#those first few hours haunt me
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Way short notice but I might stream tomorrow [Friday 17th] from like 10am-2pm EST? I wanna keep on track with my streaming schedule and I wanna do some oc lore drops, hear about yalls ocs and stuff. Just have a big outlast oc....party. I'll be drawing like always.
I think that'd be nice
#outlast trials#outlast fandom#red barrels#outlast#franco barbi#il bambino#streaming#Hopefully it'll be a good stream#better than the last#the last one still irks me a bit#because it could've been better..#those first few hours haunt me
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On this day last year, my family faced a choice no one should ever have to make: stay in their home in Gaza and risk death or flee south, clinging to the slim hope of finding safety. Spoiler alert: there was no “right” answer. In Gaza, there never is. Families like mine would run from areas labeled dangerous, only to be bombed in so-called ‘humanitarian’ zones. Because in Gaza, no place is truly safe.
Each time they evacuated, they had the same gut-wrenching, desperate conversations on repeat: “Should we stay or go? Where would we even go? Do we send the women and children first, or do we all stick together?” Imagine trying to make life-and-death decisions with bombs falling around you.
One evening, a family friend offered them shelter, hoping the madness would calm down in a few days. My brothers agreed to move everyone there the next morning. But the bombs beat them to it. Just hours after that phone call, Israeli airstrikes hit our friend’s house. Thirty-five people, including children, gone. They never got a chance to move, and instead, they grieved for the lives lost.
They ran to Khan Younis, only for tragedy to follow. In November 2023, Israeli bombs hit my cousin’s house. I lost three cousins, their wives, and their children. It was chaos. Pieces of people scattered everywhere. A small child’s body lay unrecognizable until my cousin realized it was her son, Odi. His head was almost gone, but she knew him. She knew him by the shape of his teeth, his little toes. That’s the kind of loss no mother should ever face.
Since then, my family has moved over 50 times, haunted by the same questions: Where can they go next? How can they afford to survive another evacuation? Will they even manage to set up another flimsy tent?
And speaking of tents, imagine trying to live in one with your children. Picture makeshift cesspits serving as toilets, which fill up in a few weeks, forcing them to dig another. Comfort? Safety? Those words mean nothing. How do you sleep at night when your ‘home’ is a tent and your bathroom is a hole in the ground?
Talking about my family and Gaza breaks me, yet it also brings me a strange comfort. I refuse to let their stories fade. Their memories are beacons in the darkness, bittersweet reminders of joy and sorrow.
My family needs urgent help to survive this ongoing nightmare. Please, donate if you can. Share our story with your friends and family. Help us keep fighting, keep surviving.
Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.
Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link
Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link
Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link
Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link
If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead.
Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link
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You Came, You Called || LN4
Summary: when strangers follow you from the nightclub there’s only one person you want to call.
Warnings: angst, threatening behaviour, fluff
WC: 2.4K
Lando stirred at the sound of his phone ringing on the bedside table. There were few people who could get past the ‘do not disturb’ setting that came into effect after midnight. With bleary eyes he reached for the phone and cringed at the bright light in his face but the sight of your name chased away his exhaustion.
It had been 162 days since you last spoke to him. It had been 162 days since he had ruined everything. He regretted his foolishness for every single one of those days and his stomach flipped at the thought of hearing your voice.
“Hey,” he answered, a flinch following as his voice cracked from lack of use while he slept. He quickly cleared it before trying again. “Hey.”
“Hey, baby.”
Alarm bells rang in his head and he sat up straight. Had you called the wrong man? That thought soured in his mouth.
“I’m on my way home.”
It wasn’t your unsteady voice he was focused on but the male voices that sounded far too close for his liking. “Aw, don’t call your boyfriend. We only want to talk.”
“Where are you?” Lando was already pulling on a pair of sweatpants and grabbing the first shirt he came across. “Are you okay?”
“No,” you whispered with a tremble in your tone. “I miss you.”
“Tell me where you are, sweetheart. I’m on my way.”
“Come on, gorgeous, it’s just a bit of fun,” a man called out and Lando saw red when he heard you choke back a sob. He knew the sound because he had been the reason for it before, and it had haunted him ever since. “He doesn’t have to know.”
“I’m heading towards Chocolat Boutique, please hurry.”
“I’m coming, sweetheart. I’m on my way.” Lando was already racing down to the garage and jumping in his McLaren. The engine roared loudly in the underground space before he tore out onto the street. “Keep talking to me, okay?”
The small store would have closed hours ago, but it was down the street from Jimmyz nightclub which was where you probably had been. He didn’t even know you were in town, and he didn’t have a right to know your whereabouts anymore.
“I’m scared, Lan.” The pain echoed around him as his phone connected to the car and played in surround sound.
“I know you are, but it’s going to be okay. I’m almost there, I promise.” He didn’t care about speeding tickets or running red lights. He flew through the narrow streets as he was forced to listen to the cat calls.
“I didn’t know who to call,” you admitted as you tried to walk faster but your heels hindered any escape. The three men were getting closer but they were in no hurry as they prowled both sides of the street to herd you along.
“You can always call me, love,” Lando swore, taking the last turn fast enough for the tires to squeal in protest. “And I’ll always answer.”
He found you on the footpath clutching your phone to your ear, hand cupped over the microphone as you spoke to him. Fear had widened your eyes and your normal stature cowered under the gaze of the men behind you.
Twisting the steering wheel, Lando skidded to a halt beside you and threw the door open. You had seen him angry before, when races don’t go his way, but this was beyond anger. Waves of rage rolled off him as you leapt into his arms, your trembling form finding itself molding perfectly back into his body. Two puzzle pieces slotting back together.
“I got you, sweetheart,” he soothed as he cradled the back of your head and glared over your shoulder. “You’re safe now.”
He might not have been the most imposing figure but you knew Lando was strong and regularly had boxing lessons for training. You had no doubt that if anything escalated he would use every lesson to protect you, but the cowards shrank back into the shadows of the shops.
“Let’s get you home.”
You were in such a state of shock that you didn’t see Lando wince at his mistake. You hadn’t called his apartment home for 162 days, not since you packed your bags and left. But right now you longed for that place where you had felt so safe and secure, tangled in his sheets and he curled his body around yours.
He opened the passenger door and reluctantly stepped out of your embrace to guide you into the seat. The doors locked as he started the engine and you exhaled a heavy breath of relief when the street was left behind.
Tearing your eyes away from the tinted window, you looked at Lando properly and saw his disheveled appearance. “I’m sorry for waking you.”
“I’m not.” He took his eyes off the road for a second before reaching over to take your hand. “You’re freezing.”
He couldn’t tell if you were shaking because you were cold or if it was the adrenaline leading to shock. Dropping your hand he reached behind your seat to grab a hoodie that was always left in the car. The material was soft and smelled like him as you pulled on, inhaling deeply at the familiarity of the scent.
“I miss stealing these,” you whispered as you buried your cold hands into the front pocket.
Lando chuckled at the admission. He missed seeing his hoodies on you and asking if you knew where his favourite ones were. You would lie and he would smile at how terrible the attempt was.
“You can steal that one, if you want. I have too many now that they don’t mysteriously disappear.”
The car pulled into the garage and you found the space where your car used to park now filled with a pretty Lamborghini. A new sense of sadness hit that of course everything could be upgraded and replaced. “You can take me to my hotel. I wasn’t thinking clearly, you probably have company.”
His lips turned down at the thought and he shook his head. Lando understood why you would assume that, after all it was the reason you had left. What he had thought was harmless flirting had wrought destruction on his relationship with you. He knew he should’ve deleted the messages as soon as they were received but a moment of weakness when he was away from you led him to reply.
He betrayed your trust and he had regretted it ever since.
“There isn’t anyone,” he said as he parked. “There isn’t anyone ever, just to be clear.”
You mulled over his words as you stepped out of the car and accepted his hand, trading the warmth of the pocket for his palm. You kept hearing the insinuation echo with each step in the empty garage.
“Did you go out alone tonight?”
You shook your head. “Ana felt sick so she left. I should have gone with her.”
“So why did you stay?”
You weren’t ready to admit there was a slight hope you would see him so you just shrugged. It was Saturday night in Monaco and Jimmyz was the place to be - especially for a handsome, single man like Lando. You hadn’t wanted it to be this way though.
“I stopped going there after…a couple of months ago,” he said as he unlocked his door.
“Why? You loved that place.”
“I loved going with you,” he corrected. “I got to hold you and dance, show you off to everyone. When I went back, everyone just wanted to use me.”
You could imagine the women fawning over him and the men trying to be his next best friend. Sex or money, it was all they wanted from him.
“I’m sorry, Lan.”
“Lan,” he chuckled, following the light down the hall to his bedroom. The blanket was tossed aside and his charging cord was half hanging from the wall, a testament to how quickly he had left his bed to rescue you. “No one else calls me that anymore. It’s always Lando Norris, full name, so fucking weird. It’s Lando Norris getting out of his car. Oh, look, it’s Lando Norris scratching his nose.”
You laughed at his impersonation and sat at the edge of the bed. It was such an innocent thing but it brought back a million memories made in this room and he was seeing them all too as he stood frozen.
“Are you going to stand there all night, Lando Norris?”
His eyes traced your lips that mocked him before he shook his head of the thought that entered his head. Going to his wardrobe, he grabbed a loose shirt and tossed it to you before turning his back. “That’ll be more comfortable to sleep in than your dress.”
You laughed to yourself as he turned away, despite intimately knowing every inch of your body, until you found his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. His tortured eyes dared you to tell him to look away, but they begged you all the same. Maybe you were feeling grateful for the rescue, or maybe it was just an old habit that you held his gaze as you rose to your feet and let your dress fall to the floor with his hoodie.
His eyes darkened and he groaned, but the sound woke him up from his stupor. “I’ll go sleep on the couch.”
“Wait.” You took a step towards him as he stepped towards the door. “Please stay.”
He heard the fragility in your tone and the residual fear from the evening creeping back. He knew it was a bad idea but he couldn’t find the words to voice them as he gripped the door handle.
You watched his fingers release their tight hold before he nodded. “But please put the shirt on,” he pleaded as you tested his self restraint.
It was summer and the air still held warmth despite the early hour, but you dutifully pulled it over your head and climbed into the sheets. Lando waited until you were completely covered before he walked around to his side of the bed and curled up at the edge.
You both lay in silence, back to back, watching the shadows on the wall as the minutes ticked away. Lando was like a heat seeking missile and he was fighting an internal battle to keep from rolling over and curling his body around yours. You had always loved physical contact, it was comforting to be wrapped in his arms.
You knew he was awake and uncomfortable.
He knew you were awake and uncomfortable.
A few more minutes passed and you could no longer pretend he didn’t exist, or that you didn’t want the comfort he could give. “Lan?”
“Yeah?” His response was instant and you felt the bed shift as he rolled onto his back.
“Stop being weird and just cuddle me so we can get some sleep.”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
You giggled and reached blindly for him. “I am already.”
Your hand found his arm and he shimmied across the space until it curled around your waist. His knees tucked behind yours and his breath warmed your neck as he whispered, “I’m sorry. For everything. I know you hate me, but-”
“I don’t,” you interjected, twisting your neck to look at him in the dim light. “I did, I really did. But I don’t anymore.”
“You should. I hurt you so bad. I deserve your hate.”
You swallowed down the lump in your throat and looked away as you admitted aloud what you had known for a while. “I can’t hate you, Lan, not when I still love you.”
Lando froze still behind you and you weren’t sure if he was even breathing. “You still love me?” Disbelief, wonder, hope - it was so saturated in that question.
“I thought something terrible was going to happen to me tonight so I called you in case it was the last time I could. I didn’t want ‘I hate you’ to be my last words to you.”
Lando’s gut clenched at the thought and his arms tightened around you, crushing your back to his chest. “I wish you called sooner, I would come day or night to get you.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do,” he said sadly. “Every weekend for the past five months I wonder if you are out drinking and clubbing. I know it’s not my place, and I lost all right to know where you are, but I need to know you safe, sweetheart. It kills me to think that there might be someone else looking out for you, because that was my job. It should still be my job, to protect you, because I love you too. I never stopped loving you.”
You squirmed in his arms but they were too tight to move. “Lan, I need you to let go of me,” you murmured.
“I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t give up on us.”
“Lan.”
His breath was shaky but he released his tight grip on you, despite his desire to keep you close. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said any of that.”
He started to pull away but you finally had room to move and followed. “Lando! Come back, you muppet. I just wanted to see your face without breaking my neck,” you laughed.
He paused, a little from appearing between his brows. “Let go…oh…” His eyes lit up even in the dark room and he bundled you back into his arms. “Muppet is my word.”
You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and inhaled his scent. “I stole it too, like your hoodies.”
“I was a muppet so you can have it this time.” He pulled back so he could find your eyes. “Where does this leave us?”
“You broke my trust.” You felt him deflate at the words. “But when I needed you, you came.”
“You called.”
Your chest felt light with emotion those two words brought and you combed your fingers into his dark curls. “I don’t know where this leaves us but what I do know is that I really want you to kiss me.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Now? Are you sure? It might just be the adrena-”
“Shut up and kiss me, Lan.”
He didn’t need to be told a third time.
#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n
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📃 Desk Duty 📃
Unit Chief Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Summary: After taking a bullet on a case, Spencer orders you to desk duty. After two months of pushing papers and his pushing you away for fear of hurting you, you've had enough.
Warnings: Established BDSM scenario, public sex, masturbation (female and male), mentions of sex toys, breaking and entering, multiple orgasms, squirting, shoe riding, slapping (ass, face, pussy), wet/dirty/messy sex, deep-throaring, face fucking, exhibitionism, risky sex, creampie, sloppy sex, pet play (puppy), Hard Dom Spencer, bratty sub reader, degradation (slut, whore, bitch used). Confessions of love at the end because I'm not a monster.
A/N: Hello, it's me, painfully single, back with another in a series of fics that I think will haunt my (wet) dreams for eternity. Thank you to @lightvixxen for requesting shoe riding all those moons ago, I am so glad we share in the same brand of brain rot. Enjoy~♡
Masterlist || Bingo Board
The first time you were shot, you were surprised it hurt so much. Of course, you knew it was going to hurt. You knew you'd eventually be shot.
But the graze to your arm stung like a bitch, and had you whimpering on the floor of a warehouse like a small child who'd fallen off their bike for the first time.
You'd picked yourself back up, and, luckily, the shot had avoided doing any serious damage, but you were relegated to desk duty for two months after. Just until you could prove you weren't traumatised, and there wasn't any permanent damage to your arm.
Two months of staying home while your boss gallivanted around the country, happily diving in front of bullets and jumping on bombs. Two months of staying home waiting for him to come back and rail you.
You'd been sleeping with Spencer Reid practically since he'd become the Unit Chief, and with the announcement that there were only a few more weeks left until Emily Prentiss came back from her special task force, you were really losing time alone in the office you'd been enjoying the pleasures of one another in.
Of course, there would still be motel rooms for you later, but soon he wouldn't have the keys to your room, making your secret trysts slightly riskier. You weren't sure you wanted everyone in the office to know just what it was the two of you were getting up to in your spare time.
So, with your last two months of freedom relegated to desk duty, you sulked.
Spencer was clear that he was leaving you behind so you could recuperate, but you didn't exactly expect him to go cold turkey.
You'd been apart before, having been sent on separate inmate interviews, and you'd made do with a poorly connected video call, a dildo and your hands, getting all the inspiration you needed watching him pump his cock in his fist.
But somehow, your injury had made him borderline chaste, and he refused to even touch you while you were still in - his words, not yours - recovery.
It had been a month since he'd fucked you. Hell, it had been a month since you'd even seen his cock. A month since you'd had any kind of orgasm, first because your dominant hand had been out of action, and then because you'd felt so frustrated without him, you couldn't bring yourself to do it alone.
He messaged you daily, called practically once every eight hours, and made sure you were eating and sleeping even from halfway across the country.
But he didn't make any mention of your growing frustration, even as you tried your best to tempt him into sin.
A month into purgatory, you'd started hinting at your own needs. Your teammates had taken a case in Atlanta, and you'd stuck behind a days drive away and heard absolutely nothing.
You'd called, and Luke had picked up, making his presence known before you could royally screw up and beg for something to fuck.
“H-Hi, Luke. I was just wondering how the case was going. Is there anything I can help with from the office?” You asked, stammering on the phone as you pulled your hand out from between your thighs.
“You want to help? At 11pm at night?”
“Sure do! You know me… go-getter?” You stuttered the words, not even believing them yourself, biting your lip in anxiety and hoping that Luke would just think you were going stir crazy.
“I'll hand you to Reid, he's been talking about some case files you might be able to help with.”
“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief.
You heard the phone switch hands, and then you heard movement until the line went quieter, and Spencer's voice popped into your ear.
“Y/N?”
“I miss you,” you sighed before you could say anything else, fingers sliding between your thighs before you could think to stop yourself.
“I miss you, too,” he whispered hesitantly, but you heard the smile in his voice as he answered.
“You're working so late tonight, I'd hoped…” you trailed off, feeling your skin heat as your free hands lipped into your underwear and you touched yourself for real this time.
“We think he's working under the same MO as the Night Stalker, like a copycat, so we're keeping to late hours. What's that sound?”
“Nothing,” you said, giving your lie away almost immediately with a moan.
“Are you… Y/N, are you touching yourself?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
“I told you I missed you. It's been a month since you've touched me, someone has to do it-”
“Stop it.”
His words were blunt, and there was no hint of excitement in them, no telling if he was saying this so he could play a part in your unravelling.
“What?”
“Stop touching yourself. Y/N, you are not allowed to touch yourself.”
“Not-? Spencer, what the fuck!” You exploded, sitting up from your comfortable position on the bed, set alight in indignance.
“I'm the only one that gets to touch you like that, you're not allowed to cum unless I'm there,” he ground out, and just as you heard the smile in his voice earlier, you heard the frustration and arousal now.
“Well, Spencer, if you'd have brought me along on this case instead of leaving me here, maybe you'd get a say in who gets to make me cum.”
