down up and down up and- “T-take it all f’me, my wife.”
And oh then he’s cumming - head thrown back, toned abs rippling, face burning red when he’s moaning your name like a mantra. Over and over again into the heady living room air because Nanami hadn’t even made it as far as the bedroom before giving into that dark urge to paint your pretty features white with himself.
Spazzing tip weeping out thick dredge after dredge of his seed that sticks to you like a sloppy second skin. Drooling down the side of your mouth, and he’s guiding his fat cock to gloss over your lips. Pretty.
“My love- get up-” he’s hissing through clenched teeth. And before those syrupy slurring words can even register in your mind, Nanami’s swiftly looping two strong arms around your waist. Dragging you upwards like some glorified ragdoll. “Need- hahhh– I need-”
Immediately, you’re being carried to splay all out on the plushy sofa nearby, Nanami hovering over you with kiss after messy kiss. Tasting himself, tasting you.
“Have no idea how much- hngh–” Shit, he can’t even speak right now, words breaking into the most whiny groans you’ve ever heard pulled from the man. “How much I missed-” And with a particularly loud squelch! he’s reeling back just enough from the filthy kiss. Drunken grin leering across his face at the dripping gleam all over the lower half of your face, delicate strings of spit and cum still connecting you to him. “-this.”
You’re blinking away the haze, pressing pecks into sight dimple at the corner of his mouth. “M-missed this, too- Hah, don’t even care about that ch-challenge.”
Gliding an open palm down your curved spine, he grins. “Exactly what I like to hear.”
And then you feel like you’re being split open apart so widely that it feels like Nanami’s reaching into your very lungs, swiping the milky tip of his still-hard cock against those hidden-away sensitive spots of yours. He’s prying open your snug cunt with steady, slow spearheads, barely even tugging away his work tie before folding you into such a thorough mating press.
“I remember–” he’s dancing a thumb across your sodden lips, glossing it over in the most obscene opaque coating of cum you’d never even imagine. Popping it into his mouth. Sucking. “-something about a reward.”
He’s smearing his left hand down your throbbing clit - purposefully, to chuckle at the way you whine and puff about the cool sting of his golden wedding band. But more importantly, Nanami’s other hand draws down an invisible line about halfway down your stomach.
Fuck.
Exactly where he could feel his leaky cock bludgeon solid, circular bruises into your spongy cervix. Bouncing back at the recoil, exactly where he knew that little nudge was, dragging his pulsing cock to massage your cunt, your womb-
You suck in a shuddered inhale, “Wh-what about the reward?”
“Well, since there’s no ngh- u-use in the challenge anymore…” His long fingers press down hard. And oh the way the realization dawns on your face makes you look so beautiful underneath him - his beautiful wife. But Nanami can’t help but think how much more of a beautiful momma you’d be. How perfect. Unable to tear his eyes away from the slow dribble of cum down your lips. “How about a reward for both of us, my love? Two or three rewards?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - 11th Nov. 3:33AM
“S-Sugu-”
“...”
“Sugu-”
“Shhh–” Your leader’s silky smooth voice thrums at your throat, pressing an unapologetic trail of kisses down the tender skin. And you jolt at the sharp nip of his canines, “We’re trying to have a hah- meeting here, honey.”
But it was anything but that.
Fed up with your little challenge, Geto had all but demanded you sit with him through your next cult meeting. Plopping you down all prettily on his manspread lap as soon as the rest of your members filed in, acting for all the world like he wasn’t just taking filthy advantage of that short skirt he’d insisted you wear.
Stuffed staggeringly deeply inside.
Your saturated pussy lips bulge around his fat length, swirling his swollen cock around your walls with even the tiniest jostles. Firmly and readily cockwarming him for hours now.
And both of you were nearing your limits - especially Geto, but, of course, he couldn’t let you know that yet.
“Something wrong?” he’s lilting his baritone voice in volume, just enough for the surrounding members to catch interest in. Deliberate. One massive palm gripping a handful of your hips, “Seems like you’re having oh- difficulty gettin’ comfortable, gorgeous?”
Muscular thighs bouncing up and down in a relentless little cadence that had you gripping onto his decadent robes for balance. Tiny, rummaging thrusts of his sloppy length pierce your snug insides. Ridges upon ridges of his prominent veins massaging every single sweet spot he could reach - all of them.
They had him coaching those gruff grunts to the very back of his throat, fists curling on the table to prevent himself from simply slamming you down until you were stupid on his thick cock.
Babbling out in a desperate tone, “Suguru I can’t-”
Oh? He grits his teeth at the clingy squeeze of your velvety walls around his rotund tip, the way your ass jiggles at every slight gyration. So filthy. Raising one dark brow, Geto flicks a finger at the rest of the meeting to carry on. “Can’t even handle a lil’ cockwarming, hm? What h-happened to my stubborn girl from before? And her no-nut-Nov-”
“Stop teasing!” you’re mewling out with a pretty pout that makes him twitch inside. “Jus’ want you t-to cum–” d-don’t care that i-it’s November anymore-”
His rock-hard cock throb throb throbs inside your melty walls, bumping every oozing wave of precum into the very bottom of your pussy. And you could hear mutters spurting from every corner of the room now.
They knew. They always did.
“Oh so now, you don’t care?” Geto snickers, leaning back in his velvety chair to seep a bit more power behind his swiveling hips. “D-didn’t hngh- seem so greedy for my cock when ya made me p-promise not to cum for a month.”
As if to prove his point - and disprove yours - Geto’s hand comes slamming! down onto the vast mahogany table, grin wide. Dangerous. A primal rasp resounding at the back of his throat when he’d punishing your poor pussy with his first thorough thrust yet.
One. Two. Three.
“P-please!”
“P-p-please, what?” he’s mocking, dramatics of your own whiny tone.
“Please, Sugu–” You’ve definitely attracted the attention of every other person in this meeting room right now. But Geto couldn’t give a fuck. Not when those words fall from your syrupy sweet lips, “-m’s-sorry jus’ fuck-”
SLAM!
He stands. One hand at your neck, the other at your clit.
And as soon as your needy front is hitting the cool table, Geto’s merciless cockhead is diving thoroughly into your sweetened spots. The sudden change in angle letting him barrel his girthy shaft to tuck away at your very womb, all it takes for you to cum.
Eyes rolling to the back of your head, nails clawing at the poor wood, he’s driving his weepy cock in to pound you through every single one of your highs.
Peak after peak that Geto can’t help but get addicted to, and he’s missed this heavenly feeling so much that he can’t help but let his mean mouth hang open. Dark, dewy eyes rolling so far into the back of his head that he’s forced to scrunch them closed.
The table rattles precariously when he’s rutting his hips into you ferally, sharp hip bones smacking aching bruises against the fat of your ass. Pressing you down with his entire body weight when-
“Oh- oh shit, all your f-fault. Fuck-” He half-collapses when he cums. Over and over in thick, stringy wads that gush into your very cervix. Sloshing around with each of his jackhammers, it paints your velvety walls with a dripping white coat. Again. And again. And again and again- “So jus- take it-”
Shit.
Geto almost forgot how unfairly good it felt to have his achy cock milked by your cunt. Mustering up every shred of will to crack an eye open, he could spy the way your soppingly wet slit was overspilling with so much of his seed.
Licking his lips, he’s holding back a whimper.
And, truly, it was almost embarrassing the way that obscene sight was all it took for Geto’s once-softening cock to shoot up another few wispy ribbons of cum all over again.
So much of it that he couldn’t control.
Couldn’t even think of taming the way he was hiking up one powerful thigh onto the table to drive even more forcefully into you. Fingers curling almost painfully tightly around your throat to reel you into a filthy kiss of teeth and tongue.
He has absolutely no shame wrapping his glossy lips around your tongue to suck. And even less at the way that honeyed taste of you is all it takes for him to shoot a well round of sputtering blanks into your pussy.
Chuckling tearily at those downturned, greedy eyes - shit, when did he even start crying? “A-aw look, you’ve interrupted the meeting, gorgeous.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 4th Nov. 10:01PM
“F-four days?” Choso’s swallowing a heavy gulp, burning face buried into the crook of your neck. And he can’t stop from heaving in deep inhales, from letting his mouth water. “-s’only been four days, baby?”
That cute, broken quiver in his tone has you tittering out a teasing giggle, something that only has his breath even more shortened. Brows knitting together when his hips just rut-
“Sorry.” your lovely boyfriend’s hiccuping, trembly fingers wrapping even tighter around your body. And he’s trying - scrambling - oh-so-desperately to stray his glassy gaze back onto the movie on-screen. He has to. He needs to or else he’s about to lose his fucking sanity. “Sorry didn’t hngh- didn’t mean to, jus’ ignore-”
But that’s when Choso’s breath hitches, when his large body wrecks with a violent shudder running down his spine. “Are you alright, Cho?”
Because oh, your taunting body was squirming up just right against the hefty girth of his swollen cock. Dragging your ass down the exact line of his sensitive slit in a way that has his hand grasping roughly onto your hips to make you stop-
“M’gonna ah- m’not gonna be able t-to do it, baby–” he’s pleading in a filthy kiss against your lips. Sucking. Begging. “Please- don’t-”
“Don’t what, Cho?”
Shit, that nickname has him hurling his hips forwards with a choked-up grunt. Seeing white-hot pleasure behind his eyes at every one of your smoothly swiveling gyrations, seeing you in all your dripping wet glory when he thumbs your drenched panties just to the side.
“Shit.” he gasps, dewy eyes widening, breath turning feverish at your neck. “Shit shit shit- wh-why are you so-”
And Choso moans, he can’t even finish his sentence right now. Can’t do anything but tug down his too-tight gray sweatpants to glide a steamingly hot smear of precum down your slit.
“So what- oh-” Your taunting mouth only drops further and further open when he’s dragging his achy cock down your cunt like he was addicted. Getting off to the way that your saturatedly wet pussy lips were coating him in a glossy sheen, sucking him up like you wanted-
“Just the tip.”
It’s his little mantra.
Rasped out over and over into your open mouth, panted in every messy kiss of his reddened, fat head against your sloppy hole. Once. Twice. Pretty pecks to French kisses..
“What was that–?” you’re batting your lashes, your hips meeting his messy cadence when his own speeds up. Keening at the sculpted leg being thrown over yours to angle his driving pistons more determinedly - desperately.
With a low whine at the back of his throat, the curved tips of Choso’s fingers find their sultry way down to your clit. And he’s giving you a harsh tug at the very peak before sobbing, “Just want to put it in, baby- jus’ the tip- p-please-”
“Just the tip?”
The movie long-forgotten.
The resounding squelch! squelch! squelch! of skin on sodden skin rings louder in your ears, as do those tiny hitches in Choso’s pants. Words gurgled though those big, bulbous tears rolling down his cheek, “Please- can’t do it anymore. Ngh- wan’ to c-cum- can I cum inside?” Drooping, half-lidded eyes boring right into your bleary ones, “Please?”
And all you can do is nod.
All Choso can do is try not to lose his fucking mind just as soon as the thick circumference of his head is bullying past your swollen folds, feeding you inch after ragingly needy inch of his cock.
All it takes for him to lose - because with the most broken of moans, you’re being stuffed snugly full with the sheer volume of Choso’s cum. With just the tip. And there’s so much of it, it’s like he hasn’t cum for years, sloshing to hit the very back of your womb, slopping around in a way that makes you shiver.
Wrangling to slip out his cock the tiniest inch-
“No!” Choso gasps, eyes blowing wide almost comically. “No no no- wanted- inside- hngh-” His ruddy lower lip wobbles at the slow, sultry dribble of his potent seed down your inner thighs, glossing over his own hands when he’s smearing your sodden pussy lips stretched even wider. “Inside, baby–”
“O-oh my god-” your eyes can just barely crack open when two slender fingers slip into your slick entrance, plugging you staggeringly full as soon as he’s shoving you tight with the rest of his angry cock. Rock-hard length stretching your meshing cunt taut, the very tips of his fingers being jostled to the side of every spongy g-spot in your walls. “Cho- s’too full it won’t- won’t- ah-”
The sheer stimulation was maddening.
And Choso was drunk on your pretty moans.
“Yes it will-” he’s babbling, syrupy saliva being drooled in a streaming wad right onto your lolling tongue. And with his free hand, he’s prying your pretty mouth shut. “Don’t- hngh- don’t sound so cute, baby s’gonna make me- oh-”
But you could already guess.
Because just the slightest note of your voice, the slightest grind of your hips to fuck back into his mindlessly messy cadence had him jolting inside you. Too-sensitive tip twitching out in honeyed ribbons of precum that drip down your walls.
Choso hisses with a sudden thwack! of his hefty balls kissing up against your cunt, gliding a hand underneath your thigh to pound into you languidly. Desperately. “Four days- shit- couldn’t make four days without this c-cute cunt-”
“Baby—” you’re huffing, your half-lucid eyes drifting away to the black screen. “The movie’s over.”
He huffs out a wet bout of laughter into your lips, nipping slightly at the very bottom one. “But I g-guess that doesn’t matter when I ah- already l-lost does it, baby?” Reeling out the sticky digits of his fingers, snapping at those delicate strings of cum and your sweet, sweet juices. He grins. “Because I already have four day t-to make up for-”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 7th Nov. 8:29PM
Times like this, the king of curses found himself on his knees. Times like this, he wanted to ruin you.
“Awww, don’ be like that, woman-” he’s digging the rough dark claws on two hands onto the small of your back. Inhuman stretch wrenching you down, down, down that never-ending girth of his twin cocks. “Not when I’ve hngh- got you like this-”
But the only answer you’re giving him is another one of your stubborn pouts, brows scrunched together in a way that makes his tips twitch. Eagerly nudging up in a wet kiss against one of those sweet spots Sukuna knew would make you mewl.
Your lower lip wobbles with a whine, “M’ s-still mad at you, Kuna.”
Ah, he’d roll his eyes at your adorable antics but he knew that wouldn’t quite help his case. You’ve been like this ever since you’d joked about that little tradition humans did in November - and he took it seriously.
Too seriously, according to you, perhaps. With the way your devilish boyfriend was still fucking you into the decadent royal mattress - simply leaving you teasingly high and dry the mere moment he felt his orgasm coming.
And now, the very actions had him groaning. Powerfully muscled hips staggering upwards to bob you slowly on his cocks, rearing his fat tips against your cervix, your g-spot, your cervix, your g-spot, your- “What more do you ngh, want, brat?”
It’s asked with a sudden sopping swat planted on your beading cunt, and Sukuna’s taking the opportunity to let his other tongue take over. A slow, lewd drag of those massive tastebuds down your throbbing clit.
“I-I don’t ngh-” you’re moaning, and he already knows he’s winning. By the way your melty walls are cozying up even hotter around his thick cocks, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “-don’t know-”
“Awww–” The third of Sukuna’s big, beefy arms just can’t help but thread through one of your own, bringing it right up to his lips to leave a saccharine sweet kiss on the back of your hand. “My woman- my love-” One. Then another. And Another. “My queen, tell me what you want.”
Your tone cracks into a saturated whine when he ambushes a particularly sensitive part of your g-spot, drawing a wet glisten of precum down the side of your walls. Swelteringly hot. “W-want more-” Your trembly arms snake around his broad shoulders, digging into the smooth muscle. “-wan’ more, Kuna- hah- please-”
And who was Ryomen Sukuna to ever say no to you?
In just a few split-seconds, you’re being dragged right off of his bulging cocks. Throat just barely moving to whimper in disappointment, when Sukuna manhandles you to splay out pliantly on all fours on those silken sheets.
Face buried into the mushy pillows, his cocks buried in your dripping cunt.
“Shit-” he’s shuddering, heavy balls clenching at the newly sodden wave of slick that drools down your slit. And Sukuna can feel himself drool ever-so-slightly, hiding his burning face away in your neck. Thank fuck for doggy. “Is tha’s all you wanted, then–”
And every one of his surging thrusts have you plummeting further and further up the bed, gripping onto the mahogany headboard. He’s swiping down your thrumming clit, kissing a wet trail down your sluttily arched spine.
You sob when his smacking hips turn bruising, your gummy walls stretched to your limits. “Y-you were so mean-”
“Mhm– so mean, baby.”
“M-made me so hngh- mad- never liked that ah- stupid challenge-”
Sukuna’s just snickering, flashes of white-hot pleasure sparking behind his eyes. Every time he’s milking himself on your tight pussy forcing him to hold back his whimpers, his gasps. One large set of his rough digits curling around your throat to haul you off of the bed, your head airy when he’s fucking each and every single thought out of your syrupy mind. “Don’ worry, my ah- spoiled brat. M’gonna fill up this oh fuuuck- cute cunt n’ there nothin’ you n’ any stupid challenge can do about it.”
Both of his rock-hard cocks were so messy, dragging out the sloppiest of slurps when he’s rummaging around your velvety insides. Spurts of wispy white precum staining down your sodden walls, making you gasp.
“M’so close-” You’re arched into the perfect bow for Sukuna to drag his lips down yours in a filthy kiss, humming darkly. “Gonna ah-”
Your pretty cunt has Sukuna chuckling, babbling out drunkenly. “So cum then- hah- why dontcha cum. Cum all over my cocks-” And he wants it. Needs it now, and shit- he’s never participating in this puny human custom ever again. Lazing out his second tongue to squelch an unapologetic pathway to your clit. Rolling. Sucking. “-go on then, woman. Show off f’me.”
And each one of his words were trembling with sheer desperation, cracking, even when you’re finally reaching your peak. Pound after pound. Every flick of his monstrous tongue drags you through your high, letting your toes curl.
With a sudden, hefty shudder, his cum-filled balls clench - and Sukuna’s finally cumming. Harder than he has in all his thousands of years. Harder than he ever thinks he could.
You’re simply at the mercy of both weepy ends of his cocks when they burst out thick streams of his seed, reverberating the most filthiest of sounds that make your ears buzz. Doubly. And his balls smacking against your ass grow drippingly wetter, your poor pussy overspilling each of his steamingly hot ribbons of cum.
“Fuck-” Sukuna sucks in a sharp breath, tears crinkling at the very ends of his eyes from how heavenly it felt having his stringy seed slosh against and between his jostling lengths. His hand feels for that inflationary bump where you’d been stuffed full, purring. “Did you take your pill?”
You blink, “N-no?”
“Good. Because m’suddenly wanting for an h-heir this Christmas.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - 1st Nov. 12:17AM
Shit, he’s going to lose. Gojo’s musing with whatever’s left of his syrupy mind - or wait, was it even November, yet?
Ah, he can’t even remember. Can’t even think to do anything but piston the very cockhead of his needy length between your puffed-up pussy lips. Spreading apart your folds with an easy, glistening swipe. And he’s so half-lucid that Gojo giggles at the way your ready cunt is taking him in so well.
“You’re mine-” Gojo’s panting out a feverish breath. Kissing your sopping wet cervix easily with each furious thrust, he’s spitting out a wet drawl of profanity into your lips. “M-mine, y’know that?”
“Toru–” Fuck, your cracking whine has Gojo’s glassy eyes veering into the back of his head. Murmuring out a vibrating groan. “S’jus’ hah- what’s gotten into you-”
And the strongest could babble about how seeing that newly appointed teacher at Jujutsu Tech churned his gears. He could tell you about how easy it is to conjure up a hollow purple when some bastard is making eyes at his wife.
Especially in November of all days, when he’d finally said he was going to make it through the whole month. He has to.
But, no.
Instead, he’s crackling the very soft tips of his fingers with jujutsu. Pinching your clit ever-so-slightly–
“Fuck!” Your spine’s arching into such a delicious bow that has his mouth watering. His thoroughly sunken cock bursts out in a few dangerously wispy waves of precum that make him shutter a gasp. “U-using jujutsu’s not ngh- fair-”
“Fair?” he hiccups, nosing down the side of your neck. “Not fair is how hah- good this pretty pussy of yours f-feel, sweetheart.” And he’s rutting into you so sloppily, massaging down your elastic walls with each of his prominent veins. Over and over Gojo can feel himself losing his mind- “Shit- I think I-I’m the one that-”
You can’t even react.
Because in a split-second, Gojo’s splayed out all the way near the foot of the bed. Teleported.
Strong hands jostling your legs spread even further open, drool dripping down the side of his mouth when he just drinks in your essence, feverishly hot breath hovering over your quivering cunt. And that pathetic mewl barely out of your lips before-
“A-at least I can’t lose the ch-challenge way, heh-” Gojo’s lips move sultry and slow over your already thrumming clit, wrapping around so prettily to suck on the saturated beads of slick.
You can only keen, you can only thread your shaky fingers through his snow locks. Giving a harsh tug that does absolutely nothing to deter his messy make out with your cunt - if anything, your husband’s surging his face even deeper into his favorite heaven between your thighs.
Nose meshing against the very tip top of your presoaked slit, dragging in a wet glide with every languid roll of his tongue into your sloppy entrance. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper-
He’s simpering out such a fucked-out smile on your pussy, long pinkish tongue lolling out to smear open your swollen folds. And all you can do is watch and watch as he’s slurping up syrupy stripes, slender fingers dancing their way dangerously up, up, up-
“Ah!” Your entire body wracks with a sudden surge of electricity - coming from the slender digits currently bullying their way into your slippery entrance. Gushing a thumb over your clit- “Toru what did I tell you about-”
“Ah, the jujutsu?” Gojo leans his head deliriously against part of your inner thigh, leaving a wet trail of bites. Hips mindlessly grinding down pathetically onto the plush mattress. Fuck.
And he looked so pretty like this - gaze drooping so close-lidded that they were almost shut, blue eyes half-glowing, mouth all glossed over with a dripping wave of your sweet, sweet juices. With this, you’re gifted with another swat of his thumb over your sodden clit, slurring, “Can’t r-remember a thing–”
And then you’re cumming.
Toes curling, your hips jerking upwards into his ready hold, fisting painfully at Gojo’s hair. If it hurt then he didn’t show it. Anything but. Because he’s hiking his legs up into a seated position, your trembly thighs splayed out shamelessly on the muscles of his broad shoulders.