“Y/N, you're injured, and you haven't been cleared to fly. A doctor needs to-”
“You're a doctor. Technically. You could sign off on me. You could've had me right there in your bed tonight, but no.”
He scoffed down the line, and you saw his face flash so vividly in your head that it pissed you off. He was hotter when he was angry.
“Nice try. I tried that myself once, but it doesn't work. Now go to sleep and get some rest.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he hung up. His words lit a fire in the pit of your stomach, and you threw the phone down in frustration.
He wasn't listening again, and you were sick of it, and you we're sick of pushing paper at a cubical when you should've been out in the field doing your actual job. You were sick of being celibate and at home alone, when you should've been in a dark corner somewhere letting your boss use your body, letting him pin you to the wall and work out his frustrations.
You should've had your lips wrapped around his cock, you should've had his hands buried in your cunt, slapping your ass, his teeth teasing your nipples, something.
Instead, you had your phone camera and a bed, and a personal vendetta against the word 'no' coming from Spencer Reid's mouth. If he wanted you to stop touching yourself, he'd better get his ass home and make you.
Shedding your clothes, you set up your camera and began your week long crusade.
The first video received a response in the form of a call you let go straight to voice mail as you recorded the second one.
He didn't call again after that, but you knew he watched each and every video you sent.
You knew he watched the video of you fucking yourself on a wall mounted dildo in the shower. You wondered if he let him imagine it was him, taking his cock in hand in the morning as he washed and prepared himself for the day.
You knew he watched the video of you playing with your boobs alone in the elevator at work after hours. You wondered if he was still working late when he saw that one, or if, like last time, maybe Luke had grabbed his phone first and seen it before him. .
You knew he watched the video you shot in his apartment. It wasn't that hard to get into, knowing exactly where the spare key was hidden and letting yourself in comfortably. You let yourself dress in one of his shirts and set the camera up, pushing a bullet vibe inside yourself, and turning on the camera, playing with the hem of the shirt and the sheets below until you finally flashed the camera and him the sight of your wet cunt.
You filmed a few videos there, fingering yourself, spreading yourself so he could see just how far you'd opened yourself up for him, sinking down on to progressively bigger silicone cocks and mumbling his name over and over again.
You knew he watched every video, even though you'd sent ten over the space of an evening. You knew he was likely somewhere stroking his large, hot cock, wishing he was buried deep in you, but too stubborn to let you know that now.
The day after the case ended, you knew that his return meant punishment, but you couldn't stop yourself.
An hour before the teams expected arrival time, you excused yourself to Spencer's office. The first time he'd fucked you had been in there. He'd pushed you over his lap and slapped some sense into you, spanking you until you were a drippy mess waiting for his cock to enter you sharp and fast.
You'd since sucked his cock under the desk more times than you could count, and the view from the window was more than familiar to you as you enjoyed being pushed up against it as he took you from behind, the both of you revelling in the fact that anyone could see you defiling the building together.
With half an hour to spare before he returned and ended your fun and games, you mounted the arm of his couch and began rubbing yourself against it. You rocked your hips slowly back and forth against it - as horny as you were, it was still embarrassing to be so horny you'd resulted to humping pieces of furniture to meet your needs.
You'd thought about getting drunk and finding a random dick to take home with you, but it didn't interest you half so much as fucking with Spencer Reid did. You'd never had the talk about exclusivity, but you knew just as well as he did that you were locked in. He was your boyfriend, whether he realised it or not.
And now, you simply needed his cock so badly, nothing else would do. The closest you could get was a piece of furniture he'd fucked you on before.
You slipped your panties off quickly as your timer sounded a ten minute warning, knowing his plane would be landing any second now. You'd factored in the walk from the jet to the office, praying to the gods above that he took the initiative to get ahead on paperwork instead of going straight home.
You rocked back and forth on the arm of the couch until his door opened narrowly and he let himself in, just as your clit rubbed the corner of the couch and you moaned out gloriously.
“Y/N,” he hissed as he slammed the door shut. You didn't stop even as he crossed the room and grabbed your hips, instead lunging for his lips and meeting them with your own.
Your tongue clashed with him for the first time in a lifetime, and you whimpered at how good he still felt pressed up against you. His chest was a solid shield, and your puffy nipples pushed up against it, rubbing deliciously with each grind. His hands were large, his fingers long as they clawed themselves around your hips and drew you up.
“You just can't follow orders, can you?” He asked between kisses, between breaths where you weren't sure if he'd slap you or shove his fingers down your throat. “I should fire you,” he whispered as he reluctantly pulled away.
“But Spencer,” you said, gasping jokingly as you pawed at the front of his pants. “Who would you fuck on cases then? Who would be your controversially young fuck doll?”
You meant it to be a joke, but the slap he delivered to your ass made you think twice as you clapped a hand over your mouth.
His hands roughly pulled you into him again, and you were unable to rise up enough again before he hit you again. You jilted forwards with a little moan and just gave in to the sensation, pressing your face into the pillows as your hips rose.
“You're acting like such a desperate little slut, I don't think you deserve to even lick my cock. Fuck, I don't even think you deserve to lick my shoe,” his words cut deep as you realised how angry he was, his fingers tangling in your hair he yanked you upwards.
“Wait, please - Spencer, please, I need-”
“Need what? You need to suck cock? You need to put yourself on display in a public place? Need everyone around you to know just what it is we do when we're alone?” With each question, he worked on bruising your ass cheeks harder, until he finally pushed you to the floor, and you sank down, automatically spreading your legs for him.
“Pathetic. You don't deserve this cock, baby.”
“No!” You cried out, not willing to accept that outcome at all as you panicked. “I'll do anything, please, Spencer, I'll do anything!”
You whimpered and cried out in real frustration and fear, knowing that he absolutely would kick you out if you didn't act fast. Spencer may have been fine with you taking control some days, but this obviously wasn't one of them. You sat yourself on your knees and clasped your hands together, attempting to seem half the serious devotee and half the irresistible vixen whose chest was accentuated by the movement.
“Okay. Show me just how much of a desperate slut you are,” he said, lifting his foot from the ground and nudging it between your thighs.
Reluctantly, you widened your stance, spreading apart just enough for him to notch his shoe against your clothed pussy.
“Ride my shoe, Y/N. You're such a good little boot-licker. It shouldn't be a problem, right?” As if to answer your own question for you, he bobbed his knee gently, and your clit ground into the edge of his shoelaces, causing a sharp, fast burst of pleasure to spark through you.
You still were too shocked to answer, but he smoothed your hair from your eyes as he continued to bounce his foot, and you left all of your concerns behind, slowly grinding down.
“What a dirty little slut, I didn't think you'd actually do it.”
Wrapping your arms around his leg, you pressed your hips up and down hesitantly, looking into his eyes as your mouth dropped open in a silent moan.
“That's it, good girl,” he said, letting his leg go still as you did all the work, shaking your hips back and forth on his shoe as you gave him pleading looks, unable to form words for the overwhelming shame and embarrassment.
“You look like a puppy,” he blurted out, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling it back, hard, exposing your throat to him as he watched you with curious eyes. “Like one of those puppies who gets so excited to see you, she starts humping you. So fucking horny and desperate. You wouldn't even care who was in the room with us, right now, would you? You'd just keep going until yiu came.”
You gasped as he slapped your face, tongue falling out of your mouth as he inspected his little play puppy. He smiled, as if happy with your reactions, and leant back on the sofa, releasing your hair from his grip as you continued to struggle in vain toward your orgasm.
It was another two or three seconds before you realised he was pulling his hard cock from his pants, and another moment or two before he slid his hands back into your hair and guided your dumb, stupid, wet mouth over the top of his cock quickly.
You let him move your head just how he liked, let him push you down almost farther than you thought you could go. You ground your bare clit down into his shoe as you deepened your breaths, relaxing your body as you took inch after inch of his cock down your throat.
His hands were wound so tight in your hair that there wasn't space to move. You gagged, once and twice, but he held you in place still, enjoying the spit that spluttered around the base of his cock, the spasms of your contracting throat against the tip and length of his cock. You breathed deeply, ignoring the feeling of his pubic hair tickling your nose, scratching your cheek as you flattened out your tongue under his cock. You wished he would move, wished he would give you the space you needed to cum faster.
The desperation of the last few months built up and built up, and you knew that you were close to cumming, your hips rocking out of tempo now, crashing into his foot wildly, ass shaking as you felt his shoelaces rubbing uncomfortably against your thighs.
“God, what a pathetic little bitch, are you going to cum? Cum on my shoe, whore, show me how fucking desperate you are.”
You felt the exact moment your body convulsed against him, you knew the exact movement that made you cum, because you felt the flood of moisture pool underneath you as you squirted all over his floor. You made a note of reminding him to replace the rug before Emily returned.
Your whole body shook as you sat in the pool of your own cum, but he refused to let you pull away.
“Has my little puppy made a mess? What a shame. You can't stop yet, though.”
His grip on your face somehow became stronger, though not unpleasant, as he pulled your head up the length of his cock. You spluttered slightly, feeling the tension slip out of you as he emptied your throat. You didn't have more than a second to react before he quickly snapped your head back down over his cock, down to the base of his dick.
“Keep up, Y/N, this is what you wanted, remember.”
You choked on his cock, and he smiled down at you, taking your gags for nods as he proceeded to fuck your throat, deep and hard.
“So wet and warm for me, like a perfect little pet,” he said, hips already lifting off the couch as he tried to sink deeper into you.
You knew from experience that he'd soon grow tired of the limits of your mouth. He liked to hear you. He liked to see you drooling rather than feel it on his skin. As much as he could force his cock down your throat - and you deeply enjoyed when he did - he could get deeper if he sank into your pussy and you both knew it.
This part was just to lube his cock up, nice and wet, until he could take you nice and quick without having to touch your pussy. He needed you nice and wet and ready for him, especially on days like today where you'd been nothing but a cock tease in need of a harsh fucking. You deserved nothing more.
As predicted, he pulled your head off his cock after a few seconds and hauled you to your feet. You tried to climb onto him, to grip his cock in your hand and just sink down where you belonged, but he stood, too, lifting you up with him.
“Window,” he said, and you knew he must be close if he was ordering you around one word at a time. You nodded, but he kept his hands on you, moving you to the window quickly.
You knew he'd bend you over, take you against the outdoor window, whispering in your ear that anyone outside could see you if they just looked up. Instead, this time, he moved you to the opposite side of the office. The window he pressed you against was the one overlooking your desks, the one where, should he happen to open the blinds, every member of your team would be able to look up and watch you take his dick.
“Everyone left,” he whispered quickly as he shifted the blinds up an inch so you could see.
You breathed a sigh of relief noting that it was as empty as he claimed, but it didn't last long as he gently pressed his cock into your cunt, finally filling you how you'd needed to be filled for the last 60 days.
“Fuck, t-thank you, sir!”
All thoughts about the office below faded as he lifted your leg in his hand and let it rest on the edge of the window, pushing your face against the cold glass. Your office may have been empty, but that wasn't to say that there wasn't someone working late in the other departments, a janitor happening to pass through.
You knew, but you didn't care as you begged him to fill you up more and more.
“Just like that, just like that, yes!!! Fuck yes, Spencer I missed this, I missed you. Missed you so much,” you moaned as your hands slipped down the glass, already fogged with condensation, your hot breath hitting the cold glass.
“Needed this? You've been fucking yourself nightly for the last week. You didn't need this like I needed this,” he moaned, biting into your neck with a sharp kiss as you moaned loudly for him.
“Two m-months. You haven't fucked me for two months, what else was I supposed to do?”
He groaned in your ear again, reaching a hand around you and slapping your clit as he formulated an answer.
“Rest, you were supposed to rest,” he said, thrusts speeding up as your cunt gripped him tighter and tighter the closer you got to your second orgasm.
He groaned and pressed your face into the glass, holding you there and screwing his eyes shut as you both chased release.
“I didn't want to rest, I w-wanted to be by your side.”
His head rested against your shoulder as he felt the last waves of pleasure race towards him. His hand pushed down to your clit and rubbed you, sending you right over the edge with him as he filled you with his cum.
Neither of you could stay upright, collapsing down to the floor in a heap. Usually when he came inside you, he waited a few moments to pull out so he didn't make so much mess when he did. But in his exhaustion, in your shared bliss of finally reaching that precipice after so long, he slipped out early, as cum was still shooting from him.
You heaped together on the floor, chests heaving as you lay on top of him, your peace only broken by a single thought.
“We..-’ you gasped, breathing unsteady. “We need to deep clean this office before Emily comes back.”
He looked down at you, a look so serious and shocked you wondered if he was angry. And then he laughed. Short and soft, he giggled, and you couldn't help but join in, wrapping your arms around your stomach as it began to hurt, chest heaving from the pain of all your joy.
He sat up and gave you a hand up as well as you surveyed the damage.
“The rug has to go,” you said, feeling hot and embarrassed as you noticed the new wet stain on the near offensive fluffy thing.
“We should probably get some new throw pillows, too,” he remarked, and you nodded with a grimace. You made to stand up, but your legs felt weak, and you wobbled, but he was there to catch you, as he stood.
"Maybe just a new couch," you muttered, flushed with heat as you remembered how you'd humped the arm rest not even twenty minutes ago.
He closed the blinds before moving back to the couch and sitting you down on his lap once again, such a familiar place for you to be these days.
“You….” He started, worrying g his bottom lip with his teeth. “You really missed me?”
You startled, taken aback by the question. You thought the videos had made it clear, let alone the last half hour of intimacy.
“I… Yes, Spencer. I missed you a lot. I always miss you.”
“You… you do?”
You nodded again and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.
“Y/N, when I am no longer your boss, in approximately a weeks time, would you possibly consider being my girlfriend?”
For the second time in the last two minutes, the man had you floored. And perhaps a little bit angry.
“I'm not… I'm not your girlfriend now?”
“Hmm? Oh, I-”
“Because I already told my friends about you, and I was definitely saying the word boyfriend, but if that's not what this is, I can correc-”
You saw the panicked look in his eye as he pulled you in for one last kiss.
“That's what this is!” he said frantically, cutting you off when you opened your mouth with another kiss. “I thought you wouldn't think that this was- no!” He kissed you again as you tried again to speak.
“Listen to me! I'm o-older than you, I thought I had to ask still. Do people not ask anymore?” He kissed you before you could answer.
“Rhetorical question.”
“I love yo-” you attempted to confess, but his lips covered yours swiftly, even as his eyes opened wide when he pulled away.
“Wait, no, say that again,” he begged, eyes weak and shiny and absolutely endearingly pathetic.
You shook your head and sealed your lips, miming, zipping them shut and throwing away the key.
“Y/N! Tell me again, tell me you love me again,” he said, kissing each of your cheeks. You poked his chest hard, and he kissed you once more.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, and kissed you again, trying to draw from your lips the words he had cut off earlier, losing himself in the pleasure of the moment as you sat together in the dark office, totally enamoured with one another.
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the dull throb resonating over your entire body is what eventually rouses you, slowly bringing you back into consciousness. your head feels like a sword’s been driven through it, leaving your mind muddled.
the first thing you see is satoru hunched over your bedside, his hand carefully clutching yours. you call his name, but your voice is hoarse and scratchy and barely above a whisper.
he hears you regardless, eyes wide and alert as he lifts his head. he looks tired, dark circles stamped under his eyes and an unusual stiffness in his movements.
“you’re…okay,” he says, strained. as if he can’t believe it. you hum in response - because it’s all you can manage at the moment - feeling your eyelids begin to droop your will. “get some more rest. i’ll call shoko.”
the gentle brush of his lips against your forehead is the last thing you feel before drifting back to sleep.
_____
you’re not sure how much time has passed when you come to. now, the room is illuminated by honeyed lamplight and you see shoko and satoru talking quietly at the foot of your bed.
“glad to see you’re still with us,” your best friend smiles once she notices you’re awake. she moves to your side, leaning over you to pull back the thin blanket. there’s a swathe of bandages wrapped around your shoulder and a sling immobilizing your arm.
“how do you feel?” satoru asks, that worried look still set in his expression.
“i‘m fine,” you manage to answer, trying to blink the room into focus.
“you need to be more careful,” shoko tells you, peeling her gloves off and tossing them into the trash. the usual air indifference in her voice is gone, replaced with concern. “take satoru with you next time. not because i think you’re incapable of doing your job, but so he can do the corny, heroic thing and take the hit for you. god knows he could stand to be humbled every once in a while…”
“thanks, shoko,” your boyfriend scoffs, but the way his hand grips yours tightly tells you he’d be more than willing to be your corny hero.
you hate the way they look down at your prone form as shoko goes over your treatment plan. it makes you feel small and weak, and you are neither of those things.
“can you help me sit up?”
“you shouldn’t be moving around–”
your body burns with protest as you awkwardly push yourself up anyway, exhaling a pained hiss as gojo swears, reaching out to help steady your trembling torso as shoko shoves pillows behind your back.
“i’m fine,” you argue, trying to ignore the throbbing behind your temples. you don’t remember exactly how you’d ended up in the school’s infirmary, just remember the way pain had exploded across your left side when you’d been hit.
“you almost weren’t,” he says quietly. a deeply haunted look clouds his face as he recalls what must have happened after you’d been brought in, and you feel guilty for not being able to remember it.
so you let him squeeze into bed next to you, let him carefully pull you into his chest and hold you until you feel the tension in his body dissipate. you know he needs this a little more than you do, know that the knowledge of you being okay isn’t enough. it won’t stop the fear and anxiety of losing you from gnawing on the edge of his sanity.
“i wanna give the flowers–”
“so you can take all the credit? i’m the one who bought them!”
your pained grimace easily turns to a smile when the door opens to reveal megumi and tsumiki, who are both gripping a bouquet of flowers. nanami follows them in, wearing the tired look of a man that’s never spent more than three hours dealing with moody preteens raised by gojo – until today.
_____
your family spoils you over the next few days. the three of them falling asleep on the little couch in your room, tucked under gojo’s arms every night until you’re cleared to go home. even then, they don’t leave your side. tsumiki snuggles next to you to watch movies and bakes you little treats. megumi reads to you from the book you’d been going through together and listens to your favourite records with you after school.
satoru posts himself by your side. you like having him around. like the gentle way he handles you when working through the stretches shoko prescribes. like watching the way his hands move he diligently slices wedges of fresh fruit.
you like being the focus of his single-minded attention, but you know how restless he can get when he doesn’t go off to work. rightfully so, because the jujutsu world would probably fall apart without him.
“you can go if you want,” you say one day, when he gets off a phone call with yaga. “i’ll be okay for a few hours.”
he doesn’t get up, instead beginning to peel a plump orange (you’d never noticed how nice his hands were until now). “no, nanami’s still covering for me.”
“satoru,” you sigh, taking an orange slice from him. “there’s a lot going on, you have bigger fish to fry.”
“i’m not going anywhere,” he tells you firmly, looking like he’d physically fight the idea of leaving your side. “you’re my fish.”
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★ Pornstar ★
John Price x cam girl! reader
Warnings- 18+-mdni, smut, age gap, cam girl reader, mentions of divorce, explicit language.
wc. 2.5k
a/n, This is my first post, english is not my first language so please bear with me. Pt 2 where she has a private video call with a fan ?
1, 2, 3, 4, 5,
master list 𓂃۶ৎ
You're a star-well, in a very particular sense.
Ghost's younger sister, though few people know that. You went by the stage name Angel Valentine, a name as alluring as the persona you crafted. In all your videos, you wore a delicate black lace eye mask, never willing to fully reveal your identity. You weren't about to let the world, or anyone who might recognize you, connect your real face to the adult websites you frequented. You were always adorned in expensive and delicate lingerie.
John Price had been struggling with loneliness since his divorce. Shamefully, he turned to adult websites and camgirls, seeking solace in fleeting moments of intimacy. That's when he found you-his Angel. You became his nightly obsession, his secret escape from the harshness of his reality. He watched you in the quiet solitude of his barracks, thought of you in the shower, your voice and movements occupying every corner of his mind.
So when he hears that voice—the honey-smooth tone that had haunted his nights—he freezes. He's standing in Ghost's backyard at a birthday party the team had forced together, trying to enjoy himself. But then you walked in.
The second your eyes lock with his, Price feels a heat flush through his body. It's you.
Those eyes, the ones that had gazed up at him so intimately through his screen, now meet his in the real world. His mind races, his chest tightens. He tries to focus, to play it cool, but his eyes betray him, drifting downward.
He knows your body too well-every curve, every detail engraved in his memory from hours of watching you. And yet here you are, standing just a few feet away, speaking to him as innocently as if you were strangers.
But all he can think about are the countless moments he's spent imagining you in positions that make his pulse quicken.
John continued to speak, his eyes flicking down to your lips every so often, thinking about how those same lips looked as you sucked on the pink dildo you always used. He suddenly remembered a video you did where you showed your viewers all you could fit inside your mouth. He had to adjust himself under the table subtly, trying not to get hard.
John spoke to you as if a man possessed, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking to you, he couldn’t stop himself from listening to your voice. He thought he sounded normal as he spoke to you, he thought he sounded casual and cool. But in reality he was trying painfully to hold back. Every time you spoke, he could only think of you calling him Daddy in your porn, and all the sounds you made as you rode different toys, he couldn’t clear his mind.
He had to adjust himself under the table again, the images of you on your back, legs spread, and that pretty little face of yours looking up at him behind the lace eye mask was too much. He tried to focus on anything to keep his mind off of it. The team were chatting, Gaz’s dog running around all the guests, but it still wasn’t enough to keep his mind fully off you.
The team, Ghost included, all noticed the strange interaction between you and Price, and they could tell he was acting strange. Soap and Gaz were the first to comment. “I’ve never seen the old man speak that much before” Gaz commented. “He’s almost never that chatty with us” Soap chuckled as he sipped his drink. “It’s very strange, I’m concerned.” Soap joked. Ghost, was very observant at his best of times, and the way Price was staring at your mouth was not lost on him.
The whole team knew Ghost was the possessive type, and if Price was eyeing up his little sister then that would not go down so well. Ghost watched Price with narrowed eyes, watching him intently.
Ghost leaned into the conversation and watched as you spoke enthusiastically with Price, your doe eyes gazing up at him like you worshipped the ground he walked on.
The team watched the interaction, watching Price flush every time you giggled or touched him on the arm. Soap and Gaz were amused with the whole thing, while Ghost was getting more pissed off by the second.
Price had to bite back a whimper as he watched you drink from that bottle. The way you wrapped your lips as they puckered around the tip, sucking the liquid from the bottle, Price’s mind was running WILD with the implications.
˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Smut ₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Price closed the door to his house as he locked the door and walked in. Throwing his keys and coat on the floor, Price walked over to his computer and sat down. Price opened up his browser, going to the site he’s come to frequent.
He typed in the URL, already having it memorised, the site opened and he immediately went to the camgirl he was addicted to watching. The moment he loaded the website he was met with your streams. He eagerly clicked on his favorite one.
You were sitting on your bed, wearing a pretty red nightie that was thin and lacey, and of course the black lace eye mask on your face. But Price remembered what was underneath the lace, now that he’d finally seen it, he was desperate to see it again.
Price watched with a fixed gaze as you spoke on your stream, interacting with your viewers. It felt like you were speaking to him directly everytime you spoke to the stream.
Price could listen to you speak all night long, he loved the sound of your voice. But all he could think about the last time you spoke to him earlier that night was your lips wrapped around the top a bottle.
He whispers your stage name like a prayer, his eyes glued to the screen as you interact with your viewers. He feels jealousy stirring within him as he watches other men typing messages in the chat, trying to get your attention.
his breath hitches in his throat as you begin to slowly remove your clothing, just like every other night he's watched you. But tonight feels different - tonight he knows who you really are. "Dear god..." he unbuckles his belt with shaky hands, his heart racing as he watches you reveal more and more skin. The thin red nightie falls to the floor, leaving you naked, he imagines touching your soft and tender skin.
he lets out a low growl, his eyes fixed on your body as you sit there, completely unaware of his presence. He reaches into his pants, pulling out his aching cock and starting to stroke it slowly as he watches you. "Fuck... Angel..." he whispers, his voice strained with desire. He leans in closer to the screen, his eyes widening as you slowly trace your fingers along your collarbone and down to your breasts. Each movement is deliberate, teasing, sending electricity coursing through his veins. He squeezes his throbbing cock tighter, biting his lip to stifle a groan.
His eyes are glued to the screen, his jaw dropped as he watches you lay back on the bed, spreading your legs wide open. He can see everything, your glistening pussy, your bare ass, everything. He strokes his cock so fast now, precum leaking from the tip. "Fuck fuck fuck..." He watches in awe as you bring your fingers to your lips, sucking them wet before slowly sliding your hand between your spread thighs. He can almost feel the warmth of your breath on his screen as he watches you rub your slick folds, his own hand moving furiously on his erection.
You gaze into the camera, asking for permission to touch yourself. His eyes roll back in his head at the sound of those words, Daddy. He can feel his release getting closer just from hearing you beg like that. "Yes baby girl," he chokes out, his voice hoarse with desire, "Put your little finger inside, like a good girl." he talks to you through the screen.
He watches, transfixed, as you slowly push your finger inside yourself, your back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan. The sight of your finger disappearing into your tight pussy is almost too much for him, he can feel his balls tightening, his cock throbbing. "Fuck..."He's so close now, his hand a blur on his dick as he watches you finger yourself. The sounds of your wetness fill his room, mingling with his own heavy breathing. "Add another one, baby," he grunts, "Stretch that little pussy open for daddy."
His eyes lock onto yours, his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you add another finger. He can see the desperation in your gaze, the pleading look in your wide eyes as you stare straight at the camera. It's like you're looking directly at him, calling his name. He gasps sharply, his cock twitching violently in his grip as he watches your eyes find his in the camera. It's too much - the stare, the fingers pumping into your pussy, the breathy gasps.
He bites back another groan, feeling the tingling pressure building at the base of his cock and spreading through his groin. Your fingers are pumping faster now, plunging into that glistening pink pussy, and the sight is too incredible. His voice comes out in a strained whisper "That's it baby, finger-fuck yourself just like that... show daddy what a good girl you are." His strokes become quick and shallow, matching your rhythm "Keep going... keep looking at daddy..."
He watches, transfixed, as you pull your glistening fingers from your pussy and slowly, sensuality bring them to your mouth. His cock throbs violently in his grip as you wrap your lips around them, sucking your juices clean. It's the hottest thing he's ever seen.
His eyes go wide with anticipation as you reach for your giant pink dildo, showing it off with that playful giggle that drives him crazy. His strokes slow down, wanting to savor every moment as he watches you. "Fuck baby... look at the size of that thing." He can feel his orgasm building as he watches you seductively lick the tip of the dildo like it's the best thing you've ever tasted. His hand moves faster, matching the rhythm of your licks.
His breath hitches in his throat as he watches you take that massive toy deeper into your hot little mouth, bobbing your head up and down like a innocent little angel giving a blowjob to a giant pink monster. His hand moves furiously now, his knuckles turning white. "You look... "he grunts "So fucking hot... sucking that big dildo like it's my cock... Fuck, baby, I'm so close... You're gonna make daddy come just watching you."
He watches, completely mesmerized, as you slowly pull the dildo out of your mouth with a loud pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the toy. His mouth goes dry at the sight, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he can't hold back any longer. His eyes lock onto the massive pink toy as you position it between your thighs, lifting your tiny waist off the bed. He can feel his release building, his hot seed spurting into his palm as he watches you prepare to impale yourself on that dildo. "Oh god..." His cock pulses violently in his grip as he watches you shamelessly grind the huge dildo against your tiny clit. The sight of your delicate pink lips kissing the enormous head sends a shudder of pure lust through him. Sweat beads on his forehead as he fights to hold back his impending orgasm.
His voice comes out in a barely controlled growl "Stop teasing... Jesus... push it in, baby... show me how you take that massive cock... Before I explode all over myself watching you." His strokes become rougher, jerking himself frantically "Fuck... Fuck..."He practically sees stars, his world narrowing down to the exquisite torture unfolding before his eyes. As you slowly guide the enormous tip of the dildo into your tight little entrance, a strangled cry escapes his throat. "Holy shit, baby... yes... Take it... Take that huge fucking cock..."
His eyes roll back in his head, his body shaking violently as he watches you sink down onto that massive toy, your petite frame stretching to accommodate the enormous girth. The sound of your erotic moan, the sight of your jaw dropping open in shock and pleasure... It's too much. "FUCK..."His cock spurts involuntarily at the sight of you riding that massive dildo, your tits bouncing beautifully in your grasp. His whole body convulses as he watches your wet pussy sliding up and down the glistening shaft. "My god... look at how you take it..."
His hand moves in a blur, jackhammering his dick as he watches you fuck yourself senseless on that gigantic toy. The room fills with the sound of his heavy breathing and the wet slapping of his palm against his rock-hard cock. "You're gonna make me come so hard, baby..." He watches you ride that enormous cock with pure abandon, your tiny body bouncing on it like a professional porn star. The sight of your full tits bouncing up and down, combined with the erotic show you're putting on, finally pushes him over the edge. "Fuck! I'm coming..."
As you start frantically rubbing your clit while bouncing on the dildo, his release becomes impossible to hold back. He unleashes a torrent of hot cum onto his stomach, painting it white as he watches you teeter on the brink of your own orgasm. "Yes... Fucking hell, yes..." panting heavily, he watches as you continue to ride the dildo with wild abandon, your fingers working furiously on your clit. "That's it, baby... Don't stop... Make yourself come on that huge cock... I want to see it..." His breathing hitches as he watches you lose all inhibitions, your body convulsing as you slam yourself down onto the massive toy over and over. The room is filled with the sound of your wet flesh slapping against the rubber and your desperate, mewling cries. His cock hardens again.
“Come on, baby... Come all over that fucking dick... Let me see you fall apart..."He watches, mesmerized, as your entire body goes rigid and you throw your head back in a silent scream of pure ecstasy. Your pussy clamps down on the dildo like a vice, your juices pouring out and coating the toy and your thighs.
"Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He strokes himself furiously, his eyes locked on the sight of you collapsed onto the bed, the dildo still buried inside you. With a final, strangled groan, he unleashes another massive load of cum, this time aiming it directly at the screen.
#Spotify#john price#john price x reader#cod mw2#call of duty#smut#john price smut#age g4p#john price x you#captain price#price smut#cod smut#john price x reader smut#doll3scentwrites!#my first post woo! how did i do
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We’ve Still Got Time
Summary: After receiving some life-altering news, you try to make Bucky understand that it's time to let the past go. Inspired by the song “Falling Slowly” (in my mind it was written just for Bucky ok 🥺) Pairing: Bucky x reader Word count: 3.1k Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, lots of tears, extreme fluff. A/n: English is not my first language, so sorry in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy! also, happy 2025 for us bucky girlies!!! our man is coming back soon! ✨
Bucky woke up to the sound of running water and a toothbrush being used. The white light from the bathroom spilled into the bedroom you both shared. The clock on his nightstand read 4:07 a.m. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to the side, realizing your side of the bed was empty. Furrowing his eyebrows, he wondered why you were up at this hour brushing your teeth. Unable to think of a reason fast enough, he decided to get up and check on you.
“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked in a confused tone, his hoarse voice carrying the weight of sleep. His hair was a little messy, and his metal arm reflected the soft light from the bathroom. He was shirtless, and his gray sweatpants hung just above his hips.
“I’m sorry I woke you, Buck,” you replied, drying your face with a small towel. “I don’t know. I think I must have eaten something that didn’t sit well with my stomach. I just woke up feeling really nauseous. I threw up, but at least I feel a little better now.”
Bucky closed the distance between you, moving toward you slowly and giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. His expression was serious, his lips almost forming a pout.
“Why didn’t you wake me up? I feel bad knowing you were sick all by yourself.”
He held your face softly, and you looked up at him, scanning his features and silently admiring how concerned he always was for you. You couldn’t understand how someone so caring could think such terrible things about himself and carry so much guilt when this was the man he really was: calm, reliable, attentive. You prayed he could see it someday, too.
“I wouldn’t wake you,” you replied, caressing his cheek gently. “I know those nightmares have been coming back these past few weeks, haven’t they?”
He looked down, ashamed he hadn’t been able to hide them from you. You always knew.
He sighed and nodded, reluctantly admitting the unpleasant truth. His nightmares came in phases. Sometimes, they haunted him almost every night with terrible flashes from his past – people he had killed, accidents he had caused, futures he had destroyed. Or worse, scenarios in which you would get hurt. Sometimes, by him. Those were the worst ones. Other times they would come less frequently, almost letting him believe that he was making progress in his “healing journey”, as you liked to call it. But they eventually came back. To him, they were proof he would never truly be at peace, never able to leave the past behind.
“Yes, as usual,” he admitted. “But it’s okay. You don’t need to worry.”
“That’s impossible,” you replied, already recognizing his habit of downplaying things and subtly pushing you away, retreating into his world of self-loathing. “I’ll always worry. I just wish you would have talked to me about it.”
“I’m sorry,” he said while engulfing you in a warm hug. He had a defeated expression in his features that made you even more worried. God knows what kind of thoughts he was having about himself. You wish you could take them away.
“Let’s just go back to sleep, so you’re rested and feeling better in the morning. Deal?” You smiled weakly and decided to let the matter go, for now. “Deal,” you agreed, letting him take your hand and guide you back to bed. For the next few weeks, you continued to have moments where you felt unwell.
You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your body started to feel different. Your stomach was more sensitive than usual, leaving you with the now-familiar waves of nausea. You felt sleepier at random moments during the day, and your stamina during training sessions at the compound suddenly diminished. You felt more out of breath during workouts and sparring. And food began to smell and taste different. One morning, the pancakes Bucky made you almost daily for breakfast smelled “eggier” than usual—you could smell the eggs in the batter from what felt like miles away.
After weeks of feeling like this, you thought it was probably due to low vitamin levels and decided you should schedule a routine doctor’s appointment soon.
But in one of your weekly sparring sessions with Natasha, you started to feel a slight dizziness, so you asked her for a time-out.
“Are you okay?” she asked, raising one of her eyebrows.
“Yeah, I just—I don’t know. I’ve been feeling kind of weak for a while now,” you admitted, closing your eyes and resting a hand on your forehead in an attempt to steady yourself. “I think I just need to get some blood work done. It’s been a while since my last check-up.” “Weak how, exactly?”
“I feel like I’m always tired lately. More worn out. And my appetite is all over the place.”
Natasha looked at you with a suspicious expression before asking an unexpected question.
“Hmm, feeling weak, huh? Have you taken a pregnancy test?”
Your eyes shot open, and you stared at her, trying to process what she had just said. “What?”
“Yes, have you?” Nat repeated, crossing her arms and leaning into one hip with a slight smirk as if she knew something you didn’t.
“I- No, I- I didn’t… My period is only two days late, which is sort of normal for me. Do you think I should?” you questioned her, not knowing if you were talking more to yourself or to her.
“(Y/n) yes, you should! Have you talked to Barnes about it?”
“Not really. I didn’t pay much attention to this. I didn’t have time to.”
The truth was, you and the whole team had been preparing for an important mission in a few months, one that had been weighing heavily on Bucky’s mind especially, since it involved Hydra. The team was set to infiltrate a secret Hydra base in Hungary in order to retrieve intel on potential undercover Hydra agents within S.H.I.E.L.D.
You were almost sure this was the reason Bucky’s nightmares had gotten worse. He tensed up every time you or someone else mentioned the mission, or during training, probably dreading the feeling of going back to a place so connected to everything that he wanted to forget. He tried so hard to hide it but for you, it was so easy to sense his anxiety. The way his blue eyes grew distant, drifting to the floor as if trying to escape his own thoughts. Or how his fists clenched, fingers pressing into his palms almost to the point of pain, while he tried to take deep breaths every time Steve went over the mission details with the group.
“Then take the test,” Natasha urged, stepping closer and putting a reassuring hand on yours when she noticed the frightened look on your face. “If you’re pregnant, you need to know before the mission. And you need to tell Barnes. You both need to decide if going on this mission is still an option.”