Dragging and dragging you through your high with drippingly wet sucks on your clit, those drawing squelches ring in your ears and make you gasp. It was so filthy.
But not as filthy as the way that Gojo’s head drops backwards with a wet whimper, his eyes firmly scrunched shut. “O-oh sweetheart I-” Bedroom lights flickering.
And then nothing more is said as he just rips down the rest of his overpriced trousers until they were nothing but tatters hanging haphazardly around his slender waist.
Jittery fingers immediately taking hold of his cock - his furiously cumming cock. From just eating out his girl.
So reddish and weepy at the very thick tip of his, streaming out thick ribbon after ribbon of his seed that coats his fist a glossy white. You could see the way his hefty balls clenched, how his girthy shaft was twitching ferally in his fingers.
He bares you with his drunken gaze, lightning bolting at the ends of his eyes. Kiss electric. Sucking on your tongue over and over - before shoving two of his dripping wet digits between your pretty lips.
“There we- hngh- go don’t give a fuck about November-” You flinch when he smacks! his cock along your overworked clit. Circling the very edge of your entrance with his fat, sobbing tip.
Coated such a creamy ring with his cum. His.
Prattling, “Th-this is what my girl s’pposed to hah- look like. My girl.” And as soon as he sinks in just the barest of his bulbous head - the lights go out, in all of Tokyo. Soon, in all of Japan. “Heheh, doesn’t c-count that I lost no nut November if I can’t hngh- see it, right?”
A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely lovely NNN *evil laughs*
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
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Not A Lot, Just Forever
Dean Winchester x Pregnant!Reader
After throwing up morning after morning, the reader discovers her illness isn't what she initially thought.
Word Count: 4.1k
Tags: Pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy, brief description of motel bathrooms, vomiting (repeated), self-blame, mention of reader's mother dying in childbirth, mention of childbirth related deaths, anxiety, brief loss of consciousness, Dean is a sweetheart and will make a great father.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Pregnant!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel
@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! I'm not sure if I already sent you this request, or if I sent it to someone else (oops🤭) but could I request a Sam Winchester and/or Dean Winchester x reader (your choice which one of them, if not both sepperately) where he helps reader deal with morning sickness, though he only finds out she's pregnant on the third day in a row that he's with her while she throws up. Ty!!"
Read it on AO3!
A/N: Adrianne Lenker title. I really really loved this request! I feel like writing the pregnancy trope is a sort of hard task to do, so I hope I brought it justice. I love love loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the request @ghostlyaccurate, and I promise I'm trying my damnedest to work through my inbox <3. Every mistake here is completely and 100% my own and of my own doing. (P.S. can you guess how hard it was to find "aesthetic" pictures of a bathroom and pregnancy tests for the pictures for this fic?? I think the ones I found actually work pretty well! Another thing, what happened to the yellow text color? I use it to tag fluff fics, and it's gone :( ).
Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist
Your head hung over the foul toilet bowl of whatever motel you, Dean, and Sam were holed up in, and a rancid smell invaded your nose. In earnest, you didn’t have the slightest idea where you were. The past couple of hours had been filled with a slight fever and the constant need to use Dean as a pillow. Halfway through the drive between towns, you convinced him to switch out driving with Sam so he could join you in the back seat.
The worn tile of the bathroom floor offered you minimal comfort, and the fact you’re supposed to be up for a case in two hours made your stomach churn over again. Ditching your normal avoidance of motel bathrooms, you gripped the edge of the toilet and emptied your stomach again.
“Y/N?” Dean’s groggy voice called out from behind the door, “Are you okay in there sweetheart?”
You squeezed your eyes together, cursing yourself for being loud enough to wake him up. Sneaking out from his arms was a feat enough already, trying to suppress the sound of you losing your guts at four in the morning wasn’t going to happen; even in a perfect world.
“No,” you groaned as he softly opened the door, “I feel like shit De, and you know how much I hate throwing up. And how much I hate motel bathrooms.” You whined. Your hair was falling to the front of your face and you were cursing whoever decided a bathroom didn’t need a working air vent.
Dean hummed softly, pulling the hair back from your face and holding it with one hand as he sat behind you on the floor. He pressed his lips to the back of your head softly, and gently traced shapes on your collarbone as you laid back on him.
“Just breathe, I’ve got you if you need to go at it again.” He said softly, cradling you in his lap as you tried to breathe. He ran his hand through your hair as your breathing started to hiccup less, and eventually, he sat you on the closed toilet lid to get you water.
You felt ashamed to be keeping him up at this hour. Your phone clock read 5:13 AM, almost an hour past when you’d originally gotten up. He already doesn’t get enough sleep as is, and here you are sitting, waiting for him to get back like you aren’t able to take care of yourself.
“Here you go, drink slowly. Did you use the mouthwash I gave you?” He asked as he handed you his water bottle. He stood across from you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. You nodded softly, gratefully gulping down the contents of the bottle.
The bags under his eyes were already enough to make you feel guilty. Hunters were used to running on minimal sleep, but with you around, he’d just gotten into the six-hour range. He rubbed his face, inhaling like he normally did when he was trying to make a decision. You didn’t want to go out for the case. You barely wanted to move your body to get back in bed and salvage what little sleep you could before life kicked you back into gear.
“Do you want to stay here while Sam and I talk to the family?” Dean asked as if he could read your mind.
I love you so damn much. You thought, bowing your head with a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to be the one to bring up staying in; neither of you ever wanted to admit you needed breaks, but if the other one was to bring it up, it made the process easier.
You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet as he opened the door for the two of you, “yeah, I think that’s best for all of us. Don’t need me puking in the victim’s bathroom as you guys ask your questions.” You tried to joke as you and Dean crawled back into bed, tucking yourself into his arms, and splaying your legs haphazardly on top of his.
The next morning wasn’t any better.
Sam and Dean had come home late from questioning the family, and you were barely aware of them unloading the Chinese food they brought for you. Dean sat with you against his chest, still half-dressed as an FBI agent, as you wolfed down the egg rolls he got. You found yourself starving when they offered you food, but now you regretted eating anything at all.
You found yourself hung over the toilet again, but thankfully only had to put up with one round of saying goodbye to your lunch. You were able to get yourself up and over to the sink, where you repeated Dean’s routine from the morning before.
You leaned against the counter in the small kitchen, Dean’s water bottle filled with tap water in your hand. You turned to dump the rest in the sink when the creak of a floorboard behind you had you spinning on your heel in record time.
“Jesus Christ, Dean. Why are you up?” You asked in a hushed tone, placing your hand over your racing chest.
“I could ask you the same thing,” He crossed the small room and came over to embrace you in his arms, “did you get sick again?” He asked innocently, but the combination of those words, and the pitiful shift of his eyes was enough to make you feel like a child. You were a grown woman, you knew damn well how to take care of yourself much before the Winchesters were in your life.
You huffed in annoyance, pulling back from Dean’s chest. You felt your face begin to heat up, and it felt like anything Dean could say had the chance to send you over the edge.
“Yes, I did. Right now, I feel like my body is too hot and too tight for my bones, and I also feel like anything you say is going to make me hit the roof. Even if it’s nice, I just don’t think my brain can take in any more words without wanting to jump ship.” You said you rubbed your temples. Things like this had happened occasionally in the past, and before Dean, you figured it was just because you were a rigid person. One night a particularly bad migraine had led to you yelling at him because he offered to get you some medicine. Instead of just leaving you to stew, like every other partner did, he simply asked you to explain what you were feeling. No judgment, no interruptions, and he’d do whatever you said would make you feel better in that moment.
Now, whenever you felt overwhelmed, he did the same. He’d swallow any sarcastic comment or solution to your problem and listen to you. No matter what was bothering you, at whatever hour of the day, he was at your side, doing what you asked of him without hesitation.
He just nodded, pressing his lips to your forehead before he led you back to the bed you two were sharing for the case. His body threw off heat like a bonfire, and your normally freezing hands were appreciative of that. In this moment, however, it felt like you were burning from the inside out.
You adjusted yourself between the sheet and the comforter, so the two of you could still touch without pressing your skin together. Dean waited for you to still before he made himself comfy, and he gently ran his fingers through the ends of your hair.
“Is this okay right now? Do you want me to leave you be?” He asked, in as soft of a voice as he could. You hummed, smiling at the tingling sensation running through you. Comfort, and a warmth that wasn’t burning to the touch, crawled up your back, and into your head. You tried to focus your eyes for a couple of seconds more, but without your control, they forcefully fluttered shut.
“Y/N.”
Sheet tangled between your limbs, and you could see the light through your closed eyes. Opening them, you find an unexpected sight. Instead of Dean, or Sam, standing at your bedside, the trench coat-clad angel you’d met five years ago stood awkwardly, waiting for you to fully wake up.
“Cas,” you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, “what are you doing here? Where’s Sam and Dean?” You asked.
Cas sighed and sat at the end of your bed. He shot you a quick look, before focusing his eyes on the blank wall in front of him. He tapped his fingers on his legs, a habit he picked up from Sam.
“Dean called me and told me you were sick. I came in, and told him I’d try and cure whatever… ailment is afflicting you.”
You smiled at the way he spoke, and the fact Dean went out of his way to try and help you out, but there was something off about Castiel’s demeanor. You sat up and touched his arm to get his attention.
“Cas, what’s wrong? Did something happen that I should know about?” You asked softly.
“I think you’re pregnant, Y/N.” He looked at you, and there was a rift of guilt lingering in his eyes.
A course of confusion and shock coursed through your body before you felt a rotting pit settle at the bottom of your stomach.
“Why would you… think that, Cas?” You felt a tightness taking over your throat, rubbing your hand across your neck to try and loosen it.
“I can sense life forms. Human ones, at least. It was hard to tell with Sam and Dean here, but once they left I was able to confirm my suspicions.”
Your hand traveled to your lower abdomen before your mouth spat out a request without thinking.
“Pregnancy tests. Can you get me some, please? I just,” you ran your hand across your forehead quickly, “I want to confirm, using non-magical means.”
Cas nodded, “of course. I’m going to assume you don’t want me to let Dean know?”
You nodded your head before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Deep down, you knew Cas was right. You were late by a few days, but you’d chalked it up to the illness that’s kept you on the bench for this case. You didn’t usually react as poorly as you’ve been to an illness, even when you’d gotten a terrible case of Pneumonia.
Getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom as Castiel vanished to get you a couple tests. Looking to the mirror, you’re met with a form of you that was a little scary; purple, slightly-puffy eyes, smeared makeup that hadn’t been washed off from days before, and your skin was breaking out in places it hadn’t before.
Dean hadn’t said a word about it, but even someone as blissfully ignorant as him had to have noticed the way your face wasn’t looking like your own.
Dean.
You’d have to tell Dean you were pregnant, with his child. That you’re going to be parents.
What if he didn’t want to be a father at thirty-six?
Children weren’t one hundred percent out of the question, but they were longer down the line in hunters’ lives. If you were lucky enough to get out of the life unscathed and find someone who would want to settle down with, you’d likely be creeping into your mid-forties, at best. Mary had gotten lucky with John, but now they’d both been taken away by the thing they’d spent half of their marriage avoiding.
What if you weren’t ready to be a mother at thirty-five?
For you, it wasn’t the question of wanting to have kids, but you never saw you or your boyfriend backing out from hunting anytime soon. To add on, you’d heard of many nasty births that ended in fatality for the infant or the mother, including your own. Every time you and the boys were on a case involving a child, you’d be extra reckless. Dean picked this up within the first couple of times you’d almost gotten yourself killed to save a kid, and you explained your fear to him. The fear of a mother not being able to welcome her child home in her arms, or the child not seeing his mother again, and their fate lying in your hands. You’d already ripped apart your family, and you tried your damnedest to keep as many together as possible.
A ruffle of feathers and a sharp knock on the bathroom door snapped you out of your thoughts.
“You can come in, Cas.”
Wordlessly, the angel stepped into the small motel bathroom holding a plastic bag. He pulled out three different pregnancy tests and set them on the counter.
“The woman working there said I should get a couple just in case one doesn’t work like it should.” He said as you picked up the first test. “I’m telling the truth, but I understand you wanting to confirm this to yourself.”
I know Cas, you thought, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, you stared at him, waiting for him to leave the bathroom, but he had a blank look on his face and didn’t move a muscle.
“Cas, I’m going to need you to leave the bathroom for me to do this.”
“Oh, sorry. Of course. I forgot how ‘hands-on’ human tests can be. I apologize.” He said blatantly before stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.
Fuck me.
That’s what got you into this in the first place, dumb ass.
After twenty disgustingly long minutes in the decrepit motel bathroom, you walked out holding four positive tests. Cas was sitting on Sam’s bed, staring out the window, but immediately stood up and crossed the room to you. You handed him the tests, and he placed them on the table between the two beds.
“How do you feel?” He asked. Another thing he picked up from his years on earth was the ability to know when to ask what questions.
You felt blank. Void of answers and solutions to the situation at hand. Whether or not to turn left, or right.
“I… don’t know what to do, Cas.” Your voice broke along with the tears you were holding back, and a sinking feeling of hopelessness began to dig its way through your head.
Neither you nor Dean are ready to be parents. What if Dean’s angry? He would never kick you out of the bunker. The bunker is the only real home any of you have had in a long time, but is it safe? Is the world safe enough to bring a baby into? A Winchester baby, who would no doubt be a target from birth. What if the baby doesn’t make it to full term? What if this baby kills you like you killed your own mother?
“Y/N,” Cas placed his hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to ask you to take a breath.” He drew his hand up and waited for you to inhale. Taking in a shuddered breath, you followed the flow of his hand, stopping your heart from running up your throat.
“Thank you.” You said, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the pregnancy tests off the nightstand. Two pluses, two double lines. You and Dean were careful and used a condom whenever you found extra time together, but somehow God decided that rubber wasn’t going to work as intended.
“I think I’m going to just lay here,” you tuck yourself under the bed sheets once more, the tests shoved into your pajama pants, “and wait for Dean and Sam to get home. I’ll get him out of this stuffy ass room and tell him in private. Sam shouldn’t have to witness if we- if we argue. I know it makes him feel awful.”
“That’s a smart plan. You need to take this one step at a time and do it carefully. I know Dean cares for you deeply, but if you need someone to support you, all you have to do is call for me.” Cas squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.
“Thank you, Cas.” You yawned, pulling your body further under the covers of the bed. Castiel smiled slightly, before turning away and disappearing with a familiar rush of wings flapping.
Your body was covered head to toe in sweat, and the bed sheet you wrapped around yourself was thrown onto the floor. No light entered the room, and the time on the alarm clock read 1:43. Your stomach churned in a familiar way, and as you got to your feet you finally noticed neither of the boys were in the room.
You clambered to the bathroom, phone in hand, trying to call Dean. One hand braced on the toilet, and the other tried to thumb down to his contact. There wasn’t any time to think about the fact you were carrying a baby inside of you, the baby whose father is missing in the middle of the night with no calls or messages.
They always call. You thought before you set your ringing phone on the floor to throw up for the first time that morning. The phone rang, the sound slowly driving you insane each time you redialed Dean’s number between dry heaving into the bowl.
Your hair was sticking to your forehead, poorly swept away and held back by a rubber band you found on the sink. The heat, the pain, and the fear of losing contact with the Winchester brothers combined with the reality of you being pregnant was finally built up enough to break the swarm of emotions you barely choked down when Cas was in the room earlier.
Eyes burning, you slumped against the sink cabinet and brought your phone to your ear as you called Dean once again. You let out a sob, tears rushing down your face and neck, leaving behind a slightly burning trail. Your breathing became uneven, the sound of your own heart drumming through your ears drowning out the ring of your phone. Letting your phone slip to the floor, you brought your knees to your chest and folded your arms as a nest for your forehead.
Neither of the boys called within the twenty minutes you were in the bathroom, your phone was now close to being dead, and no muscle in your body wanted to obey your brain telling them to move and do something. You weren’t a weak woman, you took the cards you were dealt and tried your best to win, but sometimes all you could do was fold.
“Y/N? Y/N?”
A hand pulled your face from your knees, and you could barely see with the light of the bathroom now on and blinding you. A warm hand rested against your cheek while another briefly touched your forehead.
“Help me get her up, Sammy,” your eyes fluttered closed and you felt two arms hook under both your arms, laying them over shoulders as your feet lightly dragged across the floor.
“I’ve never seen her this bad, Dean.” The voice you now recognized as Sam said. Your legs were swept up from under you and you were laid on the bed you’d crawled out of.
You felt the tests still pressing in your pockets, and you thanked whatever greater being was willing to listen. There was no way you wanted to Dean to discover that information on accident.
Dean.
The other voice was Dean.
You moron, who else would it be?
The bed next to you dipped down, and you felt a gentle hand tuck a few stray hairs behind one of your ears. The sweat covering you was sucking every inch of clothing to your skin, and all you wanted to do was peel either of the pair off.
“I thought Cas was going to come here and help her out,” you heard his voice straining as he spoke, and you felt your heart snap in two.
You moved your hand, as heavy as it felt, and squeezed the first part of him you touched.
“Sweetheart,” you could feel Dean’s breath as he hovered over you, “you’re scaring me here.”
“Cas…” you gave out a heavy cough, “he came. He helped me figure out what’s been happening.”
A glass of water was brought to your mouth, and you took every drop of it. After swallowing the cup, your eyes finally were able to open. You were greeted by a worried Dean hovering very close to you, and a worried Sam crossing back from the kitchen holding Dean’s water bottle.
Sam set the bottle on the bedside table and sat on his bed, facing you and Dean. Dean’s attention was solely on you. His hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought his lips to your forehead, before resting against it.
“Hey,” you said, chuckling slightly, “I didn’t mean to scare you, De. You, or Sam.” You sat yourself up in bed.
“Did Cas tell you what’s wrong?” Sam asked, looking at you expectantly.
“He did, but… is it okay if I talk to Dean? Alone?” You asked softly.
Sam shot Dean a look, which Dean promptly returned with one that had Sam standing up, and walking into the hall.
Orange rays of light shone from the window of the room, and you could just barely see the sun climbing on the horizon. Dean moved to hold you in bed while you gained the composure to tell him you were both parents.
“Dean…” you breathed steadily, trying to even your heartbeat that was ramping up once more, “I have to tell you something-”
“I kinda gathered as much sweetheart,” he said lightly, lines forming around his forest-lorn eyes beautifully.
“- it’s important. I mean, it’s going to change our lives, for the rest of our lives.”
Dean’s face became more serious, pulling you to face him as he crossed his legs.
“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.”
Do it, now. Just say-
“I’m pregnant.”
The air hung heavy around the pair of you as you handed him the tests in your pocket, and you could see the clocks turn in Dean’s mind as he stared down at them.
“But we used a rubber?” He said, and you could guess where his thoughts were wandering.
“We did, but you’re the only person I’ve been with for years, Dean, I need you to believe me when I say that.” You said reassuringly as you could without sounding like you were lying.
His face broke into a small smile, and he brought his thumb to trace over your lower cheek, “I know, sweetheart. I trust you with my heart, I just know not to use that brand anymore, seems like their effectiveness is questionable.”
You laughed, tears drying in your eyes as you pushed at him playfully, “Dean! You gave me a heart attack, you son of a bitch!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He laughed, capturing you in a giant bear hug and rolling you on top of him. You looked down at him and brought your lips down to his.
“You’re going to be a father,” you said, beaming at him while smiling the hardest you’d ever in the longest time
“You’re going to be a mother,” he replied, smiling just as hard. Your face fell slightly, and the word mother finally kicked into your head. “Hey,” Dean said as he saw your face shift, somehow remembering the story you told him all those years ago, “Remember, we’ve got an angel on speed dial, and you know how hard it is to take out a Winchester.”
Your heart warmed at the statement, the baby inside of you was just as much L/N as it was Winchester. You loved Dean with your heart, as did he love you, and now the two of you were going to brace the dangerous world you’d spent years protecting with the amalgamation of that love.
You brought Dean’s hand to your stomach as he brought his other hand to your face. His calloused fingers were gentle on your skin, and small crinkles formed around his eyes as he smiled, holding his hand at your stomach as you gazed back at him.
A knock sounded at the door, making you turn your head around before you and Dean burst into laughter, and told Sam he could come back in the room to tell him the news.
#spn#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#destiel#deancas#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester angst#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x pregnant!reader#dean winchester smut#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction
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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3
ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list
@gutsby
⭒ Wedded Bliss
The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.
@samthemarvelfan
⭒ Bad Romance
In Brooklyn, everyone knows the unwritten rule: you don’t cross James Barnes. When you return after nearly half a decade, things are anything but the same. After the murder of your Uncle, you begin to learn that no one is who they say they are, and that you may have accidentally given your heart to a mobster; The White Wolf of Brooklyn. More dangerous than that, he’s given you his.
@anonymityisfunwriter
⭒ Two Sides of the Same Coin
⭒ You're Losing Me
Your fairytale ending is crumbling before your eyes. You don't know how to love someone who can't tell you're dying. You fear you're fading away, begging him to do someone, say something, choose something. You fear he won't be able to resuscitate you this time. This time, he's losing you.
⭒ Alone Together
It was always been you and Bucky, alone together, you'd say. But suddenly, you're just alone.
⭒ Uptown Girl and the Brooklyn Boy
Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.
@pellucid-constellations
⭒ For the Love of the Game
Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.
@barnesafterglow
⭒ Friday (I'm In Love)
every day you love bucky. every friday he pretends to love you too
@sinner-as-saint
⭒ Tempestuous
With his kingdom flourishing in peace, and no threats from enemies; recently crowned King - James Buchanan Barnes sets out at sea. With his finest ship, the best crew ever recruited, and a deep desire to see whether the edge of the world truly exists; the King sets sail. Hoping to find the marvels of the ocean, to find beauty and magic even; however he ends up finding a fiery soul – one he cannot get enough of. But then again, no love story is ever perfect, is it?
⭒ Ruin
You work at a café owned by your family, close to your uni. And most of your days are pretty laid back and calm, but that is until you catch the eye of the mob boss. Your cute skirts and soft sweaters make him weak. Your innocence captivates him. And he wants you, badly. He wants you in his bed, wants his hand under those cute little skirts… he wants to ruin you.
⭒ A Sweeter Place
Years after a messy break-up, and now seeking stability, infamous mob boss James Buchanan Barnes finds himself reunited with an old flame of his. Instant guilt and regret wash over him when he finds out that his reckless ways back then, changed an innocent girl’s life forever.
⭒ You're No Saint
Steve and Bucky have been friends since they were young boys. They are inseparable, so naturally when you married Steve you were aware that Bucky came along with him. Every event, every vacation, even as the best man at your wedding - Bucky was always there, alongside you and Steve. He was one of your best friends as well, so you’ve never thought of him in a sexual way, ever. That is until one certain night, when you see something you’re not supposed to and you like it a little too much. You deny your desire towards Bucky, but Steve knows you better than anyone. He knows what you want and need, and he’s determined to fulfil your fantasy; because what his wife wants, she gets.
⭒ Run For Your Life
He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with.
⭒ All Yours
One of your students confess their feelings for you and things get interesting...
@mellowsaturns
⭒ In Losing Grip, on Sinking Ships
when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.
⭒ All to Myself
after bucky finds out why you've been acting up ever since his company's party, he teaches you a lesson and remind you that you're the only one for him
@renxzs
⭒ Redemancy
Maybe it was a bit naive to think moving in with your best friend and long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, was going to be some smooth road that led to an admittance of mutual feelings for one another and a happily-ever-after ending, wrapped up nicely in a bow. Naive indeed; especially when you have to consider the fact that Bucky is the biggest womanizer you know.
@cryptidcasanova
⭒ My Devotion
The one where Bucky doesn’t take your breakup well.
⭒ Loverboy
It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.
@subwaysurf45
⭒ She's Not Mad
Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways.
@adrinktostopyourthirst
⭒ Sniper
Reluctantly, you get thrown into an assignment with Bucky and Yelena, but Bucky doesn't trust you as far as he can throw you. When he's proven to be correct, it turns out you're still a hell of a good team.
⭒ Three Hundred
Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?
⭒ Variant
The chaos of the multiverse is quite literally holding up a mirror to Bucky. Turns out, it's very easy to get under someone's skin when you have a universal connection to them.
⭒ Underground
The Underground is the last way for you to survive whatever is left of the world after the Blip. Natasha introduces you to the Winter Soldier whose wing you're under until you find your way around. He's a stoic Underground fighter and you're... useless.
⭒ One Shot
Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.
⭒ Satisfied
Drunk sex with Bucky.
@thenhewaswrongaboutme
⭒ Your Hands Have Made Some Good Mistakes
Bucky has to spend six months locked up with a stranger.
⭒ Time Out
Need me a boy who is so needy and whiny when he cums inside for who knows how many times, and yet he still begs as soon as he's done "please, please again? I'll be good, I-I swear, I just need it so bad, just one more baby I promise–"
@bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
⭒ After All This Time
impending danger puts you and your ex, Bucky, in close quarters.
⭒ Why Are You At The Wake?
Bucky sits by your hospital bed, anxious for you to finally open your eyes. He’s got to set the record straight, and apologize for what he said before you got hurt.
⭒ The Rain Is Always Gonna Come If You're Standing With Me
A hurtful article in a low-budget gossip magazine throws your relationship with Bucky for a loop.
⭒ I Can Go Anywhere I Want, Just Not Home
Bucky doesn't talk to you anymore, and he's less than enthusiastic when he runs into you out of the blue. But when he calls from a strange phone number, the puzzle pieces fall together.
@noceurous
⭒ Get You Back
You hated that you loved Bucky Barnes, and he loved that you could not hate him.
@violentdelightsandviolentends
⭒ Honey Girl
The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.
@notafunkiller
⭒ You Were Just Mine Yesterday
It's been a while since your break up with Bucky happened, but you're still not over him. You try to move on, go out, and have fun with your friend, Steve, but you end up in the same bar you two went to often. It also just happens that Bucky is there too, with Natasha by his side. It doesn't take long for you two to end up getting into old habits.
⭒ Out Of Style
A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.
@queers-gambit
⭒ Curiousity Killed The Cat
after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.
@cherryblossom-heart
⭒ I Loved You Once
Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy but breaking your heart seemed to come naturally to him. A love story about your heartbreak,his betrayal and a chance at redemption.
@rookthorne
⭒ Purity
Softness was a trait you unwittingly carried - the wings of a dove taking you higher and higher, elevating you in the eyes of the devil. And that devil did not want to wait any longer. It was time to collect.
⭒ His Girls
Cars were all the same to you — classics, imports, you name it, they were all the same. Well, they were, until you were nonetheless forced to visit your local mechanic and saw the man that would pique your interest in not only every single make and model of classic car, but his charming smile; the air of righteous arrogance that flowed from his tattoos, and that damned cheeky glint in his bright eyes.
⭒ Hollywood Boulevard
All it took was one night, one song - hell, one note - and you were gone for him, hook, line, and sinker. Turbulent times lay ahead, but in the afterglow of ecstasy, forced to feel emotions in such intensity for someone you’d never expect, you couldn't help but follow him anyway - he was irresistible, after all.
@boxofbonesfic
⭒ You're Gonna Give Me Six
@gogolucky13
⭒ Mean It
You and Bucky get trapped overnight in the safe house after a mission. Everything should be okay, except he's your ex and thanks to his carelessness, the situation gets a little more complicated.
@intrepidacious
⭒ Almost Believing
You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.
@buckybarnesdiaries
⭒ Please
Bucky needed to be spoiled.
@buckys-darling
⭒ Face The Sun
To ensure the prosperity of their two kingdoms, a determined Princess and reluctant King are to be wed. She is willing to commit, but he can’t seem to let his lover go.
⭒ Will You Love Me Tomorrow?
You and Bucky are friends who fuck and nothing more. That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself, at least.
⭒ Electric
Flirtation has a different meaning with Bucky, and his patience doesn't last long when it comes to you.
@straywords
⭒ Kiss It Better
You’re not entirely sure your boss with the staring problem even likes you, but you’re determined to do your job either way.
@little-miss-dilf-lover
⭒ Fifteen Minutes
@bucksfucks
⭒ The Feeling's Mutual
the amount of times you and bucky have seen each other masturbating is alarmingly high. might as well do it together.
@ellemj
⭒ Bigger Than He Was
Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.
⭒ Strawberries
Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?
⭒ Breathe
Bucky hates the way you take unnecessary risks in the field, the way you're so mesmerizing and yet so hard to work with, and he especially hates the way you get on your knees for him during a dangerous mission. Finding out how pretty you look on your knees is the last thing he needs.
⭒ Flustered | part 2
Bucky seems to thoroughly appreciate all women...except for you. When he finds out one of your weaknesses, he can't help but use it against you, which only makes you hate him more.
⭒ Inevitable
While on a mission with Sam, John Walker, and Bucky, you're the only person exposed to a sex pollen. Bucky sure as hell isn't going to let anyone else take care of you.
⭒ Blurred Lines
When choosing a female agent to send back in time to gain young Sergeant Barnes's trust, everyone's in agreement that it should be Sharon. Until Bucky, the man that you barely get along with, speaks up and lets everyone know that it could only be you.
⭒ Does It Hurt?
Bucky never would've gone out of his way to help you if he knew that HYDRA was still watching his every move, if he knew that it would shift their focus to you. When you're targeted and taken, it's his fault and he'll do anything to save you. Anything.
@viixenvi
⭒ Red
You work at a strip club and Bucky is a regular. Tonight he specifically asks for you in a private room. You never thought he'd love the color red on you so much.
@ro-is-struggling
⭒ Self Care
Bucky always seemed interested in your skin care routine, so when one day he arrives tired and drained from a mission, you take the opportunity to show him the importance and benefits of self-care.
@kinanabinks
⭒ Silent Girl
After a traumatizing event, you aren’t the friendliest or most talkative of people. Bucky understands, and in turn becomes the one person you soften your hard exterior for.
⭒ Special Girl
Being friends with benefits definitely has its perks, especially when the friend in question is as hot as Bucky Barnes - but when you're feeling insecure about the arrangement, Bucky makes it clear to you that you're more than just a friend.
@angrythingstarlight
⭒ Roommate Bucky
@wkemeup
⭒ Cold, Cold Water
While on a stakeout in the heart of Russia, Bucky learns that touch can bring something more than pain and he will willingly give himself over to the ice if it means keeping you alive.
⭒ Drunk On You
Bucky has always been nervous around you. When he’s tasked with caring for you after a night of heavy drinking and suddenly you’re kissing him, Bucky doesn’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly want him sober, right?
⭒ Honey and Chamomile
Four cups of tea, four distinct moments in time, and each pulls you in closer beyond the walls surrounding Bucky’s heart.
⭒ Suburbia
Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.
⭒ Eclipse
When a mission leaves you empty and broken, Bucky is determined to heal the wounds that linger deeper than the cuts on the surface.
⭒ Back to Bourbon Street
When you’re badly injured on a mission, Bucky works desperately to keep you alive. Only, it might not be enough.
@espinosaurusrexex
⭒ Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers
Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...
@navybrat817
⭒ Reconnect
Bucky Barnes is your best friend. You're also in love with him. After his recent breakup, the two of you get a chance to reconnect during a weeklong vacation together. Is it long enough to get your happy ending?
@dyspneagrime (wattpad & ao3)
⭒ No Privacy
You're stuck on a mission that never seems to end, in a completely destroyed studio apartment, with absolutely no privacy. And no privacy means- you haven't cum the whole time. Thing is, neither has the ancient, half-cyborg, psychopathic, hobo-lookin' asshole that you've been partnered up with.
⭒ Little Wing
The year is 1973. All Dove Rogers wanted was a relaxing summer. Just one last hoorah before being thrust into the adult life. Yet everything shifts when her new houseguest and long standing enemy- Bucky Barnes, arrives. In the thick of sun-kissed relaxation, the two of them are forced to face the awakening and burning desire growing between them.
⭒ Possessed
Margaret Everlee is a meek little thing. Living her life as a struggling artist in New York, trying to find her place in the world. That is until the formidable CEO with a dark past, James Barnes sets his sights on her. His infatuation is instantaneous, becoming a man obsessed with making her his own little doll.
@stardustdreams-andcaffeine
⭒ The Thin Line
Of one thing you were certain—Bucky Barnes hated you, and you hated him. How could you not, considering the super soldier had made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell after you had been assigned to protect him? But there was someone after Bucky from his past, and now he was forced to work alongside you to stop them. And in the process, you would find out just how thin that line was between love and hate.
@buckybabesonly
⭒ Wanna Be Yours
You are afraid to believe that someone like Bucky might actually love you back.
@lovelybucky1
⭒ Flirting and Football
@kurogxrix
⭒ Drunkenly In Love
you and Bucky ‘accidentally’ get married after a drunken game of truth or dare with the avengers.
@stxrvel
⭒ Hate Is A Strong Word
you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?
@kikixreverie
⭒ Its Called: Freefall
Things get heated between you and your closest friend Bucky, when you're made to play a married couple on an important mission. Neither of you can help yourselves when you end up stuck in a hotel room together, with sexual tension you could cut with a knife.
@brunchable
⭒ I Don't Want You Like A Best Friend
Bucky can't decide if the universe loves him or hates him. Maybe it loves to hate him. Maybe it's mischievous. Because he’s in love. He’s madly, deeply, painfully in love with a girl that he knows he’ll never have. Because the heavens created arguably the most perfect creature in their repertoire, dangled you in front of him for his entire life, and chose to rip you away before he had the chance to tell you how he felt.
@thyme-in-a-bubble
⭒ Just For Tonight
before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?”
@aquaticmercy
⭒ Sleeper
When Bucky falls in love with the antihero he’s sleeping with, he offers her a place in the Thunderbolts.
⭒ My Own Soul's Warning
You, an immortal being, falls in love with the very mortal Bucky Barnes. You would do anything for him, even if it meant you had to strike a deal with Death herself.
@skaye44
⭒ Coffee Companion
You and your friend Bucky enjoy going for coffee dates as friends. Bucky sees the names and numbers of two flirty baristas on your cups. He's jealous and wants to be the one you date, so he takes matters into his own hands.
@ultralightpoe
⭒ Juno
#marvel#bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#“ass or tits?” bro A METAL ARM#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes smut#tfatws#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#“i can change him” bitch why#hes a perfect menace to society and i love that#sebastian stan#mob!bucky#mob!au#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky x reader
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Save a Horse🍂
Summary: Wandering around in the apocalypse was hell until you came across a a ranch, finding a injured horse you helped it finding the owner and things getting a little heated with an older cowboy
Pairing: Cowboy Negan Smith x f!reader
Warning: Age gap, reader is in 20s Negan is mid 40s, p in v, praise, virginity lose
Inspired by @lanadelnegan stories🤎
•Masterlist•
The apocalypse hit and everything happened so fast, I was with my family at our farm for some time watching the news, listening to the horror stories on the radio, we thought that we could go unscathed since we hadn’t been affected and that all the food and water we needed was on our land but all that changed one night when a hoard of walkers ran down our farm, my parents were first trying to fight of the walkers, quickly being ripped apart their screams still lingered in my head whenever I thought about them, then it was my two sisters trying to flee but got surrounded taking them down as well, I was lucky enough to get to my truck finding an opening in the walkers and driving away from my home, leaving me all alone on the road
Now it’s been 2 years going from place to place just trying to survive, to find a reason to keep living in this cruel world, I’ve been able to dodge as many walkers as I can, that wasn’t the main problem anymore, the food shortage was what dwindled my hope
My truck had broke down a while back so now I’ve just been wandering on foot, walking through the trees trying to get some shade from Georgia summer heat when I hear a groan and thud, I follow the direction of the whines on a left of what have might caused it, walkers, people, god knows what now a days
Rounding a tree I see a horse laying down on the ground, I approached slowly not wanting to spook it having experience with horses back on the farm, kneeling in front of it petting its soft black mane
“Hey girl, what are you doing out here all alone?” She didn’t look injured she was laying down fine, maybe she just got hot it was one of the hottest days I’ve ever lived in even in Georgia
I took out one of the bottles of water I found poring some of it over her face to help cool her down then poring the rest in a bowl I had in my bag and she was quick to drink it
After some time I stood up taking her lead rope trying to get her to stand up, I couldn’t leave her here all alone for some walkers to eat her alive maybe she came from somewhere near by
Walking through the trees she would occasionally change our course more like she was leading me than I was her until we got to a break in the trees, a ranch in perfect condition, a few horses grazing the field, little sheep’s hoping around, a chicken coop and a cozy little cabin like house right in the middle of the land, a brown bronco truck parked out front
Opening the gate, closing it behind me and the horse so the other animals wouldn’t get out like she did somehow, when a deep voice stopped me in my tracks
“See ya brought Missy back, been wondering where she went off to” coming down the porch steps was a older man, cowboy hat, white shirt, blue jeans and boots, maybe it was the lack of human contact or even interactions but damn was he fine, I didn’t realize he was right infront of me till he cleared his throat breaking me out of my oogling
“Oh yeah, I found her out in the woods she must had heat exhaustion so I gave her some water” my stomach feels like it’s in knots, I haven’t felt like this in so long, he’s said a few words and I’m entranced by him
“A nice and pretty girl might just have to keep ya around darling” he smirked making my knees weak, but I still have my values I’m not just going to jump his bones even though the urge is so strong
“Oh I mean if you’re able to take me in I’ll earn my keep, help around the farm, anything I just…..I can’t stay out there alone any longer” I said praying he’d give me a chance, some hope
“Ya sure you know what you’re doing around a farm?” He asked as he looked me up and down, lingering on my chest
“I grew up on a farm, I know what I’m doing”
“Hmmm well come on in, see where you can stay” I let Missy go so she could run off with the others, following him inside, it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, cute kitchen, wooden accents around the house, he kept walking down a hallways till he stopped at a room waiting for me to go in first, it was cozy, I don’t care if this place was trashy as long as I can be stress free and have someone to keep me company
“You like it?” He asked from the doorway
“I love it, thank you” I said as I sit on the bed letting out a long awaited sigh
“How long were you out there?”
“I don’t know time is hard to keep track of out there, maybe 2 years”
“Damn girl, 2 years did you atleast have someone out there?”
“My farm fell early taking my family with it when the walkers came, so it’s just been me until now”
He gave me a pitiful look it made the blood rush to my cheeks
“Come on darlin, supper should be done, should get some food in you” he said waving me out of the room and Im quick to follow him to the kitchen where I sit at the table as he dishes up some food, fresh food something I haven’t had in well forever it feels like
He sits across from me at the table taking his hat of showing his dark brown hair streaked with some grey, biting my lip to stop myself from fantasizing about running my hands through his hair, pulling on it as I feel his beard scratch against my legs
“So what’s your name darlin, like to call you something other than sweet names” he smirks obviously realizing my constant leering but he didn’t make it easy
“I’m fine with your little names but it’s y/n”
“You got a spark still considering how long you’ve been out there, how old are you even?”
“20 you?”
“Let’s just say I’m old enough to be your father”
“Not a problem for me” I said under my breath
A few weeks went by and I did what I said, working hard around the farm, waking up early to collect eggs from the chicken coop, feeding the horses and sheep, picking any ripe berries from the garden all before he was even up, no different from today, I laid berries on our plates and scrambled some eggs finishing right when he comes out of his room, scruffy hair, boxers and a black tank top showing off his tattoos, yes I earned my keep but the tension between us was growing stronger and stronger everyday, every touch, every long night of staying up talking I have to do something about it
“Morning Negan sleep well?” I asked as he sat across from me, our usual spots since that first day
“Great darlin, would’ve been better if you were next to me all night” he smirked, he’d do this tease me and act like it was nothing but it was something to me especially when I’d stay up late at night touching myself thinking of the things he’d say
“Negan you’re driving me crazy you know that” I said chomping on a strawberry
“You think I don’t hear you?”
“What?” My face flushed, please god don’t let it be what I think it is
“At night, when you think I’m fast asleep, I hear you moaning my name, whimpering when you can’t make yourself finish” he said his voice getting deeper as he leaned further across the table
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I gotta go……..go clean up the hay” I said flustered and completely embarrassed standing up and leaving the house to the barn
OH MY GOD this is so embarrassing, he’s heard me touch my self to him what is wrong with me, it’s only been a week and I can’t control myself, maybe because he’s everything I want, strong sexy makes my knees weak and panties wet, plus I have so much pent up sexual frustration, growing up on a farm and not being allowed to date led to me now, a horny 20 year old fantasizing about a man who generously gave me shelter and food, I’m a mess, a horny mess that wants to ride this man all day long
I get to the barn pitchforking any loose straw back into the pile trying to figure out what I’m suppose to do now, how do I face him again after he’s heard me moan his name
“I can hear your crazy thoughts from here darling” I look to the barn door seeing him dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots, his cowboy hat and a brown plaid
“I can’t take it anymore Negan, obviously you know that now, please just……..”
“Just what baby?” He asks his voice deeper again as he gets closer gripping my waist, his hands alone engulfing me
“Just touch me”
He leans down grabbing the back of my thighs lifting me to straddle his hips, my arms wrapped around his shoulders now face to face
“You sure you can handle this sweetheart?”
“I need it, I need you to fuck me please I’ve been so good” I say as he litters my neck with sloppy kisses
“You have, such a good girl for me, guess you deserve a big reward for that” he smirks as he squeezes my ass, laying my down in the hay pile
“Fuck you got me so hard, you know how hard it was to not bust into your room hearing your sweet moans just begging for me to plow this pussy?” He grips the bottom of my sundress hauling it off over my head leaving me in just my panties, my tits completely exposed
Hearing him groan as his hands roam my body, from my hips up my stomach to caress my tits rubbing his thumbs over them making my panties even more soaked
“That feels so good, doesn’t feel like this *fuck* when I try” I whimper my body feeling like it’s on fire
“No one ever make you feel good darling?” He says as he leaves kitten licks against my nipples feeling like lighting shooting from them to my clit, trying to grind against his thigh between my legs
“No, no one’s ever…..”