“But Nat” you began, squeezing her hand, feeling so scared and unprepared for the scenario she just mentioned. “I- I don’t know if Bucky is in a good headspace for this now. He’s been so off lately. The Hydra stuff has been really getting to him.”
Natasha offered you a comforting smile, her confidence and support unwavering.
“You’ll both be fine. I’m here if you need me. And Steve is, too.” Later that same day, you found yourself in a situation you never imagined you’d be in right now.
Trembling hands, tears streaming down your face, and your heartbeat drumming loudly in your ears. A white and blue pregnancy test sat on the marble counter of your bathroom. You stared at the word that appeared on the small screen.
+ Pregnant
You froze. You looked at yourself in the mirror and blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t dreaming. You weren’t. A wave of happiness washed over you. So much happiness. It was unexpected, yes, but you had always told Bucky he would be a wonderful dad. Yet every time you brought up the subject, he’d say he would like to be a father someday, but that it probably wasn’t a good idea. According to him, he could never be a good role model for a child.
Your first thought was running to Nat or Steve. You wanted to tell one of them and hear that everything would be alright, that Bucky would be alright with all of this. But it was already kind of late. They’re probably asleep by now, you thought to yourself. At the same time, you knew the person who really needed to know about this was in the living room, watching a random reality TV show with Sam.
You couldn’t bear to be alone another minute. The anxiety was overwhelming.
You decided to text Bucky and ask him to come to your room. If you went to the living room, there was no way Sam wouldn’t notice something was up, and you didn’t need another situation right now.
“Can you please come to our room, it’s urgent.” You texted and hoped he would check his phone as soon as possible.
Not even five minutes later you heard the door of your room open, followed by anxious footsteps entering the room.
“Sweetheart? Are you okay? I just got your text.” Bucky asked, his voice filled with concern.
“Hi, love” you said, stepping out of the bathroom and faking a half smile, searching for his hand and guiding him to the bed. You were terrified but at the same time you didn’t wanna scare him. “Come with me, I need to talk to you.”
“What happened?” Bucky questioned, his eyes quickly searching your face for any clues of what might have happened. You could see the worry creeping into his expression.
You sat next to him on the bed and held his hands tightly. The cold touch of his metal hand on yours offered a brief distraction from what you were about to tell him. You took a deep breath, still unsure how to begin. You decided that starting with some context might be easier.
“So, basically, for the past few weeks, I’ve started to feel a little… off. Do you remember the night you woke up because I felt sick in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, I do” Bucky answered calmly, trying to figure out where you were going with this.
“Well, besides that, I’ve been feeling different. My stomach has been constantly upset, my appetite has been strange, I’ve been feeling more tired than usual, and I–”
“(Y/n), are you sick?” Bucky interrupted, already imagining all the worst scenarios in his head.
“Buck, no” you replied quickly, closing your eyes and trying to breathe to calm yourself down. “Listen. As I was saying, I talked about these symptoms with Nat today and she… she asked... if I had already taken a pregnancy test.”
You paused, watching his face closely for a reaction. He seemed to freeze, taking a few seconds to process your words. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath – a breath that felt heavy with sadness. It broke your heart.
He opened his eyes again and they were glistening with tears. His eyes looked even more blue than they already were.
For a moment, you considered not saying anything more, but you knew he needed to hear it – all of it.
“So, I… I took a test just now,” you continued, your voice trembling as tears began to run down your face. “And it’s… it’s positive.” You wiped your nose with the sleeve of your sweater, struggling to keep your composure.
“I’m sorry” you said crying, heartbroken because this was the reaction you had been dreading. You felt like you had ruined his life.
Now, he was the one silently crying. He still held your hands, his thumb softly tracing circles over your palm, his gaze fixed on your intertwined fingers.
“Please, say something, Bucky,” you pleaded, the silence only giving your mind space to imagine horrible possibilities.
“No, I’m the one who should be saying sorry, (Y/n),” he finally said, his voice breaking as tears slowly streamed down his face. “This baby deserves someone better. You deserve someone better.”
“What are you talking about?” you asked, reaching out to hold his cheek, your heart breaking at the words that he had just spoken. “What do you mean, ‘we deserve someone better’?”
“Yes! Yes, you do!” he exclaimed, his voice rising as he finally let the storm inside him surface. “How is this baby going to grow up knowing all the awful things I’ve done?”
He got up from the bed, putting some distance between the two of you. He was still crying quietly, and it felt like he had been keeping this inside for so long. His body was facing the window. He couldn’t even look at you.
“You didn’t do those things, Buck. The Winter Soldier did,” you spoke clearly, hoping that he would somehow believe it.
“It doesn’t matter, does it? I still did it.”
“Of course it matters! You didn’t have a choice!” you raised your voice, frustrated at how he could still blame himself so much.
“Everyone tells me that, but it doesn’t help, you know?” he replied, turning his body back toward you. His voice was low. “When I lie down to sleep, I keep seeing their faces. I can still hear their cries, begging for help, for mercy.”
“Buck, I—I’m so sorry,” you told him, holding your tears back again. You’d give anything to take his sadness away.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be free from what they did to me,” he stated, his face showing a defeated expression. “I know Ayo got the Hydra programming out of my mind in Wakanda, but still… it’s all here,” he said, pressing his index finger to his temple. “I remember all of them, and I always will.”
You got up and decided to close the distance between you. You raised both of your hands to his cheeks and held his face gently, making him look at you. You needed him to hear every word you were about to say.
“Honey, look at me,” you began, your voice serious but soft. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel. And I want you to know I’d do anything – anything – if I could to make this suffering go away. It breaks my heart to see you in so much pain and not be able to do anything-”
“No, sweetheart, but you do,” he interrupted you, wiping the tears from your face. “You have no idea how many ways you’ve saved me.”
He closed his eyes and kissed your forehead. Both of you were crying again, and you could feel all his gratitude in that one kiss.
“You save me every day. It would be impossible for me to survive those nightmares if I didn’t have your face to look at every time I wake from one of them.” He gave you a sad smile while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand resting on your cheek afterward.
You leaned into his metal hand and kissed his palm. Your eyes were once again glistening with tears.
“Do you see this, James?” you asked, hoping that he would understand what you were trying to show him.
“This is you,” you continued, placing one hand on his heart. “This is Bucky Barnes. The man who has a metal arm and touches me like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. The man who makes pancakes for me every morning. The man who’s afraid of punching me too hard in our sparring sessions, even though he knows I’m a kick-ass agent.”
“That you are,” he agreed, both of you crying and laughing at the same time. You quickly wiped his tears away.
“The man who watches trashy reality TV shows with his friend on a Thursday night. This is you. And this is the man who is going to be the father of my child,” you finished, placing his flesh hand on your belly.
He continued to cry. You just prayed that your words would finally make their way into his heart.
“So tell me, how could you say I deserve better? That this baby deserves better?”
He was still looking at his hand on your belly, trying to understand how he could still be worthy of having a family after he had destroyed so many others.
“Look at me, Buck,” you called, guiding his gaze back to you. “You suffered enough. More than enough. You’ve warred with yourself for so long. It’s time that you won.”
He closed his eyes and tried to absorb the words he had just heard. It was so hard for him to accept that he deserved happiness, but he was so grateful that you have never stopped trying.
“You made it. We’re here, and you made it. Now we’ve still got time. We’ve still got all the time in the world for you to finally live. Your life, how you want it,” you continued, kissing the palm of his metal hand again. It was your way of showing him that you loved all of him, even the part that brought him the most pain.
“This baby is so lucky to have you as a dad. And to be honest, this kid is going to brag so much to the other children about how his dad’s got a metal arm.” For the first time, you heard an honest laugh escape from his lips. The sound was wonderful.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but it must have been something really good,” he replied, finally pulling you close and giving you a warm kiss.
“I love you- we love you.”
“I’m so scared. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to… be a role model for someone.” You could see the worry in his eyes. He was genuinely scared.
“Bucky, yes, you do. You just have to be you. I don’t need you to be perfect, I just need you to be here. Can you do that for us, Sergeant?”
He gave you a warm smile, filled with gratitude and hope - the hope you had just given him. He looked at your lips and kissed you once more, holding your belly delicately.
“Yes, I can, ma’am. Yes, I can.” he agreed easily “but.. speaking of sergeant, now there’s no way you’re going on that mission.”
“Excuse me? I’m still in the first few weeks of this pregnancy. And how about you? This baby will need both parents.”
“Okay okay, so we’ll let Uncle Steve decide who's going and who’s not. Deal?”
“Okay, sir. Deal.”
Well, you have suffered enough And warred with yourself It's time that you won Take this sinking boat and point it home We've still got time Raise your hopeful voice, you had a choice You've made it now ~~ Falling Slowly (from the musical Once)
Feedback is always welcome, feel free to comment, like and reblog! Hope you enjoyed 🤍
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#marvel x reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine#tfatws#the winter soldier#the winter solider x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes x female reader
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"If I don't jerk off in the next twenty four hours my dick is going to explode."
Legs laid bare upon a throne of pillows, the cuff legs of your tight shorts amplifies the volume of your rear as taunting laughter floods your partners bedroom.
"Oooo, seven days in and you're already throwing in the towel, V?"
Hands sorting through his hair, fingers tugging at the roots - V kneels at the end of his bed as they moan in frustration. "This would be ten times easier if you weren't laying in my bed with your ass cheeks hanging out the backside of your shorts! How the fuck am I not suppose to stroke my shit for a month like this!"
"Hey." Rolling onto your backside, you meticulously drag one knee over the other; shirt rolling up your midsection as you stretch out across the mattress.
"You agreed to the terms and conditions. Not me. Neither you or I pay for the heating so I'm perfectly fine shedding a few layers while I'm here. It's so warm in here I might take off even more."
The throbbing in his jeans at those few little words makes V want to cry. The passage of time never meant alot to them, but this cursed month has got to be the longest he's ever endured. Haunted by their thirst for your flesh, the end goals ring clear in his mind.
Cat ears. Maid dresses. Cheerleader uniforms. Cuddle sex. All that and more if they win this stupid bet.
"If you do that I will literally throw myself out that fucking window. December first I want you on your hands and knees the second midnight hits."
"Them's were the rules, V. It's up to you if you can last."
#V my oc#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#yandere oc#yandere imagines#yandere insert#yandere blurb#yandere scenarios#male yandere#suggestive#yandere drabble
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RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME | g. tomioka
(this is part two! click here for part one)
synopsis: you left without saying goodbye, giyu needs to know why... author's note: hellllooooo. the reaction to part one of this story was incredible. i cannot thank any of you enough for your kind words seriously. this one is for all of you <3 (psst... to all the swifites, if you can point out two other song references besides rwylm you get a gold star) cw: ANGST (lol like there wasn't enough in the first part), blood, gore, spoilers about rengoku, HAPPY ENDING, not proofread wc: 4.2k
click here for my masterlist
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There was nothing more frustrating than lack of communication. As much as he wished he could read your mind, as much as he begged and pleaded to deaf ears you were just one hard shell to fully crack open. Though Giyu supposed he was probably the same. But at least he was making an effort. He thought you’d make one too.
But as Giyu sat cross legged at a Hashira meeting he could meet all their eyes but yours. You didn’t spare him a glance like you spared him your time those few weeks ago. Almost a month and a half now and for some reason Giyu couldn’t stop counting the days, the hours and minutes.
45 days since you knocked at his door.
1,080 hours since you grabbed him, your cheeks wet as you pressed your lips to his.
64,800 minutes since Giyu woke up in the morning to an empty bed.
It never got easier. Each day was like this stabbing pain in his chest. A persistent feeling of desertion. He’d thought things had changed since that night. The night you cried and cried and kissed and kissed.
He wrote you letter after letter but no response. Now here you were in the same room, in a room filled with others but Giyu only felt your presence. Like a heightened sense that haunted him so stunningly that he wondered if your lack of attention would actually kill him. As if he overdosed on it once and now he’d never be able to wean himself off you.
You were so close, only maybe three feet from him but you felt worlds away. Could he have done something wrong? Showed too many of his cards too soon? Scared you off? Sure you reciprocated his kisses, in fact you were the initiator. But when it came to a verbal confession there was nothing for Giyu to latch onto. No words, just your actions. But your actions betrayed you. You treated him as if that night never even happened. For 45 days. It was like torture. To want something so badly, to have it for a fleeting moment then lose it. Giyu was losing it.
“Mr. Tomioka?” Your voice was like a shot of ice through his veins. Giyu blinked the fogginess from his brain and cleared his throat. Your attention was on him. The room is empty. Giyu hadn’t noticed the meeting had ended. Didn’t notice everyone leaving.
“Hmm?” He forced out, his eyes sliding to yours. Mr. Tomioka? Even before everything you called him Giyu. But now… you addressed him as though he was some stranger. A room alone, a room with you. He could say what was on his mind finally.
“Did you pay attention in the meeting?” You asked. Giyu stared at you. You were looking at him. After 45 days of starving for your attention he found himself unable to act normally with it on him now.
“Hmm…? Oh! Uh— yes…” Giyu stuttered out, feeling hopelessly useless. Feeling utterly ridiculous.
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said coldly, turning to leave.
“Wait-“ Giyu stepped forwards. Tomorrow? What was tomorrow? A talk? An explanation for your icy treatment? You turned, threw him a look over your shoulder. It was like you read his confusion. As if you knew he paid zero attention in the meeting.
“The training grounds near your house. We’ll meet at sunrise.” You said and then your eyes lingered a second before you turned and left. Giyu found himself stuck still even a couple minutes after you left. Like his legs had forgotten their purpose. In fact, those 45 days he’d been right where you left him. A hopeless, nearly broken man. Stuck back in the time he had you. Haunting his house and his training grounds and everywhere he stood. You seemed to have moved on, seemed to maybe have even forgotten about the fleeting moment. Was that all it was to you? A fleeting moment? Maybe even a severe lapse of judgment? Something like that couldn’t have been a declaration of love. Giyu could and had been thinking himself in circles. He wished he said more. Wished he said less. Ran through everything over and over. Replayed it so often the record was starting to skip.
Giyu tossed and turned all night. He didn’t sleep even a wink. You wanted to talk. Maybe explain things. Giyu knew whatever it was that kept you so far from him he was willing to work through to find a solution. He was willing to crumble your walls. Or wait. If you’d just verbally ask him to wait he’d pause his life forever for you. He’d become a ghost. Time could come and go on for everybody else but he’d wait diligently for you. He’d wait like the moon and chase after you like the sun. If only you’d just give him a damn reason.
Giyu turned, the moon shining through a crack in his curtains. His eyes drifted to the empty spaces beside him. The same space he’d left empty since you vacated it. With splayed fingers he touched the spot of his bed and willed himself to remember that night. As if he’d ever forget it in the first place. He was restless so he moved out of bed and to his desk. He pulled out a few letters. Some from Rengoku and some from Kagaya. Both with the same topic. Giyus favorite topic. You.
Giyu carefully slid open the first letter he ever received from Rengoku. He felt a pang just merely looking at the older man’s handwriting. All jagged and loud. He smiled as he reread its contents.
-
Good morning Mr. Tomioka!
I was shocked to see you had written to me but pleasantly surprised! I am doing well, how’re you? I heard you are well on your way to becoming the next water hashira! How exciting! I know we’ve only met a few times but you have the demeanor of a water hashira. You seem cool and collected! You have a calm voice and although it’s hard to hear you sometimes I still appreciated our talks! About your interest in my tsuguko; she is doing well. She is very fiery. I could see her becoming the next fire Hashira. She sort of reminds me of you in the way she speaks. Though sometimes I can get her to raise her voice and it’s quite adorable. It would be lovely if you visited her. I’m sure she’d love to see you again after you saved her life. But if you’re too busy that is fine, I can always just write you with updates about her. Maybe I can even try and get her to write you a letter sometime! Anyways, Mr. Tomioka, hope this letter finds you well!
With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku
-
Giyu laughed at the ink splotch on the paper next to Rengoku’s name. It was a common theme in his letters. Probably wrote sort of hard. Giyu carefully closed the letter and opened the last letter Rengoku ever wrote.
-
Good morning Mr. Tomioka!
Congratulations on becoming the water Hashira! The other hashira’s seemed sort of bummed you weren’t able to make it to the little celebration but I knew that kind of thing just isn’t your style so I decided to write you this letter instead. I knew you had a fiery streak somewhere in you! We all do! I have a mission coming up and saw that you have one too! I would like for you to let my tsuguko accompany you on your mission! I think she could use a bit of quiet in her life. She’s always go go go! Just like me! But I think you two could get along very very well, Mr. Tomioka! I think she thinks of you fondly. I once asked her about the boy who saved her and I am pretty sure she blushed! Ha-ha! Don’t be disheartened by her cold attitude, as long as she doesn’t verbally attack you that means you might be in her good graces! She’s come a long way, I see sparks of softness in her that I hope you’ll appreciate. She loves miso soup and sweet potatoes, she gets it from me! She loves to read and can’t get enough of the ocean so be sure after your mission to take her swimming. It could be a date! You think I don’t know why you often write asking me about her, right? I’ll pretend I don’t! She’s not much of a talker like you but she listens and remembers everything you say. That mind’s like a steel trap! Please take care of her and I’ll tell her to play nice though I’m not sure she knows how to! Ha-ha! Only kidding. Be safe, Mr. Tomioka and good luck on your first mission as a Hashira!
With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku
-
Giyu still blushes as he reads the letter. Rengoku knew Giyu’s intentions even though he was sure he was being discreet. He carefully folded the letter back up and as he did a hint of the rising sun peaked its way through his curtains. He sprung up from his seat. He couldn’t be late in meeting with you so he hurriedly got dressed and tumbled his way out of his home. He rounded the corner to the training field and stopped dead in his tracks.
You were there.
You were actually there.