“No ones ever touched you, you’re a virgin?” He continues to suck hickeys down my stomach stopping at the hem of my panties
“Only you” I moan needing more
“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel good baby” he removed everything he’d wearing going to throw his hat in the pile of clothes but is top him
“Stop!……keep it on”
“You like cowboys? Wanna take a ride?” He smirks as he pulls down my panties leaving us both naked
“I mean I did save your horse, it’s only right to ride the cowboy” I say as I flip him over to straddle his hips, his dick standing big thick and prominent, he’s really gonna stretch me out good
“Oh ya it’s only right” he laughs squeezing my hips hard as he helps me move them back and forth grinding on his dick getting it wet
“I need it please”
“Take your time darling” he says as he lifts me up so I’m hovering right above him feeling his tip gently pushing against me
I slowly push down feeling the pressure and stretch, it hurt god it was way bigger than my two fingers
“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he grunts
“Is it…….is it all in, you’re so big I don’t know if I can take much more” I moan uncontrollably, all this sexual frustration finally breaking free
“Just a little more, come on be a good girl and take it” he helps push me down the rest of the way till I feel his skin flush against my clit
I sigh I relief that I got it all in but the sting isn’t pleasant
“Take your time cowgirl, wanna get you nice and stretched before you try and ride your cowboy” he laughs as he sits up kissing my neck again and rubbing my clit to help distract the pain
“God I can’t wait” I say gripping his shoulders as I start moving up and down, slowly at first feeling him deeper and deeper each time
“Fuck baby this pussy is gonna be the death of me” I take his hat putting it on holding it with one hand just like I would when riding a mechanical bull, bouncing and gyrating fast and harder and deeper feeling him hit that spot where it makes me see stars and screaming his name over and over as I feel that tension build up in my lower stomach
“Come on cowgirl, cum on my dick, make yourself cum, let it out” he says meeting my thrusts over and over driving even deeper
My hearing goes fuzzy feeling like my whole body is lit up with pleasure, it’s never felt this good before doing it by myself, soon feeling a warm liquid shoot up inside me, dripping down in between us making a sticky hot mess
Coming back down to earth from that mind blowing orgasm I feel his hands roaming up and down my back, his chest pressed against mine
“Did I do it right” I moan biting my lip slowly grinding on him
“Damn darling, that was the best fuck of my life, yeah you did it right, look great doing it to, could get us to this” he says laying back in the hay hands behind his head
I sat up feeling him slide out whining when he popped out his cum dripping onto the hay as I lean down against his chest
“I want more”
“Damn baby girl, they were right good girls really are the most frustrated”
We spent the rest of the day in the barn, him taking me in every position imaginable, everyone better than the last until we were exhausted and my pussy ached so good
“Glad you found my horse that day”
“Me too Negan”
I want this man desperately damn, I’m newish to writing this kind of story so if you got any tips lmk
#twd fanfiction#daryl dixion imagine#twd daryl#daryl dixon#twd x reader#twd fluff#twd negan#daryl dixon x reader#negan smith x you#negan#negan x you#negan smut#negan x reader#negan imagine#negan fanfiction#the walking dead negan#negan smith#negan smith x y/n#Negan cowboy#negan smith smut
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virgin sacrifice
a/n: you guys? hail satan.
summary: you didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.
warnings: dark!steve harrington x reader x dark!eddie munson, dark content, noncon/dubcon, smut, summer camp au (they are all camp counsellors), slasher au, virgin!reader, very innocent!reader, final girl!reader, established relationship, violence, murder, weapons, blood, devil worship, predator/prey, bondage, knife kink, dirty talk, pussy inspection, oral, fingering, anal
word count: 1389
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
It was the summer of 1986, right before you were supposed to go off to college and start your real life. It was also the summer when you worked as a counsellor at Camp Nebula, the very summer you fell in love for the first time. The summer when the most popular guy for some reason took notice of you and started calling you his girl.
Now, he was a tad bit more experienced than you and wasn’t shy to show you in ways that you always snuffed out before they could grow into anything uncouth. That’s not how you’d been raised, to lose your virginity in a summer camp’s tool shed, however gobsmacked he made you feel, you just couldn’t take that step.
No one had ever looked at you the way that he did, truly listened to you when you spoke, and even stood up for you, like whenever the camp’s freak would say things to you vulgar enough to render you speechless, your knight in shining armour would step in and save the day.
It was the perfect summer.
Was.
Completely perfect right up till the murders began to happen.
You didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.
Lungs burning, you sprinted through the dark camp, a flicking lamppost above illuminating the path you raced down, the ground littered with sharp pine needles.
When you made your way to the dining hall, the rotary phone inside, your plan of salvation, turned out to be just as dead as the summer friendships you’d thought would last a lifetime.
“There’s nowhere left for you to run, little lamb!” the petrifying roar from just outside the hall’s walls caused you to jump and scurry into the kitchen, though when you did, your gaze should have been directed in front of you and not over your shoulder as you swiftly crashed into a figure.
A blank mask stared down at you, one of the ones that the kids used for crafts, usually decorating them with an explosion of paint and beads.
Chuckling softly at the way you stumbled back, he playfully uttered, “boo!” raising his hands up to scare you, retroactively flashing you the blade fast in his grip. Half-obscured eyes stilled glued to you, the killer shouted over his shoulder, “found her!” and held the weapon outstretched to keep you where you were.
“Oh, good,” another masked murderer appeared as the back door was swung open, “well then let’s get this show on the road!”
“Please don’t kill me!” you cried as the one keeping you cornered grabbed you.
“Kill you?” one of them laughed, “oh honey, we’re gonna do so much more than just kill you,” before he got out a bundle of rope and gestured to his partner, “get her up on the table.”
Once they’d forced you down upon the cold steel surface and tied you up, they proceeded to reveal something to you that nearly caused your thumping heart to stop.
“…Steve?” you scarcely breathed as one of them plucked off his mask and tossed it onto a counter.
“Surprise,” your summer sweetheart flashed you a smile.
“But–… I’ve been looking for you everywhere all night, you–… you did this?”
“Well, don’t give him all the credit,” the other one peeled off his mask as well.
“Eddie?” you shuttered, “b-but you two hate each other.”
“That’s what we had to make you think so that no one would suspect a thing,” the long-haired rebel wiped some of the bloodstains on his blade clean on the hip of his jeans, “no one would ruin our plan.”
“Y-your plan?”
“Might as well tell her,” Eddie nudged his partner who shifted his grip on the axe heavy in his grasp, “since she has such a big part to play in it.”
“Oh, what the hell, why not,” Steve grinned and pulled over a rickety stool, “you see, there are things, wishes, that both me and Eddie have,” the man you thought you’d loved began to explain, “ambitions that, try as we might, we can’t achieve on our own. So, Eddie here found this old book, this tome, that explained a ritual that could grant us our deepest desires...” he uttered dreamily, “it was really quite simple when it came down to it… first 40 lives and then you.”
“…me?” your voice trembled, “why me? I’m not anyone special, I'm just–”
“Oh no, Y/n, you sweet, sweet dumb girl,” Steve chuckled darkly, “you are the final piece to the puzzle,” he stared directly into your soul, “our perfect little virgin sacrifice.”
Taking a step closer to your strapped-down form, Eddie’s stare danced down your frame, scrapes and dirt still tainting the uniform you’d freshly washed just this morning.
“But you know, the funny thing is, our lord and saviour down in hell has a funny and pretty ancient definition of what a virgin is,” he teasingly ran the flat side of his blade up the length of your leg, smiling as you squirmed, “sure, some things are off limits, but not a lot…,” the tip of his knife dipped under your shorts and sliced them in two. With the configuration that they had bound you in, everything was already embarrassingly on show, though even more so now that all of your clothes were cut off your frame. Completely mesmerised as the last shred left your form, Eddie uttered softly, “oh, this is gonna be so much fun.”
“What are you doing?” you struggled against the robes as Steve rose from his seat.
“It’s a real shame, baby,” his broad hands ran up your inner thigh, “I really did wanna pop your cherry myself, fuck I would have loved that, but I don’t deserve it as much as he does,” his thumbs, creeping up to either side of your core, extended out to wickedly spread you apart, “Satan may get to have your pussy,” you shuttered at the mortifyingly soppy sound that emanated as he briefly ran a finger though your folds, “but this little hole isn’t off limits,” his digit then swept down to draw a feathery circle over your rosebud.
“Nor this one,” Eddie’s hand found your cheeks in a pinch and forced your lips to pucker, “but we might have to do a bit of convincing in order to be able to play up here,” your body stiffened up as the cold edge of his blade then pressed against your throat, “no teeth, or else we won’t make you feel good, won’t give you a little treat before you help us contact the man downstairs.”
“How in the fuck do you think I’ll like any of this?” you spat back at him.
“Uh!” they both laughed and shared a glance before Eddie noted, “I think that might have been the first time I’ve ever heard little miss goody two shoes swear! That’s so cute!”
“Fuck you,” you wept, “you psycho–, oh!” a moan then ripped through your body and surprised you to the very core.
Glancing down between your legs, you saw that Steve was kissing you down there, his lips latched on to the little pearl that always seemed to throb in his presence.
“What was that about you not enjoying this?” his sloppy peck detached in an obscene pop, “because you sure are soaked for someone who doesn’t think it feels good to be played with… we’re gonna make you feel good, so good, your virgin ass couldn’t even fucking dream about it…” the sensation of Eddie’s palm snaked down to squeeze your tit, while Steve brought his broad thumb up to bully your glistening clit, grinning at how your untouched hole clenched around nothing for him, “just look at how fucking messy you are for us… fucking leaking all over the place…” a groan then escaped him as one of his digits dipped down to slowly sink into your tight ass, simply testing the waters before the pair of them utterly obliterated you, “fuck… you almost make me wanna keep you forever and just find a different virgin to take your place…”
© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#steve harrington smut#eddie munson smut#dark!eddie munson#dark!steve harrington#dark!steve harrington smut#dark!eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x reader#steddie x reader#dark!steddie#dark!fic#steddie smut#dark fic#dark!steddie x reader#steve harrington imagine#eddie munson imagine
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Whispers of Desires
You and your girlfriend are navigating the tender stages of experiencing your first time together.
Whispers of Desires is for 18+ only.
This piece contains intimate conversations about sex, characterized by a mix of awkward, shy, and loving moments. It also includes a depiction of soft, slow, and tender sexual activity, with a focus on emotional connection and mutual care.
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Note: I’ve spent a lot of time crafting this piece, and while it may be a bit longer than initially planned, I felt that each moment deserved the detail it received. I've adjusted it a little. I hope it meets everyone’s expectations. Thank you so much for the kind messages and support after the teaser. I appreciate it a lot.
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The kitchen is warm with the scent of freshly baked pastries, the lingering aroma of sugar and butter mixing with the comforting familiarity of Alexia’s home. You stand at the counter, carefully folding a dishcloth, trying to keep your thoughts focused on the simple, repetitive tasks. The to-do list lies nearby, a silent reminder of the things you can control, and the one thing you can't seem to face.
You glance at the list, its contents scribbled in your neat handwriting:
To-Do List: 1. Clean up the kitchen 2. Fold laundry 3. Talk to Alexia about her sexual desires
Your eyes linger on the third item, the one you've been dreading. With a sigh, you quickly strike through it, the pen's ink cutting across the words as if that could erase the anxiety gnawing at you. You can’t bring yourself to talk to her about that, not yet. What if the rumors are true? What if her desires are something you can't fulfill? You don’t want to lose her, but you also don’t want to lose yourself in the process.
You’ve heard all the rumors about Alexia Putellas. That she loves to dominate, to pull her partners apart with a fierce intensity. That she revels in control, in the thrill of the chase. That her passion is raw and fast. Each whisper you caught only fueled your anxiety, a churning storm of nerves that seemed impossible to quiet. You tried to ignore them, to push the thoughts aside, but they lingered in the back of your mind, casting shadows over the love you share.
And now, with the possibility of taking the next step in your relationship looming before you, the fear has only grown. You’re scared to take that step, terrified that your desires aren’t the same as hers. What if you can’t match her intensity? What if what she wants is something you can’t give? The thought of not being enough for her, of failing her in some way, sends a cold shiver down your spine.
You start wiping down the counters, moving in a methodical rhythm, each swipe of the cloth offering a brief distraction from the storm brewing in your mind. The sponge glides over the cool surface, removing traces of flour and sugar, but the tension in your chest remains.
As you straighten up the scattered baking supplies, your eyes drift toward the small, framed photo on the windowsill. It's a candid shot taken on a sunny day, the two of you caught mid-laughter, arms wrapped around each other, the kind of joy that feels almost too good to be true. The memory makes you pause, your fingers brushing the frame lightly as you wonder if you’re letting your fears overshadow the truth of what you have.
The whispers, the rumors, they all seem so distant when you think about the woman you know. The Alexia who smiles softly at you over breakfast, who texts you in the middle of the day just to say she misses you, who holds your hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. But still, the doubts linger, making you question whether you truly know her as well as you think.
The front door clicks open, and you hear the familiar sound of her footsteps, steady and sure, as they approach the kitchen. You barely have time to turn before she’s there, her presence filling the room with an effortless grace.
“Hola, amor,” she greets you, her voice soft and filled with warmth that wraps around you like a blanket. She glances around the kitchen, taking in the clean counters and organized space. “Cómo va todo?”
You quickly grab the to-do list, folding it in half and slipping it into your pocket before she can see the items you’ve been obsessing over. “Everything’s good,” you reply, hoping your voice sounds more steady than you feel. But Alexia is already closer, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of affection and curiosity.
Before she can ask anything more, you close the distance between you, leaning in to kiss her softly. Her lips are warm, and for a moment, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, shared moment. She hums contentedly against your lips, a small, pleased sound that makes your heart flutter.
“Mmm, that was nice,” she murmurs when you pull back, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She switches to English, her accent making the words sound even sweeter. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer into the safety of her embrace. “What were you up to, amor?”
“Just trying to get things sorted around here,” you say, your voice quieter now, more intimate. “How was your day?”
“Busy, but good,” she replies, her voice a little softer now, as if the closeness between you demands a gentler tone. “I missed you, though.” The sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten with emotion.
“I missed you too,” you admit, your hand resting on her arm, tracing small patterns on the sleeve of her shirt. You can feel the steady beat of her heart through the fabric, and it gives you a small sense of calm. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Alexia’s eyes soften as she leans in for another kiss, this one more urgent, more filled with the longing that has been building up in both of you throughout the day. Her lips move against yours with a tenderness that quickly deepens into something more, a hunger that you feel echoing in your own chest.
Your heart races as you return her kiss, your fingers threading through her hair, holding onto her as if she’s the only solid thing in your world. For a moment, you lose yourself in the warmth of her touch, in the way she makes you feel safe and cherished.
But as the kiss grows more intense, a wave of anxiety crashes over you, pulling you back to the surface. You break the kiss abruptly, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Alexia pulls back just enough to look at you, concern etched on her features.
“Qué pasa?” she asks softly, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture. Her eyes search yours, trying to understand what’s going on inside your head.
You struggle to find the words, torn between the love you feel for her and the fear that’s been gnawing at you for days. You want to be honest with her, to share what’s been weighing on your heart, but the words stick in your throat, refusing to come out. You’re scared, scared that your desires don’t match hers, scared that what she wants is something you’re not sure you can give. And more than anything, you’re scared of losing her, of the possibility that this might be something that could drive a wedge between you.
Alexia waits patiently, her gaze steady and filled with a quiet strength that both comforts and intimidates you. She deserves the truth, but you’re not sure you’re ready to face it yourself. Not yet.
Alexia's concerned gaze remains locked on you as you struggle to find the right words. Your chest tightens with the weight of your fears, and you can feel your face flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety. The warmth of her hand on your cheek feels comforting, yet it only amplifies your nervousness. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
“I—” you start, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been... thinking a lot about us, and, um, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” You stumble over the words, each one feeling like a hurdle you’re barely able to jump. You clear your throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “I mean, I know we’ve been... close and everything, and I love you so much, but... but I’ve heard some things, and I—”
You stop abruptly, your hands gesturing awkwardly as if trying to physically grasp the right words. The shame of not being able to articulate your feelings is almost overwhelming. You glance around, desperately searching for something to focus on.
Alexia, sensing your distress, gently guides you towards the couch. “Come on, amor,” she says softly, her voice soothing. “Let’s sit down. You look like you could use a minute.” She leads you to the couch and gestures for you to sit, her touch light but reassuring.
You sink onto the couch, feeling a mixture of relief and dread. Alexia moves to the kitchen, her movements quick but purposeful. She returns with two glasses of water, handing one to you. “Here, drink this. It might help you feel a bit better.”
You take the glass, your hands still trembling slightly as you sip the cool water. Alexia sits beside you, her proximity comforting, yet her eyes are filled with an inquisitive tenderness. She reaches out and takes your free hand in hers, squeezing it gently.
“Whatever it is, we can talk about it,” she says softly. “I’m here for you.”
Feeling the pressure of your emotions building, you fumble for the to-do list you’d tucked away in your pocket. With a sheepish glance at Alexia, you pull it out and hand it to her. Her eyes widen slightly as she looks down at the list, and you see a faint blush spread across her cheeks.
“I, um, I had this list,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It was supposed to help me keep track of things... but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about... that last item.” You gesture vaguely at the paper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Alexia’s eyes dart to the list, and she blushes lightly as she reads the crossed-out line. The color in her cheeks deepens, and she bites her lip, clearly feeling a bit awkward about the whole situation. “Oh, um...” she stammers, her cheeks growing warm. “I see you’ve, uh, crossed out that part.”
You can’t help but feel a pang of guilt as you watch her reaction. The sight of her blushing and stumbling over her words makes your heart ache. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I’ve been hearing these things, and I didn’t know if we were on the same page.”
Alexia’s eyes soften with understanding, even though she’s clearly flustered. She reaches out, gently squeezing your hand in a gesture of reassurance. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression,” she says, her voice a little shaky but kind. “I really didn’t mean to cause any worry. I guess I didn’t realize how much those rumors were affecting you.”
You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, they’ve been on my mind a lot,” you admit. “I’m just scared that my own desires might not match up with what you want. I’ve always preferred things to be a bit softer, you know?”
Alexia’s blush deepens, but she quickly shakes off her shyness, her eyes meeting yours with a sincere intensity. “I understand,” she says softly. “And I want to make sure you feel comfortable with us exploring this together.” She pauses, then adds, her voice growing more confident but still tinged with a hint of awkwardness, “I, um, like to be in control and, well, sometimes a bit rough. But that doesn’t mean we can’t adjust things to fit what we both want.”
You feel a wave of relief wash over you at her honesty. “Thank you for sharing that,” you say, your voice tinged with gratitude. “I really appreciate you being open with me. Can I ask you something? What do you like, exactly?”
Alexia takes a deep breath, her shyness melting away as she becomes more animated. “I, um, really enjoy taking the lead, feeling like I’m in charge,” she says, her eyes brightening with a newfound confidence. “But I also love hearing what you like, what makes you feel good. I want to make sure we both have what we need.”
Her willingness to adapt and consider your feelings makes you feel incredibly valued. You squeeze her hand back, your heart swelling with appreciation. “I like it when things are gentle and tender,” you admit, feeling more at ease now that the conversation is flowing openly. “It’s important to me that we both feel good about what we’re doing.”
After the conversation, the dynamic between you and Alexia shifts subtly but significantly. There’s a new warmth in her gaze, an added layer of intimacy that wasn’t there before. The initial awkwardness has melted away, replaced by a deeper understanding and a tangible current of desire that flows between you.
In the days that follow, the air seems charged with a new energy. You notice the way Alexia's touches linger a little longer, the way her kisses are filled with a gentle urgency that wasn’t there before. Conversations take on a more flirtatious tone, filled with playful teasing and soft, suggestive glances. The connection between you feels more electric, more alive, as if the boundaries between affection and desire have become wonderfully blurred.
One evening, after a particularly busy day, you find yourselves curled up on the couch together. The soft light of the lamp casts a warm glow around the room, creating an intimate cocoon where it’s just the two of you. Alexia’s head rests on your shoulder, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on your arm as you talk about your day.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about,” Alexia murmurs, her voice low and warm. Her breath tickles your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. “I’m really glad we had that conversation.”
“Me too,” you reply, your voice soft. “I feel like things are... different now, in a good way.”
Alexia lifts her head, her eyes meeting yours with a sparkle of playful mischief. “Different how?” she asks, her voice taking on a teasing edge.
You smile, feeling a flush of warmth at her proximity. “Well, for one, there’s this new... tension between us,” you say, your words coming out with a hint of nervousness and excitement. “I feel it every time we’re close.”
Alexia’s smile widens, her eyes darkening with a mix of affection and desire. “I’ve noticed that too,” she says softly. She leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss that quickly deepens into something more passionate. Her hands find their way to your face, cupping it gently as her kisses grow more fervent.
As the days pass, the physical connection between you both becomes more intense. You find yourselves stealing kisses whenever you can, your touches lingering with a newfound intensity. Each caress, each look, becomes a promise of what’s to come, a gentle build-up to the moment when you’ll finally give in to the desire that’s been growing between you.
With your heart full of anticipation and a touch of nervousness, you decide to make tonight special. Something that reflects the tender connection you both cherish. You spend the afternoon preparing, wanting every detail to be perfect.
The apartment is filled with the warm, inviting scent of your cooking. You’ve prepared a simple yet elegant dinner, something that you know Alexia loves. The table is set with your best dishes, a bottle of wine breathing on the side, and soft, flickering candlelight casting a golden glow over everything. The lights are dimmed, the apartment bathed in a warm, romantic ambiance that feels almost magical.
You’ve added little touches around the room. Fresh flowers in a vase on the table, the soft strains of music playing in the background, the living room rearranged slightly to create a more intimate setting. It’s a space that feels safe and inviting, designed to make tonight memorable.
As the time draws near, you catch yourself fidgeting with the edges of your dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, adjusting the candles on the table one last time. There’s a nervous flutter in your stomach, a mix of excitement and anxiety as you wait for Alexia to arrive. You want everything to be perfect, but more than that, you want to show her just how much she means to you.
As the final touches are set, you hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. You quickly smooth down the fabric of your dress, a soft blush warming your cheeks. You’ve chosen something special for tonight. An elegant dress that flows gracefully, making you feel beautiful and confident, even if your heart is still racing with anticipation.
When Alexia steps into the apartment, she pauses in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the sight of you. Her reaction is immediate and genuine. A wide, happy smile spreads across her face, lighting up her features. For a moment, she just stands there, staring at you as if she’s seeing you for the first time. The look of admiration in her eyes makes your heart swell with warmth.
“Wow,” she breathes out, her voice tinged with awe. “You look... increíble, amor. So beautiful.” She takes a step closer, her gaze sweeping over you with a mixture of affection and admiration. “I—I’m so lucky,” she stammers, her usual confident demeanor giving way to a shy, almost bashful expression.
You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at her praise, and you can’t help but smile shyly. “Thank you,” you reply, feeling a rush of warmth from her words. The way she’s looking at you makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.
Alexia’s gaze then shifts momentarily to her own outfit—casual training wear that she’s clearly worn just for comfort. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she nervously tugs at the hem of her sweatshirt. “Oh, I, um... I didn’t realize I’d be, uh, underdressed,” she stammers, her eyes flitting between you and her own attire. “I didn’t expect—”
You cut her off gently, stepping closer and taking her hand in yours. “You look great,” you say sincerely, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I love how soft and relaxed you look. I just wanted to make tonight special for you, for us. It’s not about the clothes. It’s about being together.”
Alexia’s blush deepens, but she seems to relax at your words. She looks into your eyes with a mixture of gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softening. “You really didn’t have to do all this, but it means so much that you did.”
Without another word, she leans in and presses a tender kiss to your lips. The kiss is warm and full of affection, a perfect encapsulation of the love and understanding that has blossomed between you. When she pulls back, her eyes are filled with a soft, loving glow. “I’m really lucky to have you,” she murmurs, her voice full of emotion.
Her words are reassuring, and you feel your nervousness begin to fade, replaced by a sense of calm. You lead her to the table, pulling out her chair before taking your seat across from her. The candles flicker between you, casting soft shadows on her face as she looks at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell.
Dinner is a quiet, intimate affair. The conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared glances that say more than words ever could. The food is delicious, but it’s the company that truly makes the evening special. With each passing moment, the connection between you deepens, the unspoken promise of what’s to come lingering in the air.
After the last bite of dessert, Alexia leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving yours. “This was amazing,” she says, her voice low and warm. “Thank you for doing all of this.”
You smile, feeling a flush of pride at her words. “I’m glad you liked it. I just wanted us to have a night that’s... just for you, for us.”
Alexia’s eyes soften even more, and she reaches across the table to take your hand, her thumb gently stroking the back of it. “You’ve made me feel so special tonight,” she murmurs, her voice filled with emotion. “And I want to make sure you feel the same.”
The intensity in her gaze sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s a different kind of shiver than the anxiety you’ve felt before. It’s one of anticipation, of knowing that you’re about to share something incredibly intimate and meaningful with the person you love. You nod, unable to find the right words to express what you’re feeling, but knowing that she understands.
She stands, pulling you up with her, and with a gentle smile, she leads you into the living room. The atmosphere here is even more intimate, the music playing softly in the background, the candles you’d placed around the room casting a soft, romantic glow. Alexia pauses in the middle of the room, turning to face you, her hands resting lightly on your waist.
She looks at you with such affection, such care, that it takes your breath away. “Are you okay?” she asks softly, her voice filled with concern and love. “We can take things slow, amor. There’s no rush.”
You nod, your heart full of love for her. “I’m okay,” you reply, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I want this... with you.”
Alexia’s smile is soft and full of warmth. She leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, one that speaks of all the tenderness she feels for you. The kiss deepens slowly, her hands moving up to cup your face, her thumbs brushing your cheeks in a gesture that is both protective and loving.
As the kiss lingers, your hands find their way to her back, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. The room seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of intimacy. The fears and doubts that had once clouded your mind now seem distant, replaced by the certainty that this moment, this connection, is exactly where you’re meant to be.
When she pulls back slightly, her forehead resting against yours, you can see the love and desire in her eyes, tempered by the same care she’s shown throughout the night. “I want you to feel safe with me,” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin. “And I want you to tell me if there’s anything you need, anything you want.”
You nod, your heart swelling with emotion. “I feel safe with you,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your feelings. “And I want to be with you... just like this.”
Her smile is full of understanding, and she takes your hand, leading you to the couch where you’d spent so many nights talking, laughing, and just being together. But tonight, it feels different. There’s a sense of anticipation, of something new and beautiful blooming between you.
She sits down, pulling you gently onto her lap, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both protective and possessive. Her lips find yours again, the kiss slow and tender, her hands exploring your body with a softness that speaks of her care for you. You feel her breath hitch slightly as her hands move over the curves of your body, her desire evident but tempered by the gentle way she touches you.
You respond in kind, your hands moving through her hair, down her back, holding her close as you both sink deeper into the kiss. The world outside ceases to exist, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace.
Her lips trail from your mouth to your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, each one sending a shiver of pleasure through you. Her hands continue their gentle exploration, never rushing, always mindful of the pace you’ve set together. You can feel the tension in her body, the restraint she’s holding onto, and it only makes you love her more.
You shift slightly, straddling her lap, your hands resting on her shoulders as you look into her eyes. “Alexia,” you whisper, your voice filled with all the love and desire you feel. “I want this... with you.”
Her eyes darken with desire, but there’s also a softness there, a tenderness that reassures you. “I want this too,” she murmurs, her hands settling on your hips, holding you close. “More than anything.”
The moment feels like it’s wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and mutual affection. Alexia’s fingers gently trace the curves of your waist, and you can feel the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second.
Suddenly, with a playful glint in her eye, Alexia shifts slightly beneath you and starts to rise. You yelp in surprise, your arms tightening instinctively around her shoulders as she lifts you effortlessly from her lap. Her strength is both reassuring and exhilarating, a reminder of her athletic prowess.
“Whoa, careful!” you laugh nervously, gripping her tightly as she stands up. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she chuckles softly at your reaction.
“Relax,” Alexia teases gently, her voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you. I’m an athlete, remember?” She holds you securely against her, her muscles flexing as she adjusts her grip to make sure you’re comfortable.
With a tender smile, Alexia walks slowly towards the bed, her steps measured and deliberate. As she reaches the edge of the mattress, she carefully lowers you onto the soft surface. Despite her careful movements, you cling to her, your arms wrapped around her neck as if reluctant to let go.
She pauses for a moment, her eyes roaming over your body with a mixture of admiration and affection. Her gaze lingers on you, taking in the sight of you stretched out on the bed, your dress clinging to your form in a way that makes her eyes darken with desire.
A warm, affectionate smile spreads across her face as she looks up at you. The connection between you both feels electric, charged with an intensity that makes your heart race. Without breaking eye contact, Alexia leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. The kiss is soft and lingering, a promise of the intimacy to come.
As she deepens the kiss, she begins to lay her own weight down beside you, her body pressing against yours with a comforting warmth. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, syncing with your own in a rhythm that feels perfectly natural.
Her hands explore your dress, her fingers tracing along the fabric as she starts to unfasten it. You help her, your movements synchronized as you pull the dress up and over your head. The dress slides off with a soft rustle, leaving you in your underwear.
Alexia’s fingers trail along your exposed skin, her touch light and teasing. She smiles up at you, her gaze filled with adoration. “You look beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice low and sincere. The way she looks at you makes you feel cherished, every inch of you appreciated.
She then starts to peel off her tracksuit, her movements slightly awkward as she tries to juggle her clothing while maintaining her focus on you. You help her, your fingers brushing against her skin as you assist with removing the tracksuit. Her clothes fall to the floor in a soft heap, leaving her in a simple, form-fitting top and underwear.
With the room filled with a tender, expectant silence, you take a deep breath, your fingers hovering hesitantly above her skin. You let your hands drift toward her chest, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You want to trace your fingers over her beautiful breasts, but you hesitate, unsure if you’re crossing any boundaries.
Shyly, you lift your gaze to meet hers, seeking reassurance in her eyes. The vulnerability in your expression is met with a soft, reassuring smile from Alexia. Her eyes, full of warmth and encouragement, seem to invite you to continue.
“Está bien, amor,” she whispers in Spanish, her voice soothing and full of affection. She gently takes your hands in hers, guiding them with a loving touch to cup her breasts. The warmth of her skin beneath your palms is both exhilarating and comforting.
As you make contact, Alexia lets out a soft, breathy moan, a sound so beautiful and intimate that it sends a shiver of pleasure through you. The sound resonates deeply within you, amplifying the connection you share and making you feel incredibly close to her.
With a gentle yet assertive grace, Alexia begins to take more control of the moment. She shifts her weight slightly, pressing her body more firmly against yours, allowing her warmth and softness to envelop you. Her hands glide over your body with a tenderness that feels both exhilarating and reassuring.
“Just let me guide you,” she murmurs softly, her voice a mix of confidence and tenderness. “Tell me what you like, and we’ll explore this together.”
You nod, your breath coming in soft, uneven gasps as you let her lead. Her fingers trail down your sides, exploring your curves with a careful touch that sends waves of pleasure through you. She lifts her gaze to yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, and you respond with a soft, encouraging smile, giving her the silent permission she needs.
Alexia’s hands continue their journey, gently slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. She eases them down slowly, her movements deliberate and careful as she uncovers your skin. The cool air against your exposed core contrasts with the warmth of her touch, intensifying the sensations you're experiencing.
As she removes your underwear completely, she turns her attention to her own, her fingers deftly working to peel them away. The sight of her undressing, her body illuminated by the soft light, makes your heart race with anticipation. When she finally discards her last piece of clothing, she pauses, letting you take in the beauty of her fully exposed form.
Overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment, you slowly shift into a sitting position on the bed, reaching out to wrap your arms around her. The softness of her skin against your body is electrifying, and you hold her close, your breath mingling with hers.
You lean in to plant gentle kisses on her exposed breasts, your lips brushing against her warm skin with a reverence that conveys just how much you adore her. Each kiss is tender, filled with love and a desire to show her how much she means to you.
You then trail your kisses down her left inner arm, admiring the beauty of her tattoo as your lips make contact with her skin, adding a layer of intimacy and appreciation to the tattoo. You slowly and softly set you teeth in her soft flesh.
The sensation of your kisses and bites elicits a soft, appreciative sigh from Alexia, her body responding to the gentle affection. “I like that,” she murmurs softly, her voice laced with warmth and pleasure. “It feels so good.”
She continues to revel in the intimacy you’re sharing, her hands tenderly caressing your back as you continue to kiss her. The closeness between you both becomes even more palpable, each touch and kiss a testament to your deep connection.
After a while, with a loving and considerate touch, Alexia gently guides you back onto the bed. “Let’s take our time,” she says softly, her voice filled with reassurance. As she helps you settle onto your back, her gaze remains tender and attentive, ensuring you feel both comfortable and cherished.
Once you’re comfortably situated, Alexia positions herself above you with a graceful and deliberate motion. Her core makes contact with yours, and she begins to move with a slow, rhythmic motion. She rocks back and forth with a gentle, deliberate pace, creating a sensation that blends pleasure with the perfect amount of pressure.
Her movements are tender yet purposeful, each shift and glide against you enhancing the intimate connection you’re experiencing together. The rhythm she sets is both soothing and stimulating, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the shared moment of closeness. The feeling of her body moving against yours is a harmonious dance of pleasure and tenderness, deepening the bond you share and making each moment feel incredibly special.
As the pleasure builds, you finally allow yourself to be vocal about how good she makes you feel. Soft, breathy moans escape your lips, each sound a testament to the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. You find yourself unable to keep quiet, your voice betraying the immense pleasure you’re experiencing. The sounds you make only seem to encourage Alexia, her own movements becoming more attuned to your responses, amplifying the mutual pleasure you both are sharing.
As the pleasure between you builds, Alexia’s focus remains unwaveringly on you. Her eyes, filled with a mix of adoration and passion, roam over your face and body. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, her voice tender and filled with genuine appreciation. “And you make me feel so incredible.”
Her words are a soothing balm, adding to the warmth of the moment. The pleasure between you becomes almost overwhelming, and in the throes of it, her movements start to quicken. The rhythm of her grinding grows faster, her passion driving her actions as she becomes more lost in the sensation.
In her heightened state of desire, Alexia’s hand reaches out and firmly grabs your right breast, her fingers pinching your nipple roughly. The unexpected intensity makes you gasp in surprise, your body reacting sharply to the sensation. Her eyes widen in alarm as she notices your reaction, and she immediately halts her movements.
“Oh mierda, lo siento, lo siento mucho,” she breathes, her voice laced with concern. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Despite the sudden stop, the sensation had been unexpectedly pleasurable, and you find yourself blushing, feeling exposed but also intrigued. You look up at her, your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. “It, um, actually felt good,” you admit shyly. “If you want to, you can continue.”
Alexia’s expression shifts from concern to a warm, relieved smile. Her eyes reflect a blend of affection and excitement as she takes your words to heart. “Are you sure?” she asks softly, her voice tender and filled with a gentle eagerness.
You nod, feeling a newfound confidence in sharing your desires. “Yes, I’m sure,” you affirm. “I trust you, and I want to experience this with you.”
With your reassurance, Alexia resumes her movements, her touch becoming more deliberate and attentive as she finds a rhythm that balances both pleasure and sensitivity. Her continued exploration of your body is filled with a renewed passion and care, ensuring that every moment is both thrilling and deeply intimate.
As the sensations between you intensify, Alexia’s movements become a rhythmic dance of passion and tenderness. Her body rocks gently but purposefully against yours, each motion sending waves of pleasure through you. She maintains a steady gaze, her eyes never leaving yours, communicating unspoken affection and desire.
“You feel so amazing,” she murmurs softly, her voice a tender caress against your ear. “I love the way you respond to me.”
Her words are a constant comfort, her sweet reassurances adding an extra layer of intimacy to the moment. She leans down to kiss you, her lips finding yours with a fervent yet gentle touch. The kiss is a melding of emotions, a silent conversation of love and longing that deepens with each passing second.
As the pleasure reaches its peak, her hands move with a delicate precision, enhancing the sensations and making sure you feel cherished and adored. She holds you close, her body pressed against yours, and the steady rhythm of her movements becomes a perfect symphony of shared ecstasy.
The culmination of your mutual pleasure comes as a breathtaking crescendo. You both feel the rush of release, a powerful and overwhelming wave that washes over you, leaving you breathless and blissful. Alexia’s soft, contented moans mix with your own vocal expressions of pleasure, creating a harmony that is both beautiful and deeply personal.
You kiss her tenderly, your lips moving in a gentle rhythm that matches the lingering waves of pleasure. The kiss is a promise of love and devotion, a sweet exchange that further cements the bond you share. Her hands cradle your face, her touch tender and reassuring as she pulls back slightly to look into your eyes.
“Thank you for being so amazing,” you whisper, your voice filled with genuine affection. “I’ve never felt this close to anyone before.”
Alexia’s eyes shine with a mix of love and satisfaction. “It’s because of you,” she replies softly. “You’ve made this so special. I love you so much.”
As the euphoria of the moment begins to settle, Alexia’s teasing smile makes a reappearance, her eyes twinkling with playful affection. She leans in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face before speaking, her tone light yet filled with meaning.
“I don’t stand a chance of having a normal life with you, do I?” she teases, her voice laced with warmth. “You’ve made me want to do this with you every single moment, exploring new things, finding out what we both like. We’re just getting started, and I’m so excited to explore even more with you.”
She punctuates her words with that little shy smile of hers, the one that always manages to melt your heart. It’s a perfect blend of her natural confidence and the sweet, awkward vulnerability that makes her so endearing.
You can’t help but laugh softly at her words, feeling both exhilarated and a little overwhelmed by the intensity of your connection. “Gosh, what have I gotten myself into?” you tease back, your tone playful but your heart swelling with affection.
Alexia chuckles, her smile widening as she leans down to kiss you again, this time more slowly, savoring the moment. “Whatever it is, I hope you’re ready for it,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice carrying both a promise and a challenge.
“I am,” you whisper back, feeling a surge of anticipation for the adventures yet to come.
With her by your side, you’re ready to explore everything. Every desire, every emotion, every new discovery. As you lie there in each other’s arms, the future feels wide open, full of possibility, and you know without a doubt that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
As you hold Alexia close, the warmth of her embrace and the depth of your connection make you realize how unfounded your doubts had been. In this moment of intimacy and understanding, you know with certainty that your fears were unnecessary, and that what you share is stronger and more beautiful than you ever imagined.
-
Note: I realize that some transitions might not be as smooth as l'd like, and plan to refine them later. I just wanted to share this now, even though I haven't done a thorough grammar check yet. Please be gentle with your feedback!
#woso x reader#woso#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso one shot#woso smut#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas one shot#alexia putellas fanfic#alexia putellas smut
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Power over you
Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: NSFW / going down on her / cursing / explicit se&ual actions
Paul likes to be in charge
Words: 1k
_______________________
His touch leaves your skin burning.
Your heartbeat doubled when he grabbed you by the neck, forcing you to look him directly in the eyes. Such lovely eyes, yet so full of a dark desire. The same desire you feel in every fiber of your being.
„I’ve been imagining this the whole day. You are driving me insane, love.“ His thumb gently touching your lips to part them a little bit. Paul thinks about so many things those lips of yours could do and what he would do in return for you.
You give him a cheeky grin. „That was the plan, Atreides. See it as a challenge on how long you could hold yourself back.“ You let your hands explore his tense chest. Feel every muscle moving under his thin shirt, as you touch him. The power you have over him makes the desire even more intense. His eyes darkened as your fingertips reach the waistband of his pants and his breathing just got heavier. There is no doubt about how much Paul wants you right now. The thought of you doing some bad things were in his mind for hours, so much that he had trouble on focusing on the important meeting he had with Stillgar and some other Fremen … he don’t even remembered what it was about. Paul was only thinking of you, being willingly under his control. So that he could do whatever he desires to.
„Even if I wanted to hold myself back… I wouldn’t be able to“, his voice was not more than a breathy whisper. Paul caged you with his body against the wall. Your back fully pressed against hard stone, but you couldn’t care less. „I’m so fucking weak when it comes to you.“
He kissed you with a hunger that can not be satisfied. He would never get enough of this. Paul knew he would never get enough of you. His strong hands reached beneath your thighs, lifting you up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. A little moan escaped your mouth and it made him grin a winning smile. Paul knows exactly how much you wanted him. And it made him proud like nothing else could do.
You could feel his length through the fabric of his pants, making you even more impatient to feel him all over you … and deep inside. Your fingers clawing onto his back, probably leaving marks on it. Paul was kissing you until you run out of breath, then moving his lips to your throat, making it even harder for you to concentrate. He knows all your weak spots and how to use them against you.
His hands exploring your thighs and hips. Holding you with a strong grip so that you couldn’t escape him at any chance. Not that you wanted to. Your fingers running through his dark curls, pulling it gently. He growls. Paul is not the only one who knows how to use weak spots. Now he lost all hesitation that was left to this point. He tightens his grip around your hips, moving you from the wall to the next table. A surprised smile shows on your lips and he kissed it like he wanted to make it his own.
You impatiently pulling his shirt until he lets go of you for a split second so you could drag it over his head. His bare chest and the defined abs came to light and you lose no time to let your fingers explore every inch of his body. You can feel him shivering beneath your touch. Paul decides that it was his turn now. He loves watching you enjoying your power over him, but to see you loosing your mind because of him and what he would do is even more of a turn on for him.
He pulls the straps of your dress down, so that the useless fabric is now laying around your waist. His eyes wandering down your body, admiring every part of it. Even the scars from the many battles you fought. Some of them by his side.
„You are so fucking beautiful, my love.“
You wanted to say something, but suddenly his lips were on your collarbone and the ability to form words vanished from your brain with every kiss he places on your skin, making his way down to your weakest spot. His tongue begins to move and a sharp scream bursts out of your chest. You grab his hair to keep him right there. Nothing in the world could bring Paul to go somewhere else. He enjoyed this way to much. Feeling you loose control. Tasting how much you want him. One of his hands pressing on your lower belly to make the incredible feeling even more intense. Every part of his body was screaming for you, but he wanted to make sure that you get what you deserve first.
The moment Paul was using his fingers to help his tongue was the exact moment your world shattered into thousand pieces. You couldn’t hold your own body up, so you laid your head back and let the feeling of satisfaction take control over you. Your thighs shaking uncontrollably as Paul shoves you over the cliff.
He loved that. He would fucking kill somebody for the satisfaction of making you shake like that.
Slowly he comes back to his feet. Pulling your hips to the edge of the table. Your vision was a little blurry, but you could see that beautiful, dark smile he gave you. Paul placed a soft kiss on your lips, as he shoved himself deep inside you. Your fingernails scratching the skin of his back. Paul moans against your lips and begins to move his hips against yours. The rhythm started slowly but became faster with every thrust. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, his arms holding you so very close to him and the both of you moving in perfect harmony.
As both of you reached the climax, out of breath and sweaty all you hear, was the wild beat of your own heart, pounding at the same rhythm as Pauls. He leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closed and lost in the moment.
„I love you, y/n“, Paul whispered.
You kiss him softly. „And i love you, Paul.“
_______________________
Thanks for reading! Comments, Likes & Reblogs are very welcome (but no stealing pls) <3
#dune movie#dune part one#dune part two#paul atredies x reader#paul atreides#paul atreides x you#desire#intimacy#paul muad'dib#paul atreides x reader#dune fanfic#dune images#paul atreides fanfic#smut#paul atreides smut
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Discovery - Part Four
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie's feeling the lowest she has in a long time. Things are at the tipping point and she needs to choose to either confront things head on or lose you forever.
Warnings: G!P content. Heavy angst. Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts; themes of rejection and self-loathing; self-sabotaging behaviours. Language.
A/N: Chapters one, two and three.
“I can’t believe you. I’ve waited all day to hear from you - and nothing. After everything that happened, you just leave in the middle of the night and just dead silence. Are you kidding me, Jess?”
“First you give me the cold shoulder all evening without any explanation as to why. Started by a conversation you began, might I add. I tell you I love you. We kiss and you literally throw me off of you.”
“Yes, I was upset and I didn’t want to talk. But you just ghost me all day? I know you withdraw when you’re upset or overwhelmed, but you don’t even have the decency to check in with me or give me some kind of an explanation?”
Jessie sunk into her seat on the couch as she read your messages again. She’d been staring at them on and off for the past hour and felt paralyzed, unable to act.
She’d managed to make it to training this morning, but she was certainly worse for wear. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark circles under them from a mix of sleep deprivation and the time she’d spent crying. Her teammates immediately clocked her upset and some fawned over her trying to suss things out and help, but she was largely unresponsive.
She just wanted to do her drills to keep her mind off of you and the absolute disaster she’d created.
Coach recommended she talk to the sports therapist, and while she nodded her agreement, she had no intention of rushing. She already knew what they’d say and she wasn’t interested right now. If she was willing to do those things, guess what, she wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament in the first place.
So here she sat at home this evening, in self-imposed solitude and catatonic. The apartment was dead quiet as she flipped between scrolling distractedly through her phone and re-reading messages with you and looking at pictures of the two of you.