Your sword clutched tightly in your hand as you swung it to and fro, practicing against a ghostly opponent. Giyu watched you. He blinked for a moment and saw Rengoku, in the way you swung your sword, the way you moved, the way your haori flew behind you, like flames licking the air. Rengoku taught you everything you knew and you applied his fighting style with grace and ease. Giyu honestly had never seen you in a battle. And his breath halted as he watched the confidence in your demeanor. Watched the sure way you’d swing, the velocity and speed. The preciseness. You were definitely Rengoku’s tsuguko. In fact, maybe you were even more than that. Almost like his shadow, his predecessor. And you held that title with grace. Giyu almost felt choked up knowing damn well Rengoku was more than proud of you.
“Just gonna stand there all day?” You asked, your swing coming through to slice clean through a practice dummy. One half falling to the dirt, kicking up dust. Giyu found himself unable to speak once again as you turned. That attention too much to bear. You hiked up your brow and pointed your sword in his direction. “Well, are you ready to spar?”
“Spar?” Giyu echoed as you nodded your head, walking like a predator towards him.
“Where’s your sword?”
“That’s why you’re here?”
“Why else would I be?” You asked, eyes daring him to mention things you clearly wanted to forget. Giyu blinked through the breaking of his heart. He’d never felt pain like this. Never knew someone could ignite such warmth then douse it in icy cold water. He never thought you of all people would stab him clean through. Giyu turned just as his emotions were too much to hide. He walked and grabbed his sword, waited a moment to try and gather his composure before returning back a few feet from you.
There was something in your eyes. He knew this sight was probably the last thing every single demon that had crossed you had seen for themselves. Eyes like fire, you morphed in front of his eyes into the flames that danced with your techniques.
You took the first swing, your movement like the flickering. Your strikes felt hot, as if his skin would sear completely off. Giyu controlled his feelings, he pushed them to the side and met your violence of fire with the calmness of water. Metal clanged, and although you’d killed him moments ago with your words you brought him straight back to life with the way you fought. You’d found yet another thing for him to fall in love with.
Damn you.
After several minutes passed and one final swing you both stepped back. It was clear it was a draw. Not a single time did someone pull ahead and leave the other in the dust. Each strike was met with an equal block. You two were an equal match. For a moment you two just stared at each other, dripping in sweat, the sun and heat finally rising. You reached up and wiped your forehead with the back of your arm and sighed.
“So it’s a draw.” You said and Giyu nodded his head. A silent moment passed before you pulled your eyes from his and walked to your stuff. Giyu watched. Watched you pack up your things and give a halfhearted wave to him as you walked back towards the road.
“That’s it?” Giyu called out suddenly. He swore he saw you flinch.
“Either Obanai or Shinazugawa will be here tomorrow for the same match.” You called over your shoulder. The cold shoulder you’d given him for so long. 46 days now.
“That’s not what I meant.” Giyu took a step but you resumed walking. “What did I do?”
“Have a good day, Mr. Tomioka.” You said and the moment you were out of sight Giyu tore off after you.
-
46 days ago you’d been laying next to Giyu Tomioka. You’d woke up early and in the morning light you could see his face again. He looked at peace as he slept beside you, his arms around you, his breathing light. You reached across the small expanse between you two and tucked his raven black hair out of his face. Giyu moved barely in his sleep and you yanked your hand away, shy as though he’d catch you admiring him. As though you hadn’t just spent the night together. Once he settled you gazed at him. Something, you knew what it was now, bloomed in your chest. Was this something you could truly have? To kill demons and go home to someone like him at the end of the day? Home… what would that even be like? What would that even look like for you? Slowly you sat up in his bed, covers falling from your shoulders, pooling at your torso.
Everyone you had ever loved died horribly. You felt as though a curse was placed upon you. Penance for the deaths of your family.
Ever since Rengoku had died there was this thought that haunted you. A sort of prophecy you felt had cursed your very being. No matter how many times you thought about leaving Rengoku there was no way to ever go back and board that train with him. No way to deny his request and maybe even save his life. Would you have been useful or would you have been a hindrance? Would your presence have even changed a thing or were you just destined to love and lose? Your eyes flicked to Giyu, face barely illuminated by the sun rising.
If you stayed in this bed would you watch him die as well? Just the thought made you physically sick to the stomach. You felt like a kid stuffed into a hiding place all over again. A helpless, useless kid.
If you let yourself love him and be with him, the pain of losing him might actually do you in for good. And if you left right now… would that save his life from the curse placed upon you?
Turns out you're quite self sabotaging after all. And by morning you slipped out of his house, tearing back towards the inn, running with your tail between your legs.
-
“Do I not deserve an explanation?” Giyu called out to you, you'd almost made it to the end of his house. You paused, turning.
“Leave it.” You answered lethargically.
“Did you even read my letters?”
“What letters?” You asked and when your eyes found his face the utter pain on it made your stomach drop.
“I wrote to you… many times. Your crow should’ve delivered it to you.” Giyu explained, his face utterly disheartened. You glanced at your crow, who’d been curiously pecking at some bugs in the distance.
“I never received them.” You answered and clenched your jaw. You deserved to see him hurt. The pain you caused him was something you wouldn’t let yourself look away from this time. Giyu haori swayed slightly in the wind, he couldn’t meet your eyes.
“Tell me what to do.” Giyu says and you blink at him, your brows furrowing.
“What?”
“I’ll wait. I’ll let dust collect over my life until you wish to have me back.”
“I don't want that.” You said with a start. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself back into some composure. “I want you… to… go on ahead.” Slowly Giyu raises his eyes to meet yours.
“What do you mean?”
“I could never feel the same way you feel for me. So I want you to move on.” You said and kept your eyes glued to him as you said it. You didn’t let one smallest ounce of pain show on your face.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not worth dying over.”
“I’m not worth dying over, Master!” You screamed, pain coursing through you. You watched Rengoku surpass his limits, a demon pushing him far past them. The same demon that had gotten the jump on you moments ago. The man couldn’t hear you. You stumbled forwards, blood dripping from a wound somewhere on your head, the blood getting in your eyes. You stumbled, losing your footing, your sword clattering against the stones out of your grip. “Rengoku, please! Run while you still can!” You screamed, coughing up blood as you crawled towards the fight. Your breathing labored, black ink splotched in your vision. Take me! You thought hopelessly, take me and not him!
“Y/n? Come on, kid, wake up.” You blinked awake. Your entire body ached, drowsiness threatening to take hold of you. Where were you just now? You must’ve passed out from the pain. “Ah, there she is.” A blurry redness kneeled beside you as you blinked until you could see properly. “You’re awake.”
“Master?” You coughed as Rengoku smiled down at you.
“Tough battle, huh? You did great out there kid.” Rengoku said proudly. “You mastered a few of those moves I taught you, it was incredible.” He recounts.
“I-- lost.”
“Hush now. That demon was even tough for me to kill. You did the best you could.” He says reaching for you, ruffling your hair.
“Y-you almost died,” You choked out, Rengoku’s hand paused on your head. “I-- Master I don’t ever want to be a burden to you.”
“You are no such thing.” Rengoku admonishes, giving your cheek a sharp and playfully pinch. You gasp in surprise, rubbing your cheek. “You think too dark sometimes, kid.”
“But-- Master… I’m not worth dying over.” You say, looking down. Rengoku grabs you by the chin.
“You don’t get to decide that. I do. And I decided that you’re worth saving.” He looks at you intensely to get his point across. You part your lips to argue but slowly close them. “Now enough of this, we won, let’s celebrate!”
“What do you mean?” Giyu walks closer to you, his voice has an edge to it. A worried and sharp edge. “Are you unsafe?”
“That’s not…” You trail off, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. “I’m giving you an out.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Mr. Tomioka-”
“Don’t. Please don’t call me that.” Giyu lamented, his expression pained.
“You’d be wise to just move on.”
“I can’t. I won’t”
“You can, you should.” You growled. This reminded you so heavily of the night you stormed out of his house and you two fought in the road. You were pretty sure this was almost the exact same place. You gave an inch that night but you were trying desperately to take it back. No matter how much this hurt it would hurt even more if your curse killed him. You had to remind yourself of that. Of the thing that possessed your life.
“Give me a reason.”
“My past should be reason enough for you.”
“What do you mean? Speak it plainly for me.”
“It’s obvious. I’m fucking cursed, Giyu!” You hadn’t expected it but ever since that night you cried you couldn’t stop. Every little thing made you cry now it was annoying. You cried when you left Giyu in the morning. Cried in your inn. Cried when you arrived back at your empty house, the taste of miso soup and potatoes wrecking your senses. Years and years of it being stored up and the dam broke. You felt like a little kid but there was no way around it. Maybe if you tried being truthful Giyu would leave. “I hid while my family died and because of it I’m cursed. I thought I could move on. Rengoku was like family to me. I let him in. I trusted him. I loved him. I let my guard down and my curse took him. And I-- I won’t let it take you okay so just do me this favor and let whatever you feel for me die.” You forced your eyes to his. Angrily wiped the tears from off your face and looked at him intensely. “I am begging you.” Giyu looked at you, his eyes scanning your face. He walked and walked forwards until he was directly in front of you. His hands reached out, ever so gently sliding over either side of your jaw, his thumbs wiping the tears from your face. Deja vu gripped you so intensely. He’d done this same thing before. He leaned close, so close your breath hitched in anticipation of a kiss. But he stopped, mere centimeters away.
“You are not cursed.” He lets his words sink in. His eyes staring ardently into yours. Your breathing stopped, like you’d forgotten how. That dangerous beat of your heart started up again. There’s something to be said about someone that will tear themselves apart just to keep away from the one thing that could make them happy. You were the biggest component of that. It was like you craved hurting yourself. Craved punishment for crimes you never committed. Giyu pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You didn’t kill your parents and you have to stop blaming yourself for it.” His whispers as you pull back slightly, looking as though you’d been slapped. He knew it. Giyu knew you. You looked away but he forced your attention back to him. “They saved you because they loved you. You were a child. There’s no sin in that.” He presses another kiss to your face. You should back up. You needed to back up. You… you couldn’t. Giyu’s arms slide around you and you're pulled against his chest in a tight hug. “Rengoku didn’t die because he loved you, he died saving a world that had you in it.” There were the damn tears again. You closed your eyes as they sting you. “You don’t get to choose who loves you and it’s unfair to make decisions for them.”
Rengoku’s words rang in your head.
You don’t get to decide that.
“I… I won’t make it if I lose you.”
“Don’t say that. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you, look at me.” Giyu pulls back, you tilt your face up, eyes meeting his. “If you don’t want to lose me then fight for me, stop running, I’m begging you.” You looked up at him. There was no point in trying to build walls, not when Giyu always knew a way around them. You spent a long time in your own head. For once… you decided to let someone else make the calls. If even your most self destructive ways didn’t scare him off then it’s obvious that no matter what you did you couldn’t scare him off.
“Alright.” You intoned softly. The utter hope on Giyu’s face was quick to show. “I’ll stop running.”
“Promise me this time. Promise I won’t wake up and you're gone.”
“I’m sorry. You deserved better.” You breathed out, guilty.
“It’s okay. I forgive you.” He says fondly. You shake your head, eyes rolling.
“You forgive too easily.” Giyu kissed you then. No warning. Just pure want. It was the kiss of someone who’d been counting the seconds you’d been gone. Sickly sweet. Of course he’d forgive you quickly. When he pulled back he pressed his forehead to yours. “Give me your word. That you’ll give us a try.”
“I promise.” You say without hesitation.
Giyu kissed you again, this time slowly, passionately. He tangled his hands in your hair and you melted. He was going to be the death of you. Though you supposed you shouldn’t think that way. You could settle on him being your near death experience then.
-
When the morning dawned and Giyu opened his eyes for a moment his bed felt empty. He rolled his head to the side and when his eyes fell upon you there was nothing in this world that could’ve been a better sight. He reached and softly tucked your hair out of your face. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let his eyes fall back closed, knowing damn well when he woke up again you’d be beside him.
bonus: giyu's letters
-
Dear Y/n,
I hope this letter finds you well. I write to only beg for a moment of your time. If you regret what happened days ago then don't spare me your kindness. I long to know what you think. What you really think.
Please meet me at the training yard in two days time.
Giyu
-
Dear Y/n,
How're you today? I do not wish to bother you, I just need you to know that I care. We can forget whatever you want. I will pretend away the feelings I have if you want. Whatever you want it is yours. Just please write me back.
Giyu
-
Dear Y/n,
I would like to speak plainly for once. I love you. You don't ever have to say it back, I just want you to know. That's all. I will stop bugging you because you do not owe me a thing. I hope you are well. If you need anything don't hesitate to reach out. I can be a friend. I can be whatever you want. Please take care of yourself.
With love, Giyu
-
#fem reader#demon slayer giyuu#demon slayer x reader#giyuu tomioka#giyu x reader#giyu x y/n#giyu x you#giyuu x reader#kny giyuu#kny x reader
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Broke my heart and called me pretty, won me back and called me his - Tyler Owens (smut)
Watched Twisters again and I simply needed to write another Tyler fic. I listened to "Pretty Slowly" by Benson Boone while writing this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Tyler had ended his engagement to the reader years ago, all for her to chase her dreams. But when he turns up as a guest for her lecture, both find themselves thrown back into the love they still feel for one another.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho
Pairing: Tyler Owens x professor!fem!reader (4k words)
“(Y/n)?” Her eyes flickered up from her notes, watching her assistant take a step into her office. With a soft smile playing on her lips, (y/n) waited for Alice to keep on speaking, knowing that she must leave for her upcoming class in a few minutes.
“There’s been a scheduling problem with your guest for today’s lesson, they sent somebody else. He’s waiting outside for you.” For a second, she only stared at Alice, letting the words sink in before her annoyance and anger could clash through her. Organising guests who were willing to speak to her students has always been a struggle, she spent hours on finding the right people and now she couldn’t help but curse them for not giving her an earlier notice.
“Send him in, thank you, Alice.” (Y/n) began to collect her notes as the elderly woman left the room to fetch whoever was waiting outside, buying herself some time to remain calm. Deep breaths left (y/n), fighting through the uneasiness she couldn’t shake.
The sound of boots meeting the ground rang in her ears, and suddenly her body began to tense, freezing on the spot almost. Somehow she could feel him before she saw him, instantly knowing who was about to enter her office even though it had been years since they had last seen one another.
“Would you look at that, I’ve always wondered what your office looks like.” His voice shot shudders down her spine, a reaction she had once been all too familiar with but couldn’t help but curse now. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) let her eyes wander over his features, fuck he was still as handsome as he had been all those years before.
“What are you doing here, Tyler?” Her voice didn’t carry much strength, just enough to draw his wandering eyes back to her. Tyler studied her for a moment, keeping his distance while both seemed to get lost in the draw they had felt ever since their first date, knowing that the other was the one - or at least it had always felt like that.
“Jake gave me a call this morning, told me he couldn’t make it. And since we were in the area anyway, I didn’t mind stepping in.” A scoff clawed through (y/n), followed by the shake of her head. She kept her eyes focused on her things while she rose to her feet, set on getting this over and done with as fast as possible.
“Of course you didn’t mind, the holy saint Tyler Owens just can’t help but present himself at any given chance.” His hand shot out to catch her arm before she could brush past him, forcing (y/n) to stand close to him.
“Hey, I’m doing you a favour here, least you could do is treat me with some respect.” His voice still had that southern drawl to it she had longed to hear for way too long. She had deleted all his socials, hadn’t talked to any of their shared friends, no matter how many times she had longed to do so - even thinking of him hurt still too much.
“Respect? I’m amazed you even know what that word means.” Both looked at one another for a moment, caught up in the memories that still haunted them to this day. Perhaps it could have been different. Perhaps they could have still been together if their path hadn’t been forced to an end years ago.
“I did what was right, you can paint me as the bad guy, but don’t lie to yourself, darling. I did it for you, and I would do it all over again.” She ripped herself out of his grasp and muttered a small “Follow me” before leaving the room. Tears threatened to build in her eyes, forced to remember the day he had broken up with her, weeks after he had asked her to marry him. Deep down she knew that he was speaking the truth, if he hadn’t broken up with her, she wouldn’t have followed her dreams to study overseas to end up where she was now. And yet she hadn’t been able to let go of her hurt to this day.
The sounds of their shoes meeting the cold ground was the only thing that could be heard, nothing but heavy steps that felt like they were moving towards their end once again. Ancient lovers reunited in their last hour on this earth, and with one last chance they were offered to find their way back together. A chance that was now slipping through their fingers.
“Good afternoon.” Her voice boomed through the big room which was filled with students who all instantly stopped speaking. Tyler kept his distance, waiting near the door while studying her every move. This was what he had hoped for all these years ago. For her to end up right here, doing what she had always dreamt of doing.
Parts of him had cursed himself for ending their engagement, but as much as he had wanted to follow her and help her chase her dream with him by her side, he hadn’t been able to leave. He had broken both their hearts with hurtful words spurred on by the anger he had directed at himself and at the circumstances he hadn’t been able to rip himself free from.
“This is Tyler Owens, I’m sure some of you may know his channel. He’ll talk to you about storm chasing today, please bear in mind that you’ll get enough time for questions after his talk.” She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to get lost in the eyes she had always tried to look for in every room. Eyes that had once held their shared secrets. Eyes that had watched her grow into a young woman after meeting when they had been mere teenagers. Eyes that still appeared in her dreams whenever her mind needed a reset from the battles she was currently fighting.
The sound of loud claps filled the room, he moved closer with a smile glued to his lips - a smile that slightly began to drop as she mumbled a quiet “I’ll be in my office” while brushing past him.
……
“Hey,” Tyler’s voice filled her office. A soft sigh left (y/n) as she forced herself to look at him, unable to bite down the hurt that had been clawing at her skin since the second he had first entered her office hours ago. “You missed an interesting class.”
“I,” she cleared her throat while shifting around on her seat. “I watched the stream. You were good, they loved you.”
“Well, what can I say? We have a big fan community.” A soft laugh managed to leave her before she could stop the sound, forcing heat to rise in her system. “Will you grab dinner with me? I think we’ve got some catching up to do.”
She should have said no. She should have kindly told him that she had other plans. But knowing that she’d most likely not see him again for years and years to come felt like a punch to her gut. So all she did was nod her head and grab her purse, ready to leave her office for the day.
No words were spoken between them as he guided her towards his truck, the same one she had seen in his videos. It felt strange being here with him, sitting in the truck that added to this internet persona of his she was a stranger to, barely recognising the man he was now.
“It’s bigger than I expected it to be.” (Y/n) blurted out the words while she looked around the truck, watching Tyler drive them to the spot he seemed to have in mind. The smirk tugging on his lips told her that she had just shared something she shouldn’t have, letting him in on the knowledge that she was watching his videos every now and then.
“I always wondered if you were watching us. They miss you, you know.” Nothing but a hum managed to pass her lips, unable to speak up as her throat grew tighter. It had been years since she had last seen his crew, the people she had once called her friends and had cut off the second she had left home, unable to think of anything that had something to do with Tyler. Years had passed before (y/n) had allowed herself to get back into all things storm chasing, which also meant catching up with Tyler and his work.
“I miss them too.” Her eyes flickered down to his right hand which seemed to move in her direction but before Tyler could touch her, he pulled back again, balling a fist that rested on his thigh. It hurt her more than she had thought to see him like that, seemingly struggling just as much as she did with their newfound distance after all these years. And yet they were still bound together, by something neither could put a finger on.
“Thought we could visit Mary Jane’s, for old times’ sake.” She couldn’t reply, not when one memory after another caught up with her. They had lost count on the amount of times they had chased in that area, grabbing dinner and coffees at Mary Jane’s at any given chance. A bittersweet memory that only worsened the heavy feeling settling on her chest.
After parking the truck, she watched him round the car to help her down, keeping his hand placed on the small of her back for a second too long. It felt as if Tyler had to force himself to let go, to remember that she no longer was his to touch, even though it only felt right to keep close.
“So, tell me, professor. What did I miss? What did you do the last few years? Your mom didn’t tell me much.” Her focus was ripped from the menu at the mention of her mother. She hadn’t told (y/n) anything about being in touch with Tyler, hadn’t dropped his name once. Every now and then (y/n) had wanted to ask about him, knowing that her mother was most likely at least watching his videos, but something had always held her back. Perhaps she had been too scared to hear of stuff she wouldn’t be able to stomach, wondering if he had moved on, if he had found another woman to spend the rest of his life with.
“You’re still in touch with her?” The approaching waitress momentarily distracted them both, taking on their orders while (y/n)’s gaze kept flickering back to Tyler. Seeing him again had made everything more complicated, a distraction she hadn’t needed, but as much as she wanted to run and hide from the past, she also couldn’t stop herself from wanting to ask all these questions burning on the tip of her tongue.
“Well, I call her every Christmas and on her birthday, and she does the same.” An unjustified anger simmered inside of her, drawing a frown onto her features while averting her gaze. It felt unfair that he and her mother had kept in touch, sharing details about their experiences and what they had done over the past years – all while (y/n) had fought so hard for a clean start away from her past. “Hey, look at me, pretty.”
“Don’t call me that, Tyler.” Hurt flashed over his features, a sight that only worsened the pain she felt deep inside of her.
God, what was she even doing here? There was nothing left to say, nothing but a proper goodbye so she could go back to her day and forget the pain she had tried to bury six feet under.
“Listen, (y/n).” Tyler reached for her hand before she could pull away, forcing her to keep her focus on him. “I didn’t do it right back then, should have sat you down and told you everything I feared and worried about. I should have given you the chance to make this decision for yourself. But I don’t regret giving you an out, you deserved to experience every dream, everything you have worked so hard for. Don’t blame me for wanting you to live the best possible life you could dream to live.”
“But what if all of those dreams had lost their meaning without you? What if nothing worked the same way without you by my side?” A tear dripped from her eye before she could try to wipe it away. She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t read what was swimming in his pupils. Nothing but hurt and confusion that made her pull her hand away from his big one. “This was a mistake.”
She pushed herself out of the booth and rushed outside while more tears kept on falling. The shaky exhale leaving her drowned out the sound of Tyler calling for her, catching up with (y/n) before he pulled her against his broad chest. Sobs clawed through her as Tyler’s hand kept stroking up and down her spine, holding her close.
“I got you, darling, I always will.”
……
“Here, do you need anything else?” It had been hours since her breakdown at the diner. Hours that had been filled with a shared dinner, memories that had been whispered about and eventually a drive back to her place. It had already been late by the time they had left Mary Jane’s, leading her to invite Tyler to stay in her guest room for the night.
“I’m alright, thank you, darling.” Tyler shot her a smile before he pulled her in for another hug. With a kiss pressed to her hairline, he eventually let go of her, watching (y/n) leave the room after a few hesitant seconds.
Her heart was racing until she found herself laying restless in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The past hours kept replaying, flashing past her open eyes while wondering if Tyler had managed to fall asleep. Seeing him again had ripped open all old wounds, leaving her confused and torn between too many sensations. For the last years she had tried to move on, had gone on many dates that had led to nothing but a hopeless feeling that she may never get over Tyler and the love she still felt for him. A feeling that had now resurfaced once again.
With an annoyed sigh clawing through her, (y/n) left her bedroom again, freezing in her step as she found Tyler’s frame standing near the window in her living room, staring down on the city. Slowly, she moved closer, wrapping her arms around herself as she came to a halt next to him.
“Couldn’t sleep?” His raspy voice made goosebumps rise on her skin, forcing her to shake her head while trying to keep her focus on the lights. A few seconds of silence passed before Tyler wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her against his side. “I missed you, pretty.”
This time she didn’t comment on it, could only push herself further into his embrace to search for his warmth. Wordlessly Tyler pulled her along to her sofa, plopping down on it before she placed her head on his chest, falling back into a routine that felt too familiar.
“Do you think we would have been married by now if things hadn’t ended?” The question was whispered, rolling off her tongue without giving it much thought. (Y/n) had always wondered about their wedding, how it would have played out, who they would have invited and where it would have taken place.
“Oh, for sure. I wouldn’t have been able to wait much longer before calling you my wife.” His soft chuckle vibrated through both their bodies, drawing a smile onto her lips.
“I was so excited for it. It would have been the best day.” Tyler tightened his grip on her waist while pressing another kiss to her hairline. For a moment, neither of them spoke, keeping quiet as their thoughts began to spiral. She felt his muscles tense beneath her, making her wonder what he was about to speak while the night wrapped its comforting veil around them.
“It can still be the best day.” Her heart skipped a beat, wondering what he meant by that. Her eyes found his, seeing the way he was torn by whatever kept buzzing through his mind. She wasn’t sure what he meant by it, and yet the way he looked at her, filled with something she hadn’t felt in years, left her wondering if he was still talking about the two of them.
“What are you saying, Tyler?” His hand came up to cup her cheek, feeling her warmth pressing against his hand. Seconds of silence blurred by, making both their hearts race while he fought to find the right words.
“I won’t ever be able to love anybody the way I love you, and that will never change. And judging by what you told me, it’s the same for you. Marry me, for real this time.” She pushed herself off his chest, rising to her feet with a teary laugh that was torn between excitement and sadness. (Y/n) stared down at him with her fingers buried in her hair, trying to figure out if this was just a joke fate was playing on her.
“That’s insane, Tyler.” He mimicked her movements to draw her back in, hands resting on her waist.
“You know what they say, pretty, if you feel it, chase it. And I’m so tired of living this life without you by my side.” Her body forced her to move, to close the distance between them with her lips finding his. Electricity buzzed down her spine, forcing her even closer to deepen the kiss. Kissing Tyler had always been an experience to say the least, two magnets that fit together, an explosion of heat and longing, and yet this felt even better than all these years ago. It felt right, more right than anything else.
Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up, forcing her legs to find their way around his waist. Tyler carried her back to her bedroom, letting them rest on her mattress with him hovering over her.
“Do you mean it? Really mean it?” (Y/n) mumbled the question against his lips. His fingers brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, a warm touch that communicated what both felt at that moment, an undying longing that grew stronger with every passing second.
“Marry me, (y/n).” Another laugh clawed through her, a sound that turned into a moan the second his lips found her neck, kissing their way down to her collarbones.
“Alright, I will marry you.” Tyler kissed her again as his hands disappeared beneath her shirt to pull it over her head, exposing her naked frame to his wandering eyes.
“You’re even more gorgeous, fuck. I can’t wait to make you mine again.” Her eyes fluttered close as he tugged on her panties, pushing them down her legs. Tyler’s mouth kissed its way to her aching heat, groaning the second he tasted her again after all these years. With both arms slung around her thighs to keep her close, he ate her out, letting his rough tongue brush through her slit before sucking on her pulsing bundle.
Moans and groans left both, high on the different feelings both were held hostage by. No longer could (y/n) remember if being with Tyler had always felt like that, all she knew was that she never wanted this moment to end. She’d happily be stuck in time like that, forever reunited with the one that had gotten away.
Tyler let his gaze rest on her pleasure-drunken features, trying not to get too eager while his hardening cock begged for her attention. He’d fuck her all through the night and then some more in the morning, having to burn every passing moment into his mind to fight against the fear of waking up in a few hours from a too good to be true dream.
“Tyler,” his name rolled off her tongue, spurring him on to push her over the edge. (Y/n) had her back arched off the comfortable mattress, hands fisting the blanket while her first orgasm clashed through her like a ship hitting the cold ocean ground. She lost control of the moment, could only give room to her sounds the blinding sensation pushed through her.
He kept lapping at her folds, prolonging her orgasm while he couldn’t bite down his proud smirk. Tyler still knew her body like the back of his hand, able to map her out even with both eyes closed as if she had always been his.
“What will it be, darling? What do you want?” Tyler’s voice had grown lower, raspier even while he still lingered between her trembling thighs. He watched her heavily exhale, needing to ground herself before letting her twinkling eyes find his.
“I need you inside of me, now, Tyler.” Without having to ask twice, he followed her command, getting rid of his shirt and his tight boxers before finding his way back to her. He watched her fish for a condom, helping him roll it down his length as both their hands shook from the anticipation and excitement they couldn’t shake.
Somehow it reminded her of her first night with Tyler, the first time he had fucked her in the back of his truck in the middle of nowhere. It had been the best night of her life, or so she had always thought - until today at least.
With his lips pressed against hers, he kept himself close as he pushed into her, slowly. Both groaned at the feeling, no longer used to being connected this intimately. She clung to him with her nails clawed into the soft skin of his back, needing to adjust for a few seconds before a soft “please” managed to leave her.
They weren’t in a rush, weren’t set on chasing a high within a handful of seconds, but it felt too good to have one another back again, set on giving their all to the other. Every thrust hit her swollen spot, every thrust reminded (y/n) of the way Tyler had always managed to make her feel - as if he was the match setting a petrol station ablaze, a heat so strong it could melt her skin right off her body.
Forever his, forever hers, a story so complete, neither could manage to put it into words.
Their bodies met with every faster growing thrust, set on feeling her walls flutter around him while he kissed her breathless. She stared up at him, getting lost in the eyes that were filled with a love so strong, she was sure that neither of them would be able to let go ever again.
“Atta girl, you’re doing so well for me. I got you.” He pressed a kiss to her neck while he deeply exhaled. Both tried to drag out the moment, hoping that they could stay connected for longer, but their bodies had other plans, needing another high while falling off the edge together.
Tyler’s hand found her right thigh, pulling it closer to her body to hit deeper spots that made both groan. She snuck a hand between their bodies to circle her pulsing bundle, desperate for the relief cumming around him would push through her. Encouraging praises and sweet nothings left Tyler, spurring her on to let go before he could.
And then (y/n) came again, high on everything he embraced while another moan left her. Tyler fucked her for a few more moments, chasing his own orgasm before he groaned against her warm skin. The feeling buzzing through them both only grew stronger, keeping them united while they tried to catch their breaths.
“Are we really doing this? This is insane.” Her breathless laugh filled the room, leaving Tyler chuckling while he lifted his head off her chest. He looked at her for a moment, pressed a kiss to her slightly swollen lips and then pulled out of her.
“We are, and I can’t wait to finally call you my wife.”
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The Visitors (Dabi x Reader)
Dabi is in prison and refusing to speak to anyone, even his family. Until you visit him, bringing a surprise bundled in your arms.
Fem Reader. Sex is mentioned but there’s no detailed smut. Divider by @benkeibear
You and Touya were not in love. The two of you just happened to turn to each other occasionally when you were both horny and bored. You were a cook working at the villa for the PLF. He was a villain who showed up sporadically, always seeming to have secrets. But you always went into the kitchen, no matter what hour he showed up, and fixed him something to eat that wouldn’t upset his sensitive stomach. That’s how it started.
Touya didn’t love you. You didn’t love him. But on the night before the huge attack on the hero school, what everyone was cryptically calling “the final battle”, you went to his room.
He turned you away at first. He didn’t want to lose focus. But you’d stood rooted to the spot in his doorway, your eyes glassy as if you were about to cry.
Even you didn’t know where the emotion came from. He was just a guy you slept with sometimes. But your voice sounded small and fragile when you said, “I just have this feeling… that I’ll never see you again after tonight.”
Touya looked at you, met your gaze, and asked, “That would bother you?”
Maybe he was being sarcastic, but you gave him a genuine answer.
“I don’t want you to die.”
He’d looked away from you then, but invited you into his room. You spent the night in his bed, being fucked more gently than usual, and he was gone before you woke up the next morning.
During the battle, you only crossed Touya’s mind once. He didn’t think about the many nights spent thrusting into you, or how your naked body seemed to glow in the moonlight that filtered in through his window. No, the one time you entered his rage-addled thoughts, he only saw your teary face in his doorway.
After the fight was over, after the most grievous of Touya’s injuries had been repaired and he was, basically, left in a similar shape to when he originally joined the League of Villains, he was put in prison.
Several different people tried to talk to him, or rather, get him to talk. A parade of therapists, investigators, psychologists, and other professionals were brought in to speak with Touya, but he wouldn’t utter a word. Even when his mom and his siblings came to see him, he sat in the visitation room, a quirk inhibiting collar around his neck and his arms in cuffs, completely silent. He had nothing to say to them or anyone else. He was simply waiting to die.
Sometimes, lying awake in his cold and empty cell at night, his thoughts would turn to you. He would remember your skin soft and warm against his, your body trembling with pleasure beneath him, your hands in his hair.
And then, inevitably, he would remember your face from that final night together, your quiet voice telling him you didn’t want him to die.
He didn’t know why those words seemed to cling to his consciousness, to haunt him like a phantom. The two of you were never even a couple. He didn’t love you, and you didn’t love him.
… Right?
Many months after his incarceration, after everyone had given up on getting Touya to speak, his youngest brother showed up out of the blue.
“I’ve brought someone to see you,” Shouto told him. “She contacted me a few days ago. I think you’ll want to hear what she has to say.”
With that, Shouto left the room, and someone else stepped in.
Touya’s eyes widened slightly when he saw that you were his visitor. He never imagined you would come to see him. Visiting someone in this prison wasn’t an easy task. But what surprised him even more than your presence was what you carried in your arms.
A bundle of soft pink blankets that quivered with movement.
“Touya,” you said, sitting in a chair across a metal table from him, “they said you haven’t spoken since… the battle. But I had to see you. I had to show you…”
Your voice trailed off as you shifted the tiny bundle and gently pulled the blankets back so that Touya could see the infant in your arms.
His eyes shifted to the baby, then quickly away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her.
“I named her Aoi. She was born two weeks ago,” you told him, desperate for him to say something, to acknowledge you. After several minutes of silence passed, during which Touya wouldn’t even look up, you sighed and started to stand up.
“Is she mine?”
The voice startled you. It had been so long since you’d heard it last. You lowered yourself back into the chair.
“Of course she is. Just look at her.”
Touya’s gaze flicked back to your arms, his eyes finally focusing on the child. That deep red hair, just like his when he was a child, those bright blue eyes… there was no denying her. He knew, without question, that this was his daughter.
His immediate, gut reaction was horror. He’d had zero intentions of becoming a father. He didn’t want to perpetuate the cycle of abuse and hatred his father had inflicted on him.
But once the horror subsided, another emotion took its place. Something strange and nebulous, unfamiliar but warm. He’d never felt this emotion before, so he couldn’t attach a name to it.
He looked you in the face, finally, and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t ever bring her here again,” he said harshly. “This place is dangerous. A guard was killed last week when someone tried to escape. For fuck’s sake, why did they let you bring a baby in here?”
You blinked, surprised by his reaction. “Your brother pulled some strings, I think. He escorted me in.”
Touya sighed. “Okay. Well, don’t bring her back unless Shouto is with you.”
He didn’t know very much about his youngest sibling, but he did know Shouto was strong, and was a hero who would defend a mother and baby with his life.
You smiled with relief. “So you want to see her again? See me again?”
Touya’s face stiffened, just then realizing how transparent he’d been. He shrugged. “If you want to visit, that’s up to you. Don’t blame me if she has nightmares later.”
“Do you want to get a closer look?” you asked him.
He reflexively pulled against the cuffs holding his arms in place behind his back. He could never hold his daughter, not like this. But you stood up and moved around the table separating you from Touya, bringing Aoi close and holding her up to his face.
If the guards saw this, they would tear you out of the room immediately. Touya’s brother must have been keeping them away. Perhaps he was watching from somewhere, just to be safe. But Touya would never hurt Aoi, not intentionally at least. You believed that very strongly.
A tiny hand reached up from the blankets and touched Touya’s face, causing him to flinch. He looked down at the small, chubby face smiling up at him, and was grateful that she was too young to understand that his face wasn’t normal, too young to be afraid of him.
“Touya,” you said gently, not wanting to interrupt the tender moment but needing to say this, “they said if you’ll just talk to someone, if you’ll do the therapy program, you could be released.”
He looked up at you sharply. “Is that why you came? To get me to talk?”
“I came because I don’t want her to grow up without her father. Do you?”
A brief look of hurt passed over his features, so quick you almost missed it, then he drew back against his chair, out of Aoi’s reach. “No, I don’t want that,” he said.
You smiled as you stepped away, toward the door. “Good. Then you’ll do the therapy program?”
Touya rolled his eyes. “Sure. Not that I think it’ll change anything.”
“Thank you, Touya,” you said. “We’ll come see you again soon.”