She needed to respond. But it seemed no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out what to say. Nothing was remotely adequate. She let out a shuddering breath as she continued to remain inert.
Her heart raced as another message came in from you.
“I’d like to think we’d built enough of a connection and you have enough respect for me to at least acknowledge me and respond. I’ve been sitting here making up excuses in my head for you all day, but reality is, you just choose not to talk to me.”
She let her head fall heavily back against the wall with a dull thud. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists as she felt herself start to tear up yet again.
The end felt inevitable, but underneath all of her fear and anxiety it isn’t what she wanted. It would be easier perhaps. Just close herself off again. Be single again for god knows how long. She was exceptional at pushing people away and pretending it didn’t matter.
Then, maybe, when it felt safe again and the hardship she was currently experiencing was just a distant memory, she would hope to meet someone as incredible as you again. But for what? So she could compare them to you? Miss you? To fuck it all up again?
She released a slow, steady breath and brought her phone back up to reply.
“I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I was at training earlier and I guess I just didn’t know what to say.”
“She lives. Well, thank you for replying... So. Do you know what you want to say now?”
She sighed in frustration.
“No.”
She shouldn’t be so curt.
“I wish I did.”
“Well. That’s very helpful.”
“I have some things I want to say. But if you’re not interested in hearing them or trying to resolve anything, I suppose there’s no point.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek.
“I want to know.”
“Do you actually? Because, frankly, even if I told you how I feel last night, I’m not that interested in humiliating myself further or wasting my time if we’re not on the same page.”
Jessie’s chest constricted painfully as she read your message. She never used to consider herself a selfish person, but seeing the toll she’d taken on you, she couldn’t deny it. She wiped angrily at a stray tear at the corner of her eye.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to feel that way and I’m sorry I’ve caused it. I do want to hear what you have to say.”
“I don’t want to do this through text. It’s going to fucking suck but I want to talk in person.”
Jessie sat forward to the edge of the couch and leaned her forearms heavily against her thighs as she studied your message.
She was scared. She didn’t want to do that. Still, she owed you that, the truth, and so much more. And even if you left hating her, she had to make sure you knew it really was all her - you’d been perfect and all of this rot branched from her.
And if it really was the end, she couldn’t resist seeing you one more time.
“Okay. Where and when?”
—————
Jessie’s hands were cold and clammy as she walked down the hall to your apartment. She breathed heavily before catching herself and steadying them. She compulsively opened and closed her fists as she waited for you to answer.
When you opened the door, your expression was a far cry from the one she was used to seeing greet her. Instead of seeing a bright or warm smile, you looked tired and weary.
Guilt radiated through Jessie; she caused this single-handedly. She was supposed to make you happy, bring you comfort, make you feel safe and loved. Instead, she left you looking like a shell of yourself. Slowly at first, small nicks here and there, before a catastrophic and now lingering blow.
“Come in,” you said with only the slightest inflection in your voice. You stepped aside but didn’t make eye contact as Jessie entered.
“I, um, got you this,” Jessie said after she set her shoes aside and took off her backpack. She pulled a vinyl record out of it and handed it to you. She met your discerning gaze briefly before dropping it to the record in her hand. “I know you’ve been looking for it, so…”
You tentatively took it from her, a frown on your face as you examined it.
“Thanks,” you said flatly.
She knew it wouldn’t fix things or make things up to you - not by a long shot - but she had the faintest hope you would be more receptive.
When she forced herself to look up at you again, she saw you still studying the record. Eventually, your frown deepened and you looked at her almost accusingly.
“I don’t get you,” you said. “You barely talk to me these past couple of days and you act all cagey but then you do this? It doesn’t make sense.”
Your face faltered briefly before you grew stoic once more. “Some days you seem to really like me. Really care for me and understand me and we connect so well. And then others it feels like you can hardly stand to look at me.” A flash of emotion appeared on your face and disappeared just as fast. Your voice strained vaguely before you steadied it. “Never mind touch me.”
Jessie swallowed and dropped her gaze in shame. You went on, your voice cracking.
“I’ve tried to be really patient. But after the other night…I’ve done a lot of thinking and I can’t help but admit how hard it’s been.”
You sighed heavily and set the record down on a nearby table before returning and folding your arms tightly against yourself and leaning back against the wall. Your brow was heavy with a frown.
“And I know you've been trying." Your voice grew taut. "Prior anyway. And that's probably what makes it the worst. It's been hard for you, too - to be with me." Your face fell and your lip trembled briefly as you looked away.
Jessie's heart ached as she watched you battle with your emotions. All of the fear and worry she'd let dominate her fell away, replaced with an overwhelming need to hold you and make you feel better.
"It hasn't been," Jessie beseeched, taking a step forward but stopping when your gaze flicked back to her, warning.
"Do you think I’m stupid?" You said sharply. "I know you can’t stand to touch me. At first, I kept trying to give myself, and you, the benefit of the doubt - but the other night really proved that not only do you most definitely not find me attractive,” you laughed acerbically, “I think I might actually even repulse you.” You stared at her a moment, letting your words hang in the air and feigning amusement before choking back a sob. You visibly clenched your jaw before you forced another empty laugh. “That’s a fun one. My therapist’s about to get a ton of business from me.”
You took a shuddering breath and your voice cracked as you spoke. "I already know how this ends.”
“That’s not at all what’s happening or how I feel,” Jessie protested. She pressed the heels of her palms firmly into her eyes and grit her teeth. Her voice strained with burgeoning emotion. “Jesus Christ. That’s not it at all."
Your face screwed up and you gave a sad shake of your head as you stared her down.
“Stop. Just stop with the vague excuses. Just be honest with me. I don’t need you to confirm it, but don’t lie and tell me otherwise. I can tell,” voice breaking at the end. “Every time you pull away. How uncomfortable you can be when we’re even remotely physical. You can’t stand to kiss me for any length of time. I can feel you just waiting to pull away, like you’re fucking counting down the seconds until it’s over.” You started sobbing. “It’s horrible. Knowing you don’t want me like I want you.”
Jessie took a step toward you and you recoiled. She couldn’t help but think - maybe much like how she had with you times before.
“And don’t give me this whole ‘you’re shy’ or ‘you’re awkward’ thing again. I deserve more than your excuses.” Your voice grew softer. “And it’s not your fault you feel the way you do. You can’t control who you’re attracted to. Sometimes there can be an emotional connection and the physical just isn’t there. I don’t blame you. But I do blame you for dragging this out." You sniffled, wiping agitatedly at a tear that rolled down your cheek before giving her a defiant stare. "So just do what you should’ve done from the beginning.”
“It’s not you,” Jessie started and immediately saw the way you tensed up, ready to argue. She spoke quickly and urgently, her voice pleading for mercy and understanding. “It’s not you. I promise. It’s me - and I know how that sounds. But you were never the problem. I need you to know that.”
You looked ready to explode and Jessie knew it was now or never.
"It's me. I-it's my body. And I've been terrified that you won't accept me," she stammered through, hands to her chest as her gaze remained rooted to the floor. Her lips parted and her shoulders rose and fell as her breathing began to quicken. She swallowed and found the courage to look up at you to see a scrutinizing, but perplexed expression on your face.
"I'm not like you," Jessie said softly, "or most girls. Physically." She held your gaze for a second, to let you begin to process, but to give her time to think as well. She could see you were confused, but you waited quietly for her to go on. "I-I," she started, before stopping to take a steadying breath, her shoulders relaxing as she did so. "I've always been different."
She was slow to proceed and you spoke tentatively, all accusations and harshness now gone.
"What do you mean? How so?"
Jessie swallowed, eyes transfixed on the floor once more. She scratched at the back of her neck so harshly that it hurt.
"The reason I can't be physical with you is because what you would see, and feel," she looked up at you as she exhaled, "isn't what you would expect." She studied you as you processed her words. "That's why I asked you if you'd slept with guys," she finished timidly, embarrassment and shame creeping in despite her efforts.
Your mouth fell open to speak, but nothing came out. You frowned and visibly struggled with what to say next. Jessie's mouth was dry, but she had to take the next step.
"Even though I'm a girl, I have...what a guy has," she said quietly.
Your mouth opened wider to speak, but still nothing came out. You held up a poised finger, cuing her to wait. Eventually you found your words. Jessie held your gaze despite how difficult it was.
"Are you telling me that you have...," you trailed off, your gaze settling on her crotch momentarily before looking up at her, a tinge of pink already on your cheeks, "...a cock?"
Jessie released a slow, shuddering breath through her nose as she continued to hold your gaze. She nodded.
"Yes."
She saw your eyebrows raise as you looked away and her words and emotions just came out in a torrent.
"So if you think I've been struggling, you're right, but that's why," she said bitterly, tears in her eyes already. "It really had nothing to do with you. You've been so perfect. And it's been killing me to lie to you. And to hurt you. But I've been so scared - and I just," she took a shaky breath, "I know I'm not what you signed up for. You didn't deserve any of this, but I was being selfish. I wanted you. And I didn't want to risk losing you, so I just kept lying and the longer I waited, the more impossible it felt to tell you." Jessie's voice broke and she wiped her nose before pulling her arms in tightly against herself.
"And in the end I fucked it all up. And I hate myself for hurting you the way I have. Hearing how I...," she trailed off, gesturing vaguely at you before clenching her jaw tightly. "Hurting you is probably the worst thing I've ever done." Her voice grew high as she fought through her emotions. "And I don't deserve your forgiveness. I would gladly take it, but I know I don't deserve it. You deserve far better than someone who would hurt someone they love the way I've hurt you."
Your brow furrowed as she finished and Jessie swallowed once more, clearing her throat before speaking. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it back the other night. I really wanted to." She gave you a desperate look. "I know it must seem like I have zero integrity, but, I couldn't tell you I love you without telling you," she paused, gaze falling briefly, "all of this." She looked back at you, taking in a slow breath. "I really do love you. And I want so much more for us, but I realize now that even if you were okay...with me...well, with the way I've gone about everything, I've probably ruined any chance for us."
Her face fell as more tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.
"I'm so sorry. I just need you to know that you shouldn't feel badly about yourself, because you were never the problem. It was always me."
"This is a lot for me to process," you said slowly, thumb grazing idly along your arm. You glanced over at the couch for a moment before glancing back at her. "Um, why don't we sit down."
Jessie sniffled, overcome with surprise that you'd invite her in further. It took her a moment to comprehend it, but soon nodded eagerly. She followed you wordlessly to the couch, remaining standing as you took a seat. You looked at her expectantly before gesturing to the spot next to you.
She was mindful of the space between you. She didn't want to sit too close and inadvertently imply that things were suddenly fine. She sat stiffly, back straight, hands on the tops of her thighs as she deferred to you on how to proceed. She glanced at you in trepidation, waiting, but when you didn't say anything for several moments she spoke again.
"I completely understand that this is a lot to process," she validated with a fleeting glance. "While I've been thinking about nothing but this for months, this is all new to you."
"Yeah," you said quietly, still very much in your thoughts.
"And I want you to know that you don't owe me anything," she said. "I completely understand if this is too much for you or not what you want. No hard feelings." She almost laughed at the last statement as she sat here, congested and teary-eyed. There would be a lot of feelings, but not hard feelings. She rubbed her forehead. "And I understand if there are hard feelings towards me. I'm sorry I was such a coward. I just-" she shook her head quickly, dismissing the thought. "Never mind."
She heard you exhale gently and she peeked over at you. You were initially still, but soon shifted, surprising Jessie as you turned subtly towards her.
"Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of questions. And I still have a lot of confusing feelings and hurt. But - I meant it when I said I love you. So it's hard to see you hurting like this." You scratched at your temple before looking up at her. "Did I do something to make it harder for you to tell me?"
Jessie turned to you fully, a stern look on her face. "No," she said adamantly. "You were," she shrugged listlessly, "you really were - are - amazing. I guess I just let old fears and baggage control me."
"What do you mean?" You asked tentatively before holding up your hands and speaking quickly. "And if I ask something that's too much - just say so. I don't want to make you more uncomfortable."
Jessie frowned deeper. "You're too good for me," she said simply. "You shouldn't give a shit about whether I'm uncomfortable or not. But, let me be clear - for once - I will answer any question you have for me. Some will be easier to answer than others, but I want you to know everything. If you want. That's what I wanted all along, but I was just too scared."
"Well, if you love someone - you care about their boundaries and how they feel," you said plainly. Jessie looked at you and you looked away nervously, clearing your throat before turning back. "And. Backtracking. You...love me?"
Jessie smiled for the first time today. It was an emotional, watery, sad smile. But it was a smile. "Yes. I really do. And it's been absolute torture the past couple of days not talking to you - I know it's all my fault though."
You frowned, thoughts almost visibly churning before you set your gaze on her again.
"Wait. But I'm not your first girlfriend. So...was it like this every time?"
Jessie's posture slumped slightly at your question; more-so, the reminder it triggered. That you were the best and she'd treated you the worst.
"No. No, it hasn't been," she admitted as she picked at the fabric of her pants. "I, um, was more open before. And, uh, I guess it backfired. And I've been pretty reserved and nervous about it since."
"Oh," you said quietly, still deep in thought. "But your teammates know, right?"
"Yeah, they all do. Hard for them not to. And they're cool with it, thank God. But otherwise I keep it quiet. It doesn't seem like it, but I'm actually pretty comfortable with that aspect of myself these days. It caused a lot of angst for me for years, but I'm happy with who I am. Relationships though...that's a different matter altogether."
"I'm sorry, Jess," you said gently, pulling a confused look out of her. Again, you shouldn't be worried about her. "That sounds really difficult. That said, do you mind telling me more?"
Jessie turned to you more fully, your knees nearly brushing now. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. You were right that I was far from an open book, but I don't want to be like that anymore. I want you to know everything, if you'd like." She shrunk into herself a bit and waved a hand aimlessly. "And just because I tell you these things, it doesn't mean that I think you'll forgive me or something. I understand that, you know, things could end. But I still want you to know."
Surprise flooded Jessie's system as you took her hand and gave it the faintest squeeze, continuing to hold it after.
"Jess. It's okay. I want to know."
She mustered up a tight smile for you and squeezed your hand.
She proceeded to tell you her story. Filling the gaps she'd craftily navigated during previous conversations. The embarrassment she'd felt. The otherness. The ridicule she'd experienced over the years. The rejection. The objectification. And the eventual defeat; of feeling like no one would get her or love her the way she wanted to be loved.
By the time she finished, a new set of tears had finished falling, but what she noted most of all was how you now held her hand in both of yours.
"Baby," you said softly, as you lifted her hand and kissed it tenderly. Jessie looked at you in surprise as she sniffled.
She'd expected the worst, so when you looked at her with warmth and compassion, it caught her off-guard to not see disgust or rejection.
"I'm so sorry you were made to feel like that. You didn't deserve that at all. Some people are so fucking close-minded and terrible. I'm so sorry you had to experience that," you told her.
Her shoulders hitched as she rode out the dying waves of her emotion.
"Thanks," she managed, her voice still congested and strained. "Now you know how hypocritical and truly horrible it was of me to make you feel the way those girls made me feel."
You tilted your head slightly and gave it a slow shake. "No. It's not the same. I mean, yes, I felt terrible, but you weren't trying to hurt me. And now I can understand where you were coming from."
Jessie shook her head in return. "It doesn't make it right though. So...if you let me, I'll do everything I can to try to make it up to you and try to rebuild the trust I've broken. Totally understand if that's off the table though."
"I," you started, chest rising as you took a large breath before relaxing once more, "still love you. So...no, it's not off the table. I still have to process a lot of this and reconcile some things. And, yes, reality is you hurt me, but everything makes so much more sense now. So. Thank you. For finally telling me."
Jessie nodded. "Thank you for hearing me out."
You fidgeted slightly and she watched you carefully. You felt her eyes on you and spoke hesitantly.
"We, um. Didn't exactly address my initial issue though. I mean, I understand now why you've been so closed off and flighty. But, you know, none of this necessarily means that you, um, find me attractive. Because that could still be a problem."
Jessie gave you a disbelieving look. "Of course I find you attractive. Well, okay," she slowed herself down, "I understand why you thought I didn't. But, now that you know everything else, my attraction to you is exactly why I couldn't be remotely physical with you. It was...a bit too much for me. Let's put it that way," Jessie finished as she looked away sheepishly. When she braved a look back your face was tinged pink.
"Oh. Okay. Well..., um. That's nice to know, I guess," you responded awkwardly.
"I'm sorry. That was probably too much information," Jessie mumbled. She cleared her throat before speaking more confidently. "So, no, you have nothing - at all - to worry about there. I think the bigger question now is if you would find me attractive. Now that you know that my, um, anatomy is different."
You blushed deeper and cleared your throat as well.
"Oh. I mean, you're still you. And, I'm curious-" you held up your hands quickly in defense, eyes closing as you corrected yourself, "-not like those other girls. No. I would never use you like that." You opened your eyes once again, calming yourself. "What I mean is. I'm still interested."
Jessie felt an ember of hope flickering in her chest. You were still blushing, giving her fleeting glances until you fully faced her, now serious and prim.
"You get one more chance," you told her firmly, holding up a finger. "I know a lot will be new and there'll be things to navigate, but I won't put up with you being distant and cagey again. Do not lie to me again."
Jessie nearly beamed. She straightened up eagerly and nodded her head rapidly in agreement.
"I won't," she promised before she took a second look at you. "Are you sure you want to try again?"
Your face scrunched up adorably as you shot her a look.
"Are you trying to talk me out of it?" You asked, affronted.
"No," she refuted, shaking her head adamantly. "I just want to make sure this is what you truly want. I know I dumped a lot on you just now, so...you are more than welcome to take your time to think. And I definitely don't want you to feel guilty in any way."
"I don't feel guilty," you told her. "And," you exhaled quickly, "as you were telling me about all of your experiences and how you've been treated, all I could really think throughout all of it is that I wished there was some way I or someone could go back and protect you from all of that." You picked at your nails idly. "And, I don't know, that I just wanted to hold you. And kiss you." You gave her another stern look, but it was mild at best. "You're not entirely forgiven yet. But I understand you so much better now. So, I do want to try again."
That heavy, horrible ache in her chest she'd been carrying with her the past while was replaced with a sensation of warmth and lightness.
"You're the most incredible woman I've ever met," she told you unwaveringly. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to make things up to you. I'll make sure you never have a doubt about me, or you, or us, again."
"That's a bold promise," you warned with a hint of a smirk.
Jessie smiled at you undeterred. She gently cupped the side of your face and leaned in, stopping momentarily to speak before giving you a soft, slow kiss.
"And it's one I intend to keep."
A/N: Next up…smut.
Tag requests: @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp @kathleenmikaelson
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Die with a smile - Lewis Hamilton
Part of 1K Jukebox Event
song: Die with a smile - Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars - @carmenred28 & an anon (I combined both of your requests)
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
genre: fluff (to make it up for the last one)
wordcount: +1k
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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The first time they talked about forever wasn’t some grand, sweeping declaration of eternal love.
It was a random Tuesday evening at home. Lewis had been exhausted, sprawled out on the couch, his legs stretched across Y/n’s lap as she flicked through the channels.
He was absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, but his mind was elsewhere, and she could tell.
“Alright, what’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked, giving his leg a playful nudge. “You’re scrolling aimlessly”
He looked up at her, his brow furrowing. “Just thinking…” he said, his voice quiet. “The racing, the travel... sometimes it feels like I’m chasing something I don’t even know anymore.”
Y/n didn’t say anything right away. She just watched him, waiting to see if his thinking would get anywhere.
That was one of the things he loved about her—she never rushed him. She gave him the space to work through his thoughts, knowing he’d get there in his own time.
“And?” when she finally asked, her tone was light although it held a tone of curiosity.
Lewis shrugged, glancing away for a second before meeting her gaze again. “I guess I’m just thinking about what happens after all of this. What happens when I stop? What do I want then?”
He could see the question in her eyes, even before she asked it. “And what do you want?”
There it was, the question that had been lingering in the back of his mind for a while now. He took a deep breath, his heart beating a little faster as he said it out loud for the first time. “I want... you.”
Y/n blinked, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t need grand speeches or promises—her fingers brushed against his leg, a simple touch that said, I do too.
“Well,” she said, her voice teasing but affectionate, “that’s good to know, because I’ve kinda been banking on forever with you too.”
There was the nights after tough races. When nothing had gone right.
Lewis had been frustrated, angry, and wound up tight. He’d spent the drive to the hotel from the track stewing in his thoughts, his jaw clenched as the weight of the day pressed down on him.
Y/n had been waiting for him when he got back, her eyes searching his face, reading his mood instantly.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “But you’re not allowed to take it out on yourself.”
He had looked at her, caught off guard by her words, but also relieved that she knew exactly what he needed to hear. She always knew.
He sank down onto the couch next to her, fidgeting with his phone in his hands to try and control the turmoil in his head
“What if I’m losing it” he admitted, his voice raw. “What if I’m not good enough anymore.”
Y/n didn’t try to fix it, didn’t try to tell him he was wrong. Instead, she reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his.
“You’re allowed to have bad days, bad seasons even” she said softly. “It doesn’t make you any less incredible. But you need to give yourself a break, Lew. You’re still a champion, and one bad race doesn’t change that.”
She saw him, every flawed and imperfect part, and she loved him anyway.
There was the small things, the little moments that made up their everyday life together.
Like the way she’d always let him pick what they were watching during dinner, even though he knew she didn’t care about half the stuff he was into.
He had noticed it one night, as they sat on the couch with takeout containers in their laps, a random documentary on space missions playing on the screen.
“You know, we don’t always have to watch what I want” he said, glancing over at her.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful smirk. “Oh, so you do get bored of these documentaries too?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “No, I’m just saying, you don’t have to sit through this if you don’t want to.”
She leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before settling back against the couch. “I don’t mind,” she said simply. “Besides, watching you get all excited about it makes it worth it.”
It was such a small thing, something most people wouldn’t even think twice about. But She wasn’t just with him for the big moments—the wins, the parties, the glamorous lifestyle.
She was there for the quiet nights on the couch, for the moments when it was just them, being themselves.
And there were the harder times, the moments when life tried to pull them apart.
Like when he had been away for a few weeks, consumed by the demands of racing, and she had been dealing with her own stresses back home.
They had fought—really fought—for the first time in a while. He had been short with her on the phone, and she had snapped back, both of them too exhausted to think straight.
He remembered calling her later that night, after everything had calmed down. His heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her to pick up, unsure of what to say, unsure if she’d even want to talk to him.
But she had answered, her voice soft and tired. “Hey.”
Lewis exhaled, relief washing over him at the sound of her voice. “I’m sorry” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I was being an ass, and I hate that we’re fighting. I hate that I’m not there with you.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, he thought he’d messed it all up. But then she spoke, her voice quiet but steady.
“I hate it too,” she admitted. “But I know you’re doing what you love, and I love you for that. I just... I need to know that when all of this is done, you’ll still come back to me.”
Her words hit him harder than he expected. And that’s when he knew—she wasn’t just his safe place. He was hers too.
And of course, there was the night he was sure.
The night he knew without a doubt that he couldn’t imagine a life without her.
They had been lying in bed, the city lights filtering in through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. Y/n was curled up against him, her head resting on his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.
They weren’t talking—just lying there in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.
After a long stretch of silence, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think we’ll always be like this?”
Lewis looked down at her, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”
She shifted slightly, her gaze still focused on the rise and fall of his chest. “I mean... us. Do you think we’ll always be this close? This... in love?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he said softly, his fingers brushing through her hair. “I do.”
She looked up at him then, her eyes searching his face as if she were looking for something. And whatever it was, she found it, because she smiled—a soft, almost wistful smile.
“Good,” she whispered, settling back against him. “Because I don’t ever want to be without you.”
And now, as Lewis sat in the plush chair, staring down at the array of engagement rings designs laid out before him on the velvet tray, all those moments flashed through his mind.
And he realized he wasn’t overwhelmed by the choices; he was overwhelmed by the gravity of what that ring would symbolize.
"Mr. Hamilton," the designer said from across the table, his voice calm, professional. "You mentioned wanting something unique. Something that reflects your relationship with Y/n. I can help you with that, but how would you describe your love, as in one sentence?"
He looked down at the designs again, his mind filled with the memories of their time together— every laugh, every argument, every quiet moment that build on the decision he’d known for so long.
A delicate twisted band with intertwined diamonds caught his eye, reminding him of the nights she would trace lazy patterns on his skin, their fingers intertwining.
And when he finally looked up, meeting the designer’s gaze, he smiled. “Our love is... my greatest victory.”
And she was his forever.
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Allergy reaction with the IC
The House of Wind was alive with the warm, familiar sounds of the inner circle—laughter, conversation, the clinking of silverware. You sat next to Azriel, his presence beside you a comforting anchor, though his shadows whispered around the room, as they often did, staying alert for any threats.
Dinner was a casual affair tonight, with everyone relaxed after a long day. Rhys was at the head of the table, Amren and Mor teasing each other across from you, Cassian boasting about some sparring victory over Feyre, who only rolled her eyes and smirked. Everything felt light, like nothing in the world could go wrong.
You took a bite of the food in front of you, the rich flavor of spices and herbs filling your mouth. But then, as you swallowed, a faint, tingling sensation started in your throat. You blinked, trying to brush it off as nothing at first, but then the tingling turned into something more—a burning.
It hit you like a punch to the chest. Your breath quickened, your throat tightening as panic began to rise in your chest. Bell pepper. You knew that taste. And you were allergic.
Azriel, ever in tune with you, noticed immediately. His hand that had been resting casually on your leg beneath the table stiffened, his shadows stilling as he glanced over at you. “Are you alright?” His voice was soft, but there was an edge of concern to it.
You tried to respond, but your throat constricted further, making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. Your chest began to tighten, and you could feel your skin flushing, a telltale sign of the allergic reaction you’d experienced before.
“Y/N?” His voice was sharper now, his shadows curling protectively around you, tightening like a warning.
You gasped, struggling to catch your breath as your vision began to blur. The room fell silent in an instant—everyone’s attention snapped toward you.
“What’s happening?” Feyre asked, her voice alarmed, and Rhys was already halfway out of his chair, his face a mask of concern.
Azriel was out of his seat in an instant, his wings flaring as he scooped you into his arms. His shadows swirled around the room, the panic in his eyes barely contained as he looked at you. “Allergic reaction,” he growled, his voice low and urgent. “Bell pepper.”
“Shit,” Cassian cursed, pushing his chair back roughly as Mor and Amren both stood, ready to help if needed.
“We need the healer,” Feyre said quickly, but Rhys was already moving, likely winnowing to get someone.
Azriel didn’t wait. He was already carrying you toward the door, his arms strong and steady, though you could feel the tension in his body. His heart was pounding, and you could feel his fear radiating through the bond.
He kept whispering your name, over and over, as if saying it enough times would keep you with him. You could feel his panic now, his thoughts racing, though his face remained calm. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.
By the time he reached one of the sitting rooms where the healer would meet you, your vision was swimming, your throat closing tighter. Azriel held you close, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “Stay with me, Y/N. Please, stay with me.”
His voice cracked, just once, and it broke something inside of you. You hated seeing him like this—Azriel, who was always so calm, so composed, now barely holding it together as his shadows lashed wildly around him.
“I’m here,” you rasped, managing to get the words out despite the pain, though they came out weaker than you intended.
“I’ve got you, love,” he murmured, his voice breaking again, though he tried to hide it. “I’ve got you.”
The healer arrived not long after, and in a blur of movement and magic, the tightness in your throat began to ease, your breath slowly coming back. Azriel didn’t let go of you the entire time, his arms wrapped protectively around you as the healer worked. You could feel his fear through the bond, his silent prayers that you would be okay.
When it was finally over, and the healer assured him you would be fine, Azriel’s grip on you didn’t loosen. He held you in his lap, his arms wrapped around you as if he couldn’t bear to let go.
The others trickled in quietly, relief evident in their faces, but they gave you both space. Feyre sent you a soft, comforting smile, and Rhys squeezed Azriel’s shoulder in silent support before retreating with the others, leaving you and Azriel alone.
You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. His hand gently stroked your back, but his grip remained firm, like he needed to remind himself that you were still there.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice still a little hoarse.
His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Don’t you dare apologize,” he said, his voice low but fierce. “I should’ve noticed sooner. I should’ve protected you.”
You shook your head, lifting your gaze to meet his. His hazel eyes were dark, swirling with emotion, but there was a tenderness there too, a love so deep it made your heart ache. “Az, it’s not your fault.”
He exhaled, his breath shaky as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I was so scared,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t— I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t,” you whispered back, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the stubble on his jaw. “I’m right here.”
For a long moment, he just held you, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath steadying as he grounded himself in your presence. His shadows curled around the two of you, their usual restlessness now a gentle, protective cocoon.
“I love you,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of emotion.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, feeling the bond between you hum with warmth and affection.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to reassure himself that you were really okay. “I’m never letting you eat anything without checking it first,” he muttered, the possessiveness in his tone softened by the love behind it.
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth return to your chest. “Deal,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest again, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into a sense of peace.
Safe in Azriel’s arms, you knew that no matter what happened, he would always be there to protect you, fiercely and without hesitation. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
#azriel shadowsinger#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#acotar#acotar reader imagine#acotar fanfiction#azriel x female!reader#azriel x oc#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#Spotify
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PLAYING DANGEROUS
jude bellingham x gf!reader
warnings: tension, tension, tension... Maybe (a bit) toxic.
summary: After weeks of fighting over a campaign Jude worked on that sparked jealousy in you, your frustration grows as he dismisses your feelings. Fed up with being ignored, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. As expected, your boyfriend sees red—his control slipping as the night unfolds, and the tension between you two reaches its boiling point. But, of course, you are having so much fun.
The car ride was thick with an uncomfortable silence. Jude gripped the wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed ahead. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, each sigh and subtle shift a quiet reminder of the tension simmering between you two. After all the back-and-forth arguments you’d had this week, you were both tired of hashing it out—but the hurt and resentment lingered.
You looked out the window, trying to lose yourself in the nightscape rushing by. The bright lights of the city blurred, but your mind was fixed on one image: that campaign photo. The one that had sparked this entire mess. Jude and a stunning model in a luxury campaign, his arm casually slung over her waist, their smiles too bright, too intimate. When you’d seen the ad, it had stung, but what has stung more was the behind the cameras videos. They had chemistry, and she was just as extroverted as him.
It hadn’t helped that when you’d brought it up to Jude, he brushed it off, rolling his eyes and calling you “dramatic” for making a big deal out of nothing. He’d practically laughed it off, leaving you feeling unheard and dismissed. That was the worst part: not just the jealousy, but the way he’d treated it as if it was meaningless.
“Can you not just sit there like I don’t exist?” Jude’s voice broke the silence, low but tight with irritation. “We’re going to this dinner. Can we just act like adults?”
You turned to him, biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying the first sharp thing that came to mind. You’d been here before, and you were too tired of the fighting to start again.
“Jude, you know why we are in this situation,” you said quietly. “I just wanted you to take me seriously and acknowledge my feelings.”
“Acknowledge?” he said, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “All I’ve done this whole week is listen to you accuse me of something I didn’t do. It’s a campaign. That’s it. Nothing more.” He resisted the urge to say, "End of discussion," and focused on the road ahead instead.
“But you didn’t make me feel like it was nothing, Jude. You made me feel like… like I’m stupid for even bringing it up. You think I don’t know that it’s part of your job?” Your voice quivered, and you hated that you sounded so emotional.
Jude’s face softened for a moment, but then he hardened his expression again, as if not wanting to give in. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I thought you knew me better than that, honestly.”
There it was—another subtle jab. The conversation felt like a seesaw, tipping between blame and defense, never quite reaching a point of understanding. You crossed your arms, pressing yourself against the passenger door, feeling miles away from him, though he was just a few feet to your left.
“I just wanted to feel like you cared that I was upset. That’s all. Not for you to laugh it off like it was something stupid.”
He clenched his jaw, as if forcing himself not to retort. His hands tightened on the wheel again. “Look, I get it now. You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I’ll do my job, you can stay mad at me, and we’ll just keep doing this every week.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and it hurt. “This is getting ridiculous...”
You two were tired of fighting, but something in you, something sharp and bruised, couldn’t let go of the last few days’ arguments. It wasn’t enough for him to be hurt. You wanted him to understand.
“Fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady but feeling anger prickle under your skin. “If it’s so ridiculous, then maybe I’ll make sure you get a taste of what that feels like. You’ll feel as ‘ridiculous’ as you’ve made me feel this week. We’ll see if it’s still a joke then.”
Jude’s head whipped toward you, a mix of shock and anger flashing across his face. “What? Are you serious right now?” His voice was tense, a low warning.
You felt a pang of guilt, but you held his gaze. “I just don’t think you’d understand it any other way.”
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. He stared back at the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The quiet between you was no longer uncomfortable but electric, charged with a bitterness that hadn’t been there before.
The car finally pulled up to the restaurant where you were supposed to meet your friends. The weight of what you’d just said hanging heavily between you. Jude cut the engine and just sat there, staring straight ahead, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. You didn´t move either, not knowing what was he going to do. After a beat, he climbed out, moving around to your door without a word. When he opened it, he didn’t look at you, just held the door and waited for you to step out.
You could see the tension in his posture, his usual warmth and confidence replaced by a coldness that made your heart ache. But you were both too proud, too angry, to say anything.
As you neared the entrance, Jude’s hand shot out, gripping your waist with a firm possessiveness. The touch wasn’t gentle or affectionate as usual; it was more of a declaration. Despite the anger simmering between you, he wasn’t about to let you carry out your threat to make him jealous. You tensed at his touch, your own anger rising as you felt him draw you in as if he could control you with a single motion.
Without thinking, you shrugged him off, shoving him away just enough to make your point. Jude halted, cursing under his breath, as he fought to keep his temper in check. The sharp click of the car lock sounded behind you as he pocketed the key, jaw clenched, but his eyes held yours for a moment. You both understood each other’s challenge, an unspoken line drawn that neither of you wanted to cross but couldn’t seem to avoid.
With your heads held high and expressions perfectly composed, you stepped into the restaurant, slipping on your masks of calm as you approached your friends. Your forced smiles and quiet greetings betrayed none of the tension between you, and you fell into the comfortable rhythm of small talk.
Back at the table, the spark of defiance inside you had turned into a full flame. Watching Jude as he laughed and charmed his way through conversations, acting as if your argument had never occurred, only fueled that fire. He didn´t get to act as if nothing happened. His face was relaxed, his posture easy—but you knew him well enough to sense the barely hidden tension in his movements, the occasional dart of his eyes toward you, checking, warning.
Fine, you thought. If he wanted to pretend everything was fine, you'd go along with it. In fact, you’d be the most composed person at the table. But where was the fun in that?
You turned your attention to the friend sitting beside you, leaning closer with an easy smile as you laughed at his stories. Your hand brushed against his as you reached for your drink, letting it linger just a second longer than usual. The warmth of his arm pressed lightly against yours as you angled your body toward him, giving him your full attention. Jude was watching, and you knew he was watching. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his mouth tighten, his easygoing demeanor slipping just a bit. His brows furrowed, and whatever his friend beside him was saying no longer seemed that interesting.
Good.
As the evening wore on, you let your laughter come a little too easily, smiling at your friend’s jokes, resting your hand briefly on his shoulder as you leaned in, your face just inches from his. Jude’s gaze was practically drilling into you, a dark intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, thrilling and defiant all at once.
You were loving it.
His hand came to rest on the table, fingers drumming an agitated beat, his knuckles white. At one point, he leaned forward to reach for his drink, and the subtle brush of his shoulder against yours sent a shiver down your spine. You caught his eyes, holding his gaze in challenge.
“You okay, baby?” you asked with a smile—the prettiest smile you could offer, eyes shining with a hint of mischief.
In response, his hand drifted under the table, finding your thigh and gripping it firmly. The heat of his palm burned through the silky fabric of your black dress, his fingers possessive, unapologetic. You swallowed, trying to focus on the conversation in front of you, but the pressure of his hand sent your pulse racing, a blend of anger and something far more dangerous surging through you.
Ignoring his grip, you shifted slightly and crossed your leg, pulling away just enough to let his hand slip, but not before his fingers tightened in a quick, heated squeeze. He didn’t let go; instead, he moved his hand further up, his fingers now grazing your upper thigh, daring you to push him away. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, you leaned even closer to your friend, laughing softly as you let your hair fall forward, just brushing Jude’s arm in the process.
You could feel the heat of Jude’s glare on your skin, the simmering anger in every tense line of his body. You risked a quick glance his way, only to find him staring back at you with a look so intense, so darkly possessive, it was almost predatory. You'd seen this look before, but only when you had pushed him too far, ignited something in him he couldn’t control. It was a fire you both knew too well, one you had stirred with every challenge, every teasing word. And now, that fire was about to consume everything.
“Come on, keep pushing me, love.” He muttered sarcastically, each word perfectly pronounced, making sure you heard him loud and clear.
He lifted his glass, fingers curling possessively around the stem, and took a slow, deliberate sip, never once breaking his intense eye contact. As he set it down, his gaze trailed down to your lips, full and inviting, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then, his eyes moved lower, lingering on the soft curve of your breasts, which you had purposefully exposed just enough to rile him up when he wasn’t looking. His stare lingered there, hungry, possessive, making your stomach tighten with a mix of anticipation and anger.
No. No. He didn't get to be in control. This time, you were the one leading. Why did he manage to make you so nervous with just a few touches and his confident smirk? It wasn't fair.
His hand drifted higher on your thigh, and you fought to keep your breath steady. The weight of his touch sent a rush of heat through you, but you refused to look his way, keeping your attention on the friend beside you. Due to all the bickering and pointless arguments, it had been far too long since you’d been close to each other. Now, his touch sent a butterflies to your stomach, its effect magnified—three times more intense than before. Jude’s fingers tensed, his grip growing firmer, sending a clear message, a silent warning. But you leaned in again, touching your friend as you laughed, your fingers trailing along his, knowing exactly how it looked.
Jude’s jaw clenched, his leg brushing firmly against yours under the table, his knee pressing against you with an undeniable possessiveness. His hand squeezed your thigh, almost painfully, and you knew he was at his limit.
So, you laughed again, but this time harder at your friend’s joke.
“Something funny?” Jude muttered in a low voice, his words quiet enough that only you could hear, laced with irritation and a hint of warning.
You turned to him, your expression innocent, even sweet. “He’s just hilarious,” you said with a slight, shy and cute smile, raising your glass and meeting his eyes in a silent challenge.
His gaze darkened further, his fingers moving in a slow, heated drag along the inside of your thigh, and for a brief second, you fought to keep your composure, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to you. His touch was a slow burn, each inch of contact sending a shiver through you that you tried to ignore.
Jude’s hand dropped back to the table, and for a moment, you thought he might finally let it go. But when you laughed again and casually complimented your friend with a teasing remark—something along the lines of, “You always look so good, I do not understand why are you still single,”— Jude’s expression darkened, his breath hitching slightly. He choked on his drink, fingers gripping the glass so tightly you half-expected it to shatter. You could practically feel the heat radiating from him, his control slipping just a little more with every word.
You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh. He set his glass down hard, his voice a rough whisper. “May I remind you that you are not the one who’s single?” he asked, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.
You raised a brow, unfazed, and turned back to your friend. “Am I pushing it?” you murmured, more to yourself than to him, a sly smile playing on your lips. But just as you were about to rest your hand on your friend’s arm for the fifteenth time that night, you felt Jude’s hand slip over yours—this time grasping your wrist, his fingers rough and insistent, stopping you before you could touch another man.
“Do not, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice like steel, laced with something electric that sent a thrill up your spine.
Without a word, you twisted your hand free and crossed your legs again, your knee brushing his leg as you did. His fingers found your wrist again, pulling you closer this time, his lips near your ear as he muttered, “You think this is a game?”
The heat of his breath against your skin made your heart race, and you felt your pulse quicken as he held your gaze, daring you to keep this up. His fingers lingered on your wrist, and for a second, you wondered if he might actually kiss you right there, just to make his point, in front of everyone, as if he didn’t care who was watching.
God you wanted that. Like, a lot.
At last, as the evening wound down and you both stood to say goodbye, Jude didn’t let you slip away. His hand slid possessively around your waist, holding you close as you say goodbye to the group, his grip firm, almost punishing. Once outside, he pulled you aside, finally away from the prying eyes of your friends.
Without a word, Jude pushed you gently against the side of the car, his eyes blazing with frustration, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite name. He stepped in close, his hands framing your waist, pressing you against the cool metal. His breath brushed against your neck, his voice a low, dangerous murmur.
“You think this was funny?” he asked, his fingers pressing into your hips, his gaze intense, unyielding.
You lifted your chin, holding his stare. “No,” you whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I thought it was fair.”
Jude’s eyes darkened, and his grip tightened, his hands possessive, nearly desperate, as he pulled you even closer. The air between you was charged, tense, and thick with unspoken words. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against you, the warmth of his hands sending shivers through you.
“You’re being…,” you started, trying to keep a teasing smile in check, though your amusement slipped through. His anger was palpable; he glared at you with narrowed eyes, locking onto you with an intensity that was thrilling, even a little dangerous.
“Mmm, what was it?” you asked, pretending to struggle to remember the exact word that had lit the fuse in this absurd, yet undeniably thrilling standoff. You paused for effect, watching the way his jaw tightened. “Oh, right—dramatic.”
You knew that would push him right over the edge, and sure enough, he leaned in, his expression hardening as his gaze burned right into yours. You could almost feel the warmth of his breath, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you, as if he were drawing you into his orbit. He hadn’t even said a word yet, but somehow, he had you on edge, just as he always did, effortlessly.
“But you know,” you added with a smirk, leaning up on tiptoe to press a playful kiss on his heated cheek, “I think it suits you.”
Then, with all the nonchalance you could muster, you turned on your heel, heading for the passenger seat as though nothing had happened. For a moment, he didn’t move; you could practically feel his stare following you. But then, before you could even open the door, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, right back into that same charged position, his grip firm but unmistakably possessive. And despite yourself, you couldn’t help but let a thrill run down your spine.
“You have no idea what you just started,” he murmured, his voice thick with a dangerous promise, his lips hovering just inches from yours.
And as you looked up at him, feeling the heat, the thrill, and the tension swirl between you, you realized you didn’t regret a single thing.
Jude’s smirk deepened as he held you there, his grip possessive and firm, his gaze dark with intent. You could feel every inch of space crackling with tension, every breath laced with challenge and defiance. He wasn't letting you go, not after what you'd just put him through. And part of you didn't want him to.
“You think this is a joke,” he muttered smirking, his voice low and edged with a dangerous sort of amusement. His fingers traced along your arm, each touch purposeful, as if to prove just how much control he still held. You raised your chin, meeting his gaze with equal defiance, a small smile on your lips.
“I think it is a taste of your own medicine,” you replied, your voice soft but unyielding. He leaned in, his lips so close they brushed against yours as he spoke, sending a shiver straight through you. He couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.
“You’re going to regret this,” he murmured, his words a promise as his thumb skimmed along your jaw, tipping your face up to meet his.
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham imagines#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham x you#jude victor willliam bellingham#hey jude#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham comfort#jb5#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham smut#rmcf#jude victor william bellingham#bellingham#judeswifey#bellingham x reader#jb5 x reader#real madrid
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— HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (LHS - 이희승)
SYNOPSIS ! an advice writer, you, starts on a bold new project for an article aiming to explain how to drive a man away in just 10 days. your editor is supports, so you set out to find a suitable man for her experiment. meanwhile, executive heeseung is equally confident in his ability to make any woman fall in love with him within 10 days. when you and heeseung cross paths, things slightly go off plan.