He didn’t say another word, just watched you leave, carrying his daughter. He sat in the empty room for a few minutes, then took a deep breath before yelling, “If any of you assholes wanna take a crack at my busted brain, come on! I’m all yours!”
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LOCKED IN | ARTHUR FREDERICK
a whole year and it's finally with you! thank you for all your patience and all your lovely messages and comments about this new chaptered fic; i'm so incredibly excited (and incredibly nervous) to share it with you and show you the project i've been working on these last twelve months. i wanted it to be absolutely perfect before you got your hands on it. feedback is always welcomed and my inbox is always open so please, please, please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts on the story. enjoy! <33
- C H A P T E R O N E -
“I’m actually terrified.”
The black car, donned with the FootAsylum logo that had been printed on the back passenger doors, rolled up the gravel driveway and stopped before a modern-looking home hidden deep in the countryside of a place she could tell was hours from home. With her phone being taken away and with nothing to keep her occupied, except picking at her nails nervously or chewing on the inside of her mouth, she couldn’t keep track of the hours she’d been sat in the car… but given the numb bum and the sickly feeling from the rumble of the car and having nothing to eat due to her nerves, she would have guessed her travel time had been, at least, two hours. Studio lights littered around to keep the grounds lit so everyone knew where they were going, the house being illuminated and almost in a spotlight to give it a real studio vibe, and it had finally set in her mind rather quickly that this was her reality for the next two weeks. The nerves that she tried to hide, swallowing back every lump in her throat and ignoring every bad thought that crossed her mind, were slowly coming back to haunt her and her knees couldn’t stop bouncing in the footwell in the back seat.
“This is terrifying.”
Once the car came to a stop at the end of the driveway, she took a moment to herself.
The driver sat in the front, plugging in a destination into his built-in sat-nav that would either be taking him home or back to a building where the producers and the directors of the show were all huddled inside, yet she couldn’t bring herself to be nosey. And as her hand came to clasp around the handle of the backdoor, she could see her hand shuddering with uncertainty. There was no chance she was backing out of this opportunity now; it was the first day and she wanted to prove to people she could do this. That she was worthy of a place in the house. Having been on the Youtube scene for just over 12 months, she never thought her first year would end in her being part of a reality show centred around those with huge followings and a name for themselves and she wanted to show how serious she was about taking any given opportunity in her grasp and enjoying every moment life had to offer her.
Once she saw who she was going to be locked into a home with for two weeks, she did some digging on just who they were, putting a face to a name and googling them in hopes to find their social media accounts. Gaining the basic information and following their Instagrams and subscribing to their Youtube channels so she could scope out everyone as to not seem so clueless once she walked into the house.
So she knew of a few of them.
It was nerve-wrackingly brand-new for her and it was something she never imagined herself doing when she posted her very first Youtube video just a short twelve months ago; being pushed into a house with nine other Youtubers who were practically strangers to her and, in that moment and before she met then, it was something she considered to be almost as bad as a worst nightmare.
The gravel rocks and the tiny stones of the pathway crunched beneath her trainers as she neared where she assumed the front door to the house was. Her eyes scanned across the wooden panelling of the front and she truly felt like an idiot, even more so because of the cameras hidden in every nook and cranny around her that would pick up her dumbfounded moments, as she tried to find a door handle or a doorbell that would somehow get her into the warmth of the house. The black bag on her shoulder which she, and the entire cast of the second season, had been asked to advertise as they walked up the entrance, kept slipping down to her elbow and eventually she gave up adjusting it and just let it swing to and fro as she questioned everything happening before her.
“How the hell do I get in? Is this a challenge or something? I feel like I’m being punked here.”
There was a gentle change in the way the wall was built and she pushed a panel to make the front door more noticeable, revealing the entrance hallway of the place that was going to be her new home for the next fortnight. Light strips coloured with neon green lighting her way, stuck to the walls and almost guided her in the right direction of where everyone else seemed to have congregated, fitting the whole aesthetic and colour theme of how the show was advertised and promoted on the outside world. Lots of monochrome, blacks and whites, with a burst of colour that surrounded her. The heat of the inside immediately hit her as she stepped foot into the hallway and let the door close behind her with a whoosh, shutting by itself once it hit the frame of the doorway. The lights were bright, as opposed to the scenery of the sun setting upon her arrival, and she could hear the chaos of everyone already enjoying themselves and introducing themselves further to each other - and she secretly prayed that she wasn’t the last one to enter the house.
She took the chance to have a quiet glance around at where she was before she made her way into the centre of the house, cautious as she looked around to make sure no one was hiding and ready to jump out and make her jump, because that was the one thing she absolutely hated and she definitely would have held a grudge, mentally planning the next move in an unproposed prank war between herself and the housemates.
“There’s someone coming.”
“Guys, someone’s here!”
“Someone new!”
“Finally!”
“That makes ten of us. I reckon that’s all of us here.”
YN stood still on the spot, taking in the deepest intake of breath to prepare herself before she exhaled slowly through puckered lips, trying to rid herself of the nerves that were sitting low in her stomach and making her feel sick, to keep her heart from racing and thumping rapidly in her chest.
When she was first asked to be one of the housemates for that year, she thought it looked fun and she was always up for trying new things and stepping out of her comfort zone. She was the biggest advocate for telling people, through her Youtube videos, that they should try out new things because they’ll never know how they feel unless they gave it a go. She shook her limbs to rid the nerves making her shake and she rolled her neck, giving herself the quickest pep-talk in her mind, and she took the last few steps from the room she was standing in and into, what she could only guess was, their kitchen and dining area together.
“Hi!”
“Oh my god, hi!”
“Hello!”
She was overwhelmed with the greetings, dropping her plastic FootAsylum bag to the floor and feeling the warm embrace of someone instantly wrapping their arms around her, a sweet and floral smell of someone’s perfume filling her nose as she reciprocated the hug, long hair tickling at her nose. Her eyes darted from face to face, slightly overwhelmed yet the feeling had slowly felt less suffocating and she took the chance to bolden her demeanour. The males taking their time to come forward and introduce themselves yet the females wasted no time in wanting to get to know her, patiently waiting for their time to bring her into a hug and find out more about her.
“I’m Anastasia,” the girl introduced herself and YN introduced herself in response, and she gave YN one final squeeze before pulling away, stepping aside for someone else to take her place. YN had seen Anastasia on her Youtube recommendations, at a time when she started gaining inspiration on how she wanted to run her channel and a long while back when it was just a mere thought, and it was nice to be given the chance to meet her on a more personal level than just what she showed for the cameras and for her vlogs. “It’s so good to finally meet you!”
A short queue-like crowd of eight other people had formed around her and the nerves that had been sitting in her belly had almost disappeared once she realised they were all in the same boat - no one really knew anyone in this place, they were all there to get to know one another and they were all there to fight for the winning place. They were all there for the same reasons, all going through the same thing, feeling the same feelings and experiencing the experience together so it made everything feel much less intimidating.
She hugged everyone around her, introducing herself as they introduced themselves, and they seemed like a truly good bunch of people to spend the next fourteen days with and she was excited to form special friendships with the whole lot of them.
One guy hung behind from the introductions, waiting incredibly patiently, dressed in all black with the sleeves of his hoodie hiding his hands as his fingers played with the hem in a nervous manner. Brown hair upon his head, tousled and messy, and the most engaging brown eyes that didn’t seem to leave her face as he drank in everything about her. Every inch of his face was beautiful looking, sculpted perfectly, with the curve of the tip of his nose looking soft and the stretch of skin across his cheeks looking rosy and pink. She felt a connection to him, she felt easy around him without even knowing his name, and it was a feeling she couldn’t get rid of as if there was something that intrigued her about him that she was desperate to figure out.
“I’m Arthur. ArthurTV,” he grinned, almost hesitating as he went in to give her a hug, but barely resisting when she wrapped her arms around his neck and initiated the greeting between the two of them, forearms resting on his shoulders as her hands joined at the back of his neck, “it’s so lovely to meet you.”
“I’m YN,” she smiled softly to herself, reading off her Youtube name in a similar fashion to how he had introduced himself and he snickered softly as she pulled away from him and broadened the gap between their two bodies, “it’s lovely to meet you, too, Arthur.”
“Did you struggle as much as me to find the entrance to this place? Because I must have looked like a massive tit to the cameras when I walked straight past the entrance and round the corner in hopes I’d find a backdoor or something,” he admitted, a laugh following in suit as she giggled and shook her head, “honestly, I just hope everyone else did the same.”
“It took me ages to find the door. I didn’t walk past it but I just stood there, staring at it, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Thought that if I stared long enough, I’d see into a void and it would just appear,” she admitted and shook her head at how silly she was going to look in the eyes of those watching when it went live over on Youtube, “we can both look like tits together, I guess. Great first impressions to the public and all.”
“I do say that we make quite the perfect pair,” he joked, internally wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear at how corny he must have sounded, except she laughed at his attempt at humour and he swore he felt butterflies in his belly, “come and get to know everyone properly. We think you were the last person to join us now there’s ten of us standing here.”
So she was the last.
She knew it.
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It was Spuddz’s idea.
“Hot Seat! Let’s do Hot Seat.”
And YN couldn’t lie, the volume at which he suggested it had woken her up a little from her daze.
Her eyelids felt really heavy and her eyes were stinging, almost screaming at her to give in to the temptation of snoozing and go to nap, and that was probably due to the lack of sleep she’d gotten the night before her arrival into the house. Because all night, all she could think about was the worst of what was about to happen. In a situation unknown to her, with people she didn’t know well enough, all she could think about was how she’d be an outcast compared to everyone else.
She didn’t want to be the first one to announce her departure from the room, disappearing and missing out on the rest of the evening, just because she needed an hour's shuteye to feel a little more refreshed. But the warmth between the arm of the sofa and having Arthur seated beside her was enough to lull her into a state of complete peace and relaxation, almost completely at ease with everyone, listening to everything that was happening around her and chiming in with her own questions whenever she was prompted with something when they spoke about something that piqued her interest in the matter.
Arthur had been her saviour in the first few hours of being in the Locked In house.
She hadn’t been glued to his hip for the entirety of the evening… although she thought she had been. Since their first hello’s were shared just a few hours prior, she felt magnetised towards him. She wasn’t sure what it was about him but she felt like she could be herself around him… maybe it was because he had taken time to greet her and introduce himself, maybe it was because they had common traits that made them feel comfortable with each other, maybe it was because she found him attractive and wanted to get to know him more. She couldn’t put her finger on anything definite but he made her feel a sense of confidence within herself. Like she could do anything that FootAsylum threw at her.
She had taken time to pop over to the girls of the house and have a chat with them so she could understand who they were and what their personalities were like. And she had been indulged in a joke war with SomeJokeman when he broke their awkward silence by cracking out a ‘Knock Knock’ joke for her to answer. But she always found herself always gravitating back towards the brown-haired, brown-eyed man who kept himself to himself and let others involve him rather than forcing himself in conversations happening around him. He was the one who had shown her around the house, the one who let her know what bed was free and who had claimed certain spots to be theirs and he was the one who let her take in the surroundings on her own accord.
The late afternoon hours had passed by, although they had no idea on what the time was, and it felt like they’d known each other for longer than a mere few hours. Where everyone was bouncing off questions and getting to know one another in a setting that was getting quite loud and confusing, the suggestion of getting to know one another at the pace of one at a time was something they could all agree upon.
“We’re gonna put Jamie in the hot seat first,” Spuddz informed, letting the lad stand up from his place on the sofa and in front of everyone, “please, young man, state your name for the audience.”
“My name’s Jamie, otherwise known as LDN Movements,” he started off, clapping his hands and clasping them together in front of him in a nervous way, “is this how we do this? You ask me questions and I just answer them?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Spuddz nodded, “like an interrogation.”
And it began from there.
Question after question came out, and she couldn’t fault him and everyone else with how they dealt with the quickfire questions being thrown at them from all areas of the lounge room. Answering with detail and speaking with gusto and enthusiasm as they all took the chance to get to know one another; finding out what they were like as a person, what their Youtube careers was based upon, what they did when they weren’t filming and what their hobbies and passions in life were.
“YN! Our last little newcomer,” Steph grinned at her from the sofa on the right, wiggling her fingers in an attempt to get her to stand to her feet and take her place before everyone, “it’s your turn, darling.”
She sighed in feigned dramatics, rolling her head back against the sofa before smirking and standing to her feet, much to Arthur’s dismay as he felt the cold air take over where her warmth had once been.
“I’m YN, as you already know,” she smiled, drawing out a long curtsey before everyone, “I don’t really do very much, to be honest. I started out on Instagram, gained myself a good following of young people who were interested in reviews of different daily products and skincare routines and such, and I went from there. I’m a lifestyle Youtuber, I guess. Moved my content into a much longer form instead of small Instagram videos and stories.”
“What is a ‘lifestyle Youtuber’?” Johnny asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on the palms of his hands, “I’ve never really heard of that.”
“I basically just vlog about my life? I don’t know how to explain it,” she felt her cheeks getting hot under Johnny’s gaze and she stared at the floor beneath the lightened oak coffee table in the centre of the room, “I film bits of my day, what I do, I never understand why people enjoy watching videos about my life but… they got me here. Which, of course, I’m so thankful for. So many opportunities have come my way since then and it’s all because of them.”
When she posted her first video, a ‘get to know me’ post that consisted of a compilation of frequently asked questions from her Instagram page that people wanted to know about her, she had no idea that she would be where she is now. A video where she opened up and shared more about herself and her personal life - from the quick and easy questions about her relationship status and her family life and where she grew up and what she studied in school to what she wants out of life and where she sees herself in five years time and what she thinks is the biggest issue in the world as we know it - had gotten her onto a pedestaled platform where, for the year, she had been able to share her tips and her tricks in how to get by in certain scenarios.
She vlogged her daily life, from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she laid her head down on her pillow at night, and people loved to see what she got up to. Her friends became constant guests in her videos, partaking in small challenges and Q and A’s that were topical to whoever she had on screen, and her fans loved to see her in her social group where she let her true enjoyment and her true self be seen.
She loved what she did.
She was lucky to be where she was.
She had a supportive following who loved her, supported her, made sure to help boost her name into the general public and she repaid them back by giving them back the amount of love that they gave to her.
And she wouldn’t change any of it for the world.
“Here, here,” Jamie cheered, “very lucky to have people watch us and support whatever we choose to do.”
“I don’t think any of us would be here,” YN pointed to the exact spot she was standing in with both of her pointer fingers, “without our subscribers and our followers. I thank my lucky stars every single day that I am where I am.”
Steph cooed softly at the words YN let slip off her tongue and she suddenly felt very open and vulnerable.
“Do you just post videos about a day in your life? Do you do challenge videos or react videos or anything like that?” Arthur asked, also following in suit of Johnny and leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees and cupping his own face with his palms and as similarly as they were sat, she could look into Arthur’s eyes and speak to him, “do you just do reviews or?”
“I just do reviews, yeah. I don’t really focus much on the internet world and celebrities but more the real world and I just have a chat with the camera as if I was talking to my followers personally. I talk about topics people are chatting about all the time, what people comment about, and what’s trending. Whenever I get asked to do advertisements and such, I review different make-up products, skin care products, I show off my bedtime routine and my make-up routine and what products I use for skincare. I get sent clothes from various brands and do mini hauls, in the summer and the winter, on what I like and what suits me and what I would wear for specific occasions,” she grinned softly, “I should get you guys on. I think I could definitely use Arthur as a dummy to test out different make-up looks.”
Arthur blushed and shook his head, cackling softly, “I think you’re the more beautiful one out of us. You don’t need me to ruin it.”
“Arthur has rizz, you know!” Jokeman bellowed from beside him, clapping him on the shoulder as he blushed in his seat, “this is like a dating show, I’m telling you. Watch this space! Locked In is the new Love Island.”
There’s a chime that brings the conversation to a halt, saving Arthur from any more embarrassment from what the others had to tease him about, with the screen lighting up on the wall with an announcement, in the form of a tweet from Twitter, appearing on the screen.
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From the moment she arrived, YN had been craving a bed.
As soon as her head hit the plush cushion at the height of the bed, her slippers having been kicked off at the side and her pillows plumped up so she could sleep a little more upright, she could feel her eyes getting heavier and heavier as she got more and more comfortable. Watching as everyone else readied themselves for bed, with make-up free faces and blankets wrapped around their shoulders, dressed in the comfiest of clothing as they went about their nightly routine. Teeth being brushed, faces being washed, clambering into bed before the lights went out.
To one side of her, she had Anastasia.
To the other side, she had Arthur.
A grin on his lips as he made eye contact with her from beneath the duvet that was pulled up to his chest, hair tousled and his fringe sticking to his slightly damp forehead from where he’d washed his face, cheeks red from where he had scrubbed his skin with a cleansing wash. Her cheeks flushing red once she realised he was looking at her and she giggled softly and shook her head at him, pulling her own duvet to her chin and nestling a little further down on the mattress.
A grin on his lips as he made eye contact with her from beneath the duvet that was pulled up to his chest, hair tousled and his fringe sticking to his slightly damp forehead from where he’d washed his face, cheeks red from where he had scrubbed his skin with a cleansing wash. Her cheeks flushing red once she realised he was looking at her and she giggled softly and shook her head at him, pulling her own duvet to her chin and nestling a little further down on the mattress.
“It was good meeting you, YN.”
“You say that like we’re gonna be apart forever after we close our eyes. Like we’re just gonna die and never wake up,” she snorted, rolling onto her side to face him better, “sucks for you that you’re gonna be stuck with me in here for the next two weeks.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad to me,” he hummed, closing his eyes and pretending to fall asleep, leaving her in a slight state of shock as she took in what he had said so nonchalantly.
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soul bounds intertwined
Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader
Part I, Part II
Word count: 5,864
Warnings: Ghosting, public confrontation and fighting, Billy being an idiot. 18+ content, degrading, pet names, magic strap that Wanda can feel as if it's real, blowjob (W. receiving), oral (R. Receiving), strap-on usage (R. receiving), taking Polaroid pictures while doing it, slapping, overstimulation, fingering, squirting aftercare.
Taglist: @alexawynters @ageofolsen @imjustvibingsworld @huggingkoalas @unadulteratedballoonduck @megsheather @kimiisims-blog @morganismspam23 @reginassweetheart @vyvvycg @cindyangelicss @newyork1432 @imaginaryblogger01 @sleepless-cloudy @starryskiesandboys
A/N: This is it. I cannot begin to express how unbelievably happy it makes me to see all the love you gave to this trilogy 🥹 I also had a good laugh as I read the frustrated reblogs on part II MWAHAHA!!! Hope you like this last one part. Thank you 3000 once again. 💓
Following the incidents at the Maximoff residence, you thought that Wanda had completely cut you out of her life. However, a few months later, she reached out to you, pulling you into a situation that would lead to unforeseen twists and turns.
You couldn't recall the last time you ran as if your life depended on it.
Your best guess was when you accidentally set the treadmill to 24 kilometers per hour, and while you were figuring out where the button to slow down was, you had to keep that pace so as not to fall.
However, the adrenaline that coursed through your veins the instant Wanda laid her hands and lips on you for the first time, followed by her command for you to leave, was so inmense that it was no wonder your body mistook it for danger, screaming for you to escape immediately.
And you obeyed, running to your car as if Wanda was chasing you with a knife, determined to snatch your destiny and your future in a matter of seconds, when in reality, she remained static. She didn't move an inch from where she left you, but her gaze haunted you all the way home.
You could still feel it piercing right at the back of your mind, causing this sensation to send unconscious impulses to your body, such as occasionally checking the backseat through the rearview mirror, when you knew there was no one but you in the car.
You scarcely noticed when you arrived at your apartment or when you collapsed onto your bed. Your mind was too tangled in a whirlwind of confusion and shock to be mindful of your own actions.
What did this mean for you and Wanda? Was there any way to turn back from this? Questions raced through your mind, but one fact stood amongst all of those uncertainties: things would never be the same again.
Three long months where your mind pirouetted through endless what-ifs.
What if you had turned down Billy's advances from the start? What if you had been more discreet about taking those photographs? What if you had never blurted out the confession Wanda had forced from you? What if you had stayed, on your knees, begging for her forgiveness, instead of running away as though your feelings were a crime?
Despite your mind's endless wanderings, your thoughts unavoidably drifted back to the same place; her lips on yours, like a forbidden fruit that was worth all of your sinning.
Oh, how intoxicatingly wet they felt, how expertly her tongue and hands managed to cast a spell of desire that tormented your very existense, driving you to a fervor that dangerously danced on the edge of madness.
And so you made Herculean efforts with words, devoting at least two hours each week to finding new ways to let Wanda know that you never intended for this situation to escalate like it did, yet none succeeded reaching to her distant heart.
It was painfully clear that just one response from her could end this torment, yet she played a cruel game of a calculated and well-deserved revenge.
She didn't block you. That would have been a closure, a clear statement she wanted nothing more to do with you. Instead, she left you on read immediately, ensuring there was no doubt she was ignoring you. She left you hanging on a thread of false hope, teasing you with the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it'll be different next time.
Her behavior was akin to that of a prepotent God, relishing in the power to decide whether to answer the prayers of her humble believers or subject them to the agony of her indifference.
It took you long enough to realize you wouldn't have any of it anymore. You dared to test the predictability of her cruel game, refusing to give her power over you any longer.
Fortunately for you, in the third month since you last saw her —from which a month and a half you spent without writing to her— you received a call from her.
You let it go to voicemail twice, so as not to seem too eager to hear from her, and finally called her back the next day.
"Oh, so fast you were answering my calls before, and now you want to play hard?" Was the first thing she said to you.
You rolled your eyes.
How dare she protest for it when she had you drifting and yearning for so long?
"What do you need?" You asked in as neutral a tone as possible. You weren't going to answer in annoyance, or it would mean you were still affected by this whole situation.
"You're going to show up at the meeting Tony Stark organized, at the Avengers Compound, remember it was a pending thing?" It wasn't a request, it was an order. "This time, I'm bringing the boys, and you're going to tell Billy everything. Everything, (Y/N)."
You scoffed, both indignant and surprised. The latter due to the fact that Wanda might not have told Billy about what had happened.
"You never told him yourself?" You inquired, curiosity getting the better of you.
"I don't have the heart to tell him," she replied. "But I suppose you do, since you had the heart to do what you did."
You were going to justify yourself immediately, but stopped midtracks. You weren't going to sound like a broken record, repeating the same old story to her again.
"And if I refuse?" You challenged her.
"I can ruin things for you beyond repair," Wanda responded confidently. "Your career, your reputation, you name it. Don't underestimate what I'm capable of when pushed."
Her words cut through any defiance you might have felt, leaving you defeated and humiliated, just like that night.
Maybe it was abuse of power, but you brought this upon yourself, and she just wanted to make sure you paid for hurting someone she loved. You would have done the same, and you adored her even more for that.
At your silence, she added, "And bring all the photographs you took of me. I don't want to give you the pleasure of having a single trace of me after this."
And that's how you ended up at the Avengers Compound, Upstate New York.
If your nerves weren't consuming your stomach like a potent acid burner, you would have appreciated much more the fresh air outside the building, and how silence finally prevailed in your surroundings, the hectic sounds of the crowded city now long gone.
"Ready?" Kate asked, looking at you with a sheepish, concerned look once she pulled the handbrake.
"Yeah," you replied amidst a deep breath that you didn’t even know for how long you’ve been holding.
While you both stepped out of Kate’s car, the weight of your hand purse almost pulled you back into the seat, knowing that two things in there held the delicate fate of your relationship with Wanda and of your career.
It contained your lipstick, your phone, and all the photographs, along with a letter that would be a last attempt to clear things up.
At the front door, a female voice through a screen asked for your name and Kate's, and once it was given, she replied: "You're on the list. Welcome, (Y/N) and Kate."
You held your hand purse tightly, as you walked to the elevator and Kate pressed the floor's button. The only audible sound on the way upstairs was the click of your heel anxiously tapping against the floor, and your heavy breathing.
"Easy, you find Billy, tell him, 'Hey, I liked your mom all this time, you just were delusional,' give the pictures and letter to Wanda, take my car, and get out," Kate tried to cheer you up, making it sound as simple as she was telling it, when to you, it was a life-or-death feat.
You laughed more out of commitment than anything else.
There was no point in contradicting her words if the elevator opened within two seconds of her finishing her sentence.
You spotted Wanda almost immediately.
She was standing near the entrance, her posture rigid, and her eyes immediately fixed on you with an intensity that could burn a hole right through you and all the walls of the building together. The way she looked at you so quickly revealed that she was watching the elevator every time it opened, waiting for you.
Kate patted you on the back, and headed off to where Yelena would be.
Lucky her, she would spend the night with her girlfriend, while you were anticipating to drown in your own tears before falling asleep, knowing that you had ruined any chance with the first person who had set a warming fire in your heart, now a conflagration of despair and yearning.
With every step you took her way, your legs felt like they might give out beneath you, but you forced yourself to keep moving, closing the distance between you and Wanda.
"Wanda", you greeted her and nodded in acknowledgement of the person she was talking to. You recognized him immediately from the old pictures rummaging online of Wanda and her ex-partner. Despite his imposing figure, he was just a blurry silhouette that you didn't bother to focus on until you had him in front of you. "Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N).”
"Ah, (Y/N)," he exclaimed with a smile. "I'm Vision, Tommy and Billy's father. I'm pleased you could make it. The boys are over there at the middle table."
"That's a good idea," Wanda said. "Why don't you go with Billy? I'm sure you have a lot to discuss."
You tried to resist rolling your eyes at her sarcastic statement.
"I would prefer to speak with you first," you replied, failing to maintain eye contact with her, still appearing like a nervous lamb.
"I will consider it, after you do what I asked," she replied, turning her attention back to Vision as a way to cut conversation. The latter appeared perplexed, but perhaps Wanda would prefer to avoid the situation or lie about it, which you thanked.
Your steps towards Billy's table felt lighter, which indicated that you were far more concerned about exchanging a simple greeting with Wanda than you were about confessing to Billy that your feelings were for his mother and not him. Once again, it was evident that you cared about her more than you ever did for Billy.
"(Y/N)! Hey!" Billy greeted you with a smile, moving quickly to embrace you. "Oh, I missed you so much. What happened? My mom said you and her had an argument, but never specified why, and always gets pissed off when I ask her."
You reciprocated the embrace, unconsciously offering an apology in advance for what were going to be your next words.
"Hi," you replied, giving him a light touch on the back. “Uhm, that’s true, actually, that’s why I’m—"
"Hi, you," Tommy approached you before you could reply, and offered you a less invasive hug than his brother’s. "You know? I recently saw the infamous Kate Bishop,” he chuckled.
You joined him in laughter, appreciating his presence as a source of comfort. This brief conversation felt like a stop to the train of thought that was threatening to run over you.
"If you would like, I can arrange an introduction," you offered him, shrugging briefly. "Not with that intention, of course, but you would gain a friend. A great one."
"I'm game for new friends, always," he agreed, taking a sip of his beverage. You proceeded to walk with Tommy following you, and you noticed that Billy was completely ignored by both of you, being left behind sitting at the table by himself.
What if, during the lively twenty-minute conversation between you, Tommy, Kate, and Yelena, you had taken just half a minute to ask him to join? Everything would have been different.
"Excuse me," your smile faded and your voice trembled when your gaze fell on Billy. He had the letter in his hands and all the photographs scattered all over the table.
You had left your hand purse on there, and it was inevitable that Billy would be so curious to look through it.
A lump formed in your throat as you watched helplessly as he examined the contents of the letter with increasing astonishment.
Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest when you realized that he had discovered your deepest secret, and you no longer had a chance to find a way to reveal it in the less hurtful way that could ever occur to you. That possibility slipped like sand through your fingers.
You rushed towards the table. Every step you took felt like torture. As if you were running a ten-kilometer marathon instead of crossing a few metres.
“Billy…” you breathed, a whisper so barely audible that you hoped it would vanish in the air before the inevitable storm swept through.
His fingers trembled on the vertical edges of the piece of paper, now mostly crumbled by the force with which he held it.
Billy Maximoff had always lived in the shadow of his mother’s fame and his twin brother's effortless charm. In that dim corner, he was often overlooked.
Therefore, when he saw your letter, where you expressed regret for using Billy to reach his mother, but admitted you felt no remorse for how her lips had kissed yours with such fervor that night after the bonfire, it struck him like a frigid, merciless wave crashing over him, leaving him breathless and reeling.
A guttural, angry growl erupted from his throat, resonating with such intensity that it caught the attention of everyone present, including Wanda.
Subsequently, he threw the photographs all over the floor, scattering them like autumn leaves blown by a tempest.
His eyes, once filled with affection, now burned with betrayal as they landed on you. However, what caused an icy tendril of fear to coil around your stomach was those sacred photographs, completely exposed for others to see.
You took a step to retrieve the photographs, but a firm hand clasped around your arm, making you gasp in protest, but overall, disbelief. His grip was a desperate, silent warning for you to confront the shattered trust before you, instead of safeguarding your own dignity.
"How could you do this to me?" He questioned. He breathed heavily, each choppy exhale escaping through trembling lips. His brows furrowed in anguish, adorned the torment in his glassy eyes.
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. All you could do was stand there, frozen, as now Billy's eyes were just one of the many pairs that fixated on you.
"Answer me!" Billy’s voice echoed through the room.
"I'm so sorry, Billy," you whispered, but the words felt shallow and inadequate.
Wanda's eyes bore into you from across the room, her expression unreadable, yet you knew she was waiting for the fallout.
Billy shook his head, as he laughed sarcastically.
“’Sorry’? Really?” His voice climbed in pitch, raw with fury. “You used me. You lied to me. And for what? To get close to my mom? MY MOM! HOW FUCKING SICK IS THAT?”
You turned around, your gaze sweeping over the room, and the collective shock on everyone’s faces nearly made you crumble right there.
But before you could fully grasp the gravity of their reactions, Billy grabbed your face with a tight grip, and pulled you closer, forcing you to look back at him, demanding your full attention.
“Look at me,” he rasped, his voice breaking with pain. “This is about the pain you caused me, not them.”
Kate, who had been watching every moment with a readiness to intervene and protect you if necessary, rushed to you both in alarm as soon as Billy’s hands gripped your face so violently.
With a sudden, forceful motion, she wrenched Billy’s hands away from you.
“You're fucking done, you hear me, asshole?” Kate hissed, towering over him as she created a protective barrier between you and Billy.
The latter whimpered in pain, a sound that spurred Wanda into action, her own distress evident as she rushed forward.
“That's enough!” Wanda exclaimed, a red wisp of magic surrounding Kate's hand and Billy's wrist in order to prevent her to cause him more pain. In consequence, Kate clenched her jaw in defeat, for she knew better than to defy someone as powerful as Wanda Maximoff.
You didn’t even notice when Natasha Romanoff appeared at your side, wrapping her arm around you with a firm, yet gentle hold.
“You’ve explained yourself,” the redhead said softly, her voice felt like the calm amidst the storm. “Let him handle the truth on his own. Let’s go…”
You were about to comply, the pull of Natasha's presence giving you the courage to leave everything behind for good.
But Billy’s last, scathing remark stopped you in your tracks.
“Oh, great! So now Mommy’s going to fix everything for me?” He snapped. “Isn’t that just perfect? Always stepping in to save the day while I get to deal with the mess you made!”
Her eyes widened in a heart-shattering mixture of confusion and sorrow. Her features altogether conformed what could be best described as the ultimate portrait of devastation.
No wonder. The sole purpose of forcing you to confess your mistakes to Billy was so you could face the consequences, and leavr you with a heavy conscience, never once imagining that she would be cast as a villain in her own son’s eyes.
And even though Wanda blatantly defended her son against your best friend —who was, in turn, protecting you from Billy’s wrath—, you couldn’t fight against the sympathy at such a heartache.
"Billy, I consider you a very dear friend, and I never meant to hurt you," you spoke up, stepping next to Wanda, implicitly offering her your inconditional support. “But my feelings for Wanda... they were never meant to deceive or harm you. I understand if you can't forgive me, but please know that it’s not her fault.”
"I think it's best if we all take a moment to breathe," Vision interjected calmly, stepping forward. "Emotions are high right now, and we need clarity to understand each other." His calm voice stood out against the atmosphere around you.
You knew that he and Wanda had drifted apart due to the demands of their lives; his Avenger missions and her career had led them in different directions. Their breakup was friendly, a mutual recognition that their paths no longer matched. Still, it was impressive how Vision maintained his composure, given the situation's nature.
Wanda nodded in agreement.
"Billy, let's talk privately. This isn't something we should handle in front of everyone."
“Oh, yes, that’s because you don’t want your superhero friends to know how you kissed (Y/N) right after I went to sleep that night, isn't that right?” He scoffed.
Although you didn't turn to check everyone's reaction, you could perfectly picture the shock once more evident on their faces, now at the possibility that maybe Wanda felt the same.
But unlike last time, where everyone decided to remain silent and play dumb, Tony spoke up from the table, “So what, kid? Good for them, now move the fuck on,” he groaned, his voice dripping with irritation that his friendly reunion had turned into a whole drama show.
“I did it to force her to confess,” Wanda justified. “And to punish her for hurting you.”
Billy’s gaze was skeptical, as he raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t feel anything when you did that.”
Wanda’s resolve fell apart at that very question. Her eyes flickered away from his intense stare, enough to confirm what Billy had feared all along.
You were overpowered by a bliss so intense it seemed to permeate every fiber of your being, immediately making you forget the pain and despair that took place these last months.
“See?” Billy’s voice rose. “I wanted a chance to be happy, to be seen for once, and you took that away from me," he choked out, his voice breaking.
“Oh, Billy, I can’t take away what you didn’t have in the first place,” she scoffed. Her sadness was now replaced by a fierce anger.
She always felt exasperated at how her son had consistently drowned himself in self-pity, ever since he made the decision to age-skip. This wasn't the first time he manipulated every situation to fit his narrative. And this was the last straw for her.
“Ohhh, you think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you?” He spat, stepping close to her. “DON'T YOU?” And in a sudden outburst, Billy shoved Wanda with a force that sent her crashing to the floor.
The room gasped collectively at his gesture, and that was when everyone decided to take action instead of just being mere expectants.
You dropped to your knees, feeling both worried and enraged. The intensity of your indignation seemed to be making the ground beneath you tremble.
How could Billy not recognize the suffering he was causing to his own mother? Why was his need for validation bigger than his capacity to rationalize?
Tommy Maximoff: Yelena and I watched everything escalate so quickly, and we agreed not to get involved if we didn't have to. My father, Natasha and Kate were alert, and my mother has dealt with a thousand times worse than some whiny college boy (pauses) but seeing how that idiot pushed my mother, and wanted to degrade her like that?! All of a sudden, my fist collided with his face.
Tony Stark: Looking back, maybe this whole scene could have made a good dramatic painting (chuckles). I mean... Yelena, Kate, Natasha and this photographer girl giving moral support to Wanda at a table in the corner, while she allowed her son to get his comeuppance for being such a brat. Meanwhile, Tommy hitting Billy so hard it took Vision, Clint and I to separate them.
Tommy Maximoff: Even I'm shocked at the fact that it took my father, Hawkeye, and Iron Man to separate me from him. I guess I had a lot of pent up anger, and that moment was my breaking point.
Wanda Maximoff: Why did I allow it? The answer is simple; I gave up and even made the person I loved suffer in order to give my son his place. And what did he do? He made showed me in every way possible that I was a disgrace to him for the simple fact of having given birth to him. Well, if that's the case, good riddance.
Pepper Potts: Oh, what I'm missing by accompanying Peter (Parker) to a debate in Germany (laughs).
Vision: After the incident, Billy has not contacted us again. He thinks he's an outlaw, and we'll give him the benefit of the doubt. I'll just say that at least he is managing to make a name out of himself like he so badly wanted.
(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I hope he's going to therapy!
Wanda Maximoff: What did (Y/N) and I do after it all ended