THE CAST heeseung x writer! fem reader
GENRE s2l, fluff, comedy, romance
WORD COUNT 5k+
WARNINGS parties, kissing, small grammar errors, yn kind of playing with heeseung at first, swearing, angst, crying
DANi NOTEZ hii this is for my liz's new event!!! this i based the rom com, how to lose a guy in 10 days. i kind of changed up scenes but the main idea and plot is based on the iconic 2000s movie. i've been writing this for abt 2-3 days? i thought it was good enough for liz' event so here i am. anyways i hope u enjoy it ><
BEING A WRITER HAS BEEN YOUR NUMBER ONE GOAL EVER SINCE HIGH SCHOOL. Now, at age 23, you were finally standing at the gates of the biggest magazine company ever. The sight alone sent chills down your spine, filling you with exhilaration.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The bustling activity, the hum of the printer, and the aroma of bitter coffee greeted you. You made your way to the elevator and anxiously pressed the button for the 17th floor.
Upon arrival, you awkwardly walked into the office. Your heart was pounding, and your knees were slightly shaking. You approached the manager's office and opened the door, finding yourself sitting in front of your section's main manager.
"YN LN?" the woman asked.
"Yes, ma'am," you replied stiffly, nerves evident in your voice.
"Welcome to our magazine company," she greeted, shaking your sweaty hand.
"Thank you," you responded with your usual sweet smile.
"Well, why don't you get to work?" she laughed. Your eyes widened, and you quickly stammered an apology, rushing to find your new desk and start brainstorming ideas.
For nearly two hours, you gazed out the window, feeling empty. No ideas were coming to you. It always seemed that the best ideas came at the worst times, and now, when you needed them most, your mind was blank.
"YN, just think…" you whispered to yourself, running your fingers through your hair. You glanced around the office, hoping for inspiration. Your eyes settled on a young man and woman engaged in a flirtatious conversation. Watching them smile and laugh together made you wonder if they were a couple or just interested in each other. (happy couples really did give you an ick.)
Then, it happened. The perfect idea. An idea that could possibly get you promoted and shake the whole world.
Quickly scribbling on your paper, the title snapped into your mind: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."
YOU MIGHT BE WONDERING, how do you even lose a guy in 10 days? Easy—just find a guy and drive him away by doing stereotypical “girl things.” Sounds like a piece of cake, right?
“YN, that is one of the BEST ideas I’ve ever heard!” your editor, Yeseo, exclaims.
“Really?” you ask, eagerly smiling.
“It’s perfect! It would catch everyone’s attention!” Yeseo explains, her eyes lighting up as she imagines the situation.
“So, how are you going to write this?” Yeseo raises an eyebrow.
“I’ll try it out myself and document my experiences. That way, it’s more authentic,” you shrug.
“That sounds great. Just journal your experiences each day,” Yeseo nods, agreeing with your plan. “I’m so excited to see the final product, YN. Email me once you’re finished, and we’ll get it published within weeks.”
You give her a quick smile before leaving her office, ready to start your new adventure.
PARTIES. USUALLY ONE OF THE THINGS YOU ABSOLUTELY HATED. The noise of couples kissing, people screaming, and music blasting through the speakers was just not your thing. The way sweaty bodies brush against each other as they chug alcohol. Parties are truly the thing you hate the most.
“So you’re telling me your new article for the magazine is about how to get a boy to dump you in 10 days?” Karina raised her eyebrow.
“In other words, yes,” you smiled. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“Possibly it not working,” Giselle interjected.
“Well, it will. I’ve planned the whole thing,” you grinned with a hint of pride. “My editor was impressed. I’m sure it’ll work.”
“If you say so,” Karina laughed at your confidence.
“So basically, YN will get a boyfriend before me?” Ningning asked, shocked.
“Well, he’s not gonna be my boyfriend. He’s more like a test,” you replied uncertainty. As you continued to explain your plan, you felt a gaze fixed on you from across the room.
A FEW MINUTES BEFORE
“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend,” Jake joked.
“I can,” Heeseung rolled his eyes.
“Wanna bet on it, then?” Jake's eyes glinted with playfulness.
“Deal,” Heeseung confirmed.
“If you get that girl over there as your girlfriend, then I’ll give you a thousand dollars.” Jake smirked, pointing at you across the room.
“Her?” Heeseung raised his eyebrow as he checked you out. You were pretty to his eyes, though he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to approach you.
“Yup, her,” Jake grinned.
“Deal, I’ll have her in my arms within a day,” Heeseung winked before walking over to ask for your number.
NOW
“No way my plan will fail–” your voice stopped as Heeseung approached, tapping your shoulder lightly.
“Hi,” he greeted you with a welcoming smile.
“Uh, hi?” you replied, confused.
“You’re kind of cute. Can I get your number?” Heeseung asked, the words not quite rolling off his tongue as he had never done this before.
Your cheeks burned slightly as you stared. “Sure?” He was quite cute, with his sweet smile and perfectly styled hair. You gave him your number, and he mentioned he would text you later before walking off.
“YN, you know what that means?” Giselle raised her eyebrow.
“Huh?” you looked confused.
“You can use him as your test,” Winter recalled. Your eyes then widened. Perfect! He would be the perfect subject for your new article. Now, how were you going to make him yours?
YOU SIT ON YOUR BED, staring at your phone, debating whether to text Heeseung first. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling inside you. Finally, you take a deep breath and type out a message.
YN: Hi, it’s YN. We met at the party earlier, you asked for my number. :)
You hit send and immediately feel a rush of anxiety. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he thinks you’re weird? You try to distract yourself by scrolling through social media, but the minutes feel like hours. Suddenly, your phone buzzes.
Heeseung: Hey, of course I remember. How's your night going?
YN: It’s going good, just relaxing now. How about you?
Heeseung: Same here. Just got home. That party was a bit too much for me, tbh
You smile, feeling a little more at ease.
YN: Agreed, not rlly a party person lmao
Heeseung: Really? Me neither. I actually prefer a quiet night with some good music.
YN: Same, what kind of music do you like?
Heeseung: I listen to a lot like R&B and indie ig
YN: oh rlly? Same w me
Heeseung: oh that’s cool
Heeseung: also wanna meet up one day?
YN: That would be amazing. I’m totally up for it.
Heeseung: Cool, it’s a date then. :)
You can’t help but smile at his message, feeling a flutter of excitement.
YN: Sounds like a plan.
Heeseung: It’s getting late. I should probably get some sleep. But I’m glad we got to talk tonight.
YN: Me too. Sleep well, Heeseung. Talk to you tomorrow?
Heeseung: Definitely. Goodnight, YN. :)
You set your phone down, a smile still on your face. This might just be the start of something interesting.
YOU TAKE A DEEP BREATH, smoothing out your outfit one last time before stepping into the restaurant. Heeseung is already there, waiting at a table near the window. He spots you and waves, a warm smile spreading across his face. You give a small smile back.
“Hi,” you greet him as you sit down.
“Hey,” he replies, “You look great.”
“Thanks, you too.”
The waiter comes over to take your orders, and there’s a moment of awkward silence as you both look at the menus.
“So, uh, do you come here often?” Heeseung asks, attempting to break the ice.
“Actually, it’s my first time,” you admit.
“I see,” Heeseung awkwardly laughs.
AFTER DINNER, you both step outside into the cool evening air, feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence.
“That was really nice,” Heeseung says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, it was,” you agree, feeling a sense of relief that the awkwardness from earlier has faded.
You walk side by side down the quiet street, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.
“Do you live far from here?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence.
“Not too far. Just a few blocks away,” you reply, glancing at him.
“Oh I see,” he says, smiling.
As you continued walking, the two of you began to chatter off. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you find yourself laughing at his jokes and sharing your own stories.
“Did you see the sunset earlier?” Heeseung asks, pointing to the sky, which is now painted with shades of orange and pink.
“Yeah, it was beautiful,” you say, smiling at the sight.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Heeseung says, looking at you with a soft smile.
“Me too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.
As you reach your street, you both come to a stop.
“Well, I guess this is where we part ways,” Heeseung says, looking a little reluctant to leave.
“Yeah,” you say, feeling a twinge of disappointment.
“Thanks for tonight, YN. I had a great time,” he says, stepping closer to you, “Maybe another time we can hang out again.”
“Thank you too, Heeseung. That sounds great,” you reply, feeling a rush of happiness.
YOU DECIDE IT'S TIME TO PUT YOUR PLAN INTO ACTION. You’ve thought through every detail, determined to see if your article concept works in real life. Step one: find an ugly dog and some hideous clothes. You’ve got the perfect ideas in mind.
You meet Heeseung outside his apartment, holding a small, scruffy dog with a face only its owner could love. You flash him a bright smile as he opens the door.
“Surprise!” you exclaim. “I got us a dog!”
Heeseung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the dog. “Uh, wow, YN. That’s…unexpected.”
“Isn’t he adorable?” you gush, ignoring the bewilderment on Heeseung’s face. “I named him Snuggles.”
“Snuggles, huh?” Heeseung says, trying to muster enthusiasm. “Yeah, he’s…something.”
You place Snuggles in Heeseung’s arms, watching as the dog licks his face with an enthusiastic, slobbery tongue. Heeseung grimaces slightly but manages a strained smile.
“Let’s take him for a walk,” you suggest brightly, grabbing a garishly colored leash from your bag.
Later that evening, you bring out the next part of your plan: an outfit so hideous that it should be impossible for Heeseung to bear. You hand him a neon green tracksuit with orange polka dots and a pair of mismatched shoes.
“I thought we could match!” you say, revealing your identical outfit. “Isn’t it fun?”
Heeseung looks at the clothes, then back at you, clearly unsure how to respond. “Wow, YN. This is…unique.”
“You don’t like it?” you ask, pouting slightly.
“No, no, it’s great,” he says quickly. “I’ll just, uh, go change.”
When he returns, you both look like you’ve stepped out of a bad 80s workout video. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity, but Heeseung seems to be struggling to keep a straight face.
“Let’s go grab dinner,” you say, linking your arm with his. “I made reservations at that fancy restaurant downtown.”
At the restaurant, the two of you turn heads as you walk in, dressed in your eye-searing outfits. The hostess tries to maintain her professionalism as she leads you to your table, but you can see the corners of her mouth twitching.
Throughout dinner, you do your best to be as irritating as possible. You chew with your mouth open, talk loudly, and insist on ordering the strangest items on the menu.
“Are you sure you want the pizza?” Heeseung asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.
“Absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “And I think you should try it too!”
Heeseung hesitates but eventually nods. “Sure, why not?”
Here you were, sitting on your bed as you write your story. Typing away and zoning out, it had to be working right? He obviously would be over you by next week. All you needed was one more shove to drive him away soon as possible. Just 5 more days..
YOU PUSH YOUR CART THROUGH the aisles of the grocery store, scanning the shelves for the items on your list. As you reach for a box of cereal, you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“YN?”
You turn to see Heeseung approaching, a smile lighting up his face. “Oh, hi Heeseung,” you say with a smile.
“Nice to see you here,” he says, falling into step beside you.
“Yeah, I just needed to grab a few things,” you reply, feeling a bit flustered by his presence.
Heeseung nods, and for a moment, there’s an awkward silence as you both continue browsing. Suddenly, you realize you can’t reach the item you need on the top shelf.
“Um, Heeseung, do you think you could help me with something?” you ask, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Of course, what do you need?” he replies, stepping closer.
“I just need to grab that box up there,” you say, pointing to the top shelf.
“Sure thing,” Heeseung says, reaching up to grab the box.
But as he stretches, you accidentally bump into him, causing him to lose his balance. In a split second, you reach out to steady him, but instead, you end up stumbling backward, crashing to the ground on top of him. Your face merely inches from each other.
“I’m sorry about that!” you exclaim, your face burning with embarrassment.
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he says, his cheeks also flushed as he helps you up.
“Um, we should probably get up,” you say, feeling flustered.
“Yeah, definitely,” Heeseung agrees, scrambling to his feet.
You both straighten your clothes and try to regain your composure, but the awkwardness lingers in the air.
“Well, um, thanks for trying to help,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Anytime,” Heeseung replies with a sheepish smile. You exchange a quick awkward glance before awkwardly walking back to do your own things.
YOU AND HEESEUNG STEP INTO THE DIMLY LIT MOVIE THEATER, the smell of popcorn filling the air. You’ve been looking forward to this night out, hoping it will help end your plan to drive him away. As you settle into your seats, the lights dim, and the movie begins.
The film is a romantic comedy, and as the story unfolds, you find yourself getting lost in the plot. But when the characters share a kiss on screen, you feel a sudden tension between you and Heeseung.
You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and you can see that he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. You both look away awkwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment.
As the movie progresses, the tension between you only grows. You can feel Heeseung’s eyes on you, and you struggle to focus on the screen, your heart pounding in your chest.
Suddenly, as another kiss happens, Heeseung leans in closer to you. You freeze, unsure of what to do. Is he going to kiss you? But then, almost as if on cue, Heeseung leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. His breath mingles with yours, his warm exhales tickling your skin as he leans in, his lips drawing closer to yours. You can feel the gentle brush of his breath against your mouth, sending shivers down your spine.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. And then, in a heartbeat, he closes the gap between you, his lips pressing softly against yours. It’s a gentle kiss, but hesitant at first, but soon it deepens. You can’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.
You melt into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours. When you finally pull away, your heart is racing, and your mind is buzzing with emotions. You meet Heeseung’s gaze, and you can see the same uncertainty reflected in his eyes.
“Wow,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.
“Yeah,” you murmur, at a loss for words.
As the movie comes to an end, you both sit in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. But despite the awkwardness, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.
As you leave the theater, you can’t help but replay the kiss in your mind, feeling a sense of warmth and longing that you can’t ignore. And as you walk hand in hand with Heeseung, you realize with a start that maybe, just maybe, you’re falling in love.
AS YOU LIE IN BED THAT NIGHT, the events of the evening replay in your mind. The gentle touch of Heeseung's lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace—it all stuck in your head.
You stare up at the ceiling, think to yourself. Love? It's a word you're not ready to utter, a feeling too intense to comprehend. You try to push the thought aside.
You roll onto your side, pulling the covers tighter around you. You couldn’t be in love? All that effort you put in to get rid of him. It was your 8th day, just two more days. You couldn’t do it anymore. As you drift off to sleep, the question echoes in your mind. Are you falling in love with Heeseung?
THE REALIZATION HITS YOU like a ton of bricks, leaving you feeling breathless. Could it be true? Are you actually falling in love with Heeseung?
The thought consumes you as you go about your day. By the time evening arrives, you can't shake the feeling that you needed to end it.
Summoning every ounce of courage, you pick up your phone and dial your editor's number. When she answers, you get yourself together for the conversation ahead.
"Hey, it's me," you begin, "I need to talk to you about the article."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear the curiosity in her voice as she responds. "Sure, what's up?"
"I… I can't write it," you admit, the words feeling like a confession. "I just don't feel right about it anymore."
There's a moment of silence before your editor speaks again, her tone firm."No, you're writing it," she says, leaving no room for argument.
"But—" you start to protest, but she cuts you off before you can continue.
"No buts," she insists. "We've already agreed on the topic, and you're the best person for the job. I expect to see the first draft on my desk by the end of the week."
You sigh, feeling defeated. It's clear that your editor isn't going to budge on this issue, and you know that arguing further would be a waste.
"Okay," you say reluctantly, resigning yourself to the task at hand. "I'll get it done."
AS YOU SIT ON YOUR COUCH, trying to make sense of everything that's happened, until you hear Heeseung pick up a call.
“ Heeseung!" Jake's voice crackles through the phone, filled with excitement. "So, have you sealed the deal yet? Win YN over?"
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of your name and you instinctively lean in closer, eager to hear his response. But as you listen, the color drains from your face, and a cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach.
"The bet that I could get YN in 10 days?," Heeseung's voice comes through the phone, his words cutting through the air, "I thought I could, but…"
Your heart shatters. Your knees started to shake. How could you have been so blind? How could you have let yourself fall for someone who was playing a game with your feelings?
Before you can hear the rest of his sentence, you leave the room silently. "I thought I could, but…" The words replay in your head.As the reality sinks in, you realize that you may have just broken your own heart, listening in on a conversation that was never meant for your ears. He played with you. He was using you. You feel like a fool, blindsided by the truth that's been staring you in the face all along.
You walk yourself to the nearest taxi before coming back to your empty apartment. You lie on bed, your palms on your eyes, sobbing quietly. Why should you care? I mean he was just an experiment — right?
THE MORNING SUNLIGHT FILTERS through the curtains as you sit on your bed, thoughts rushing through your mind. The wounds from last night were still raw, as you feel tired and sick. You kew what you have to do. You began to type your last paragraph of the article before submitting it to your editor.
With the article sent, you feel a mix of anxiety and relief. You know the revised piece is honest and raw, reflecting your own experience. But there’s one more thing you need to do to truly move forward.
To: Editor Yeseo
Subject: Resignation Letter
Dear Yeseo,
I am writing to formally resign from my position as a writer, effective immediately. I appreciate the opportunities I have had here and the support from the team, but I must prioritize my well-being at this time.
Thank you for your understanding.
Sincerely, YN
You hit send, feeling an overwhelming amount of pain. Being a writer had been your dream job, but now, it feels like a chapter you need to close. As you sit in your now-quiet apartment, you feel a pang of sadness. The memories of the past few weeks with Heeseung linger, but you push them aside.
You start with your closet, pulling out clothes and sorting them into piles: keep, donate, and toss. You take down the photos and posters from the walls, each one a reminder of the life you’re leaving behind.
Next, you move to the kitchen, packing up dishes, utensils, and small appliances. You wrap everything carefully, methodically, as if each item represents a piece of your heart that you’re trying to protect.
Your phone buzzes with messages from Heeseung, but you ignore them. Making them be left on delivered. You move to the living room, packing up books, DVDs, and mementos. You’re not just packing up your belongings; you’re packing up your old life, preparing to move on and start new.
IN HIS DIMLY LIT APARTMENT, Heeseung sits on the edge of his bed, the glow of his laptop screen casting shadows across his face. His heart pounds in his chest as he opens the email attachment—a document titled "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—And Fall in Love in the Process" by [Your Name].
As the page loads, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to read. The cursor hovers over the first paragraph, and with a trembling hand, he begins to scroll down.
Heeseung sits at his desk, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads the article that has just landed in his inbox. With each word, his emotions spiral into a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.
"When I set out to write this article..."
He reads the opening sentence, his brow furrowing in confusion. What article is this? And why does it sound so familiar?
As he continues to read, the pieces start to fall into place. The description of the article, the unexpected turn of events—it's all too familiar, too painful to ignore.
"I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject..."
Heeseung's breath catches in his throat as he realizes what he's reading. This is about him. About the bet, about the article he overheard, about everything.
He reads on, his heart pounding louder with each passing sentence:
When I set out to write this article, the plan was simple: follow a set of steps to make a guy dump me in ten days. It was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted challenge—a piece to entertain our readers. But life, as it often does, had other plans.
I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject. But as the days went by, something unexpected happened. The more I tried to push him away, the closer we became. Every awkward moment, every forced argument, every silly plan to drive him away only brought us closer together.
I found myself laughing at his jokes, looking forward to our time together, and, against all odds, feeling a connection I hadn't anticipated. What started as a challenge turned into a journey of discovery—not just about him, but about myself.
I realized that love isn't something you can plan or control. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it, breaking down the walls you've carefully built around your heart. And sometimes, the person you're trying to lose ends up being the one you can't imagine living without.
So, dear readers, this isn't the article I set out to write. It's not about foolproof ways to make a guy dump you. Instead, it's a story about how, in the process of trying to push someone away, I found myself falling in love. It's messy, it's unexpected, and it's beautiful.
Life has a funny way of turning our plans upside down. And sometimes, the best stories are the ones we never meant to write.
He closes the magazine, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you how he feels. He can't let this opportunity slip away, can't let the chance to be with you slip through his fingers.
With a sense of determination, Heeseung rises from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to find you, to tell you how he feels, to see if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way too.
HEESEUNG'S HEART RACES AS HE RUSHES THROUGH THE STREETS, his mind consumed with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you everything.
As he rounds the corner, he sees your apartment building looming ahead. His steps quicken, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He's so close now, so close to finally telling you how he feels.
But as he reaches your building, his heart sinks at the sight before him. He sees movers loading boxes into a truck parked outside, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that you're moving away.
Heeseung's chest tightens with panic, his mind racing as he searches for a solution. He can't let you slip away, can't let this chance to be with you slip through his fingers. He rushes toward the building, his thoughts jumbled all up.
As he bursts through the door, he sees you standing in the hallway, a suitcase at your feet, tears streaming down your face. His heart breaks at the sight of your sadness, and he knows he needs to act fast.
"Y/N!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the empty hallway. You turn to face him, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him standing there.
"Heeseung?" you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "What are you doing here?"
Heeseung takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say. "I need to talk to you," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "There's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago."
He steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I was part of the bet," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it was never about winning a thousand dollars or proving anything to Jake. It was about proving something to myself—to prove that I could be the kind of guy who deserves someone like you."
Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his confession, your heart aching with a mix of sadness and hope. "Heeseung…" you whisper, reaching out to touch his hand.
But Heeseung doesn't wait for you to say anything more. With a surge of courage, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, pouring all of his love and longing into the kiss.
As Heeseung's lips meet yours in that soft, tender kiss, his hands gently find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.
You feel the heat of his body against yours, the closeness intensifying the sensation of his lips moving against yours. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as if memorizing every curve of your body.
You pull away, staring and laughing for a moment.
"I love you," you whisper softly.
"I love you more," he smiles back, quietly leaning his forehead against yours to quickly catch his lips on yours again. Maybe writing that article wasn't so bad after all.
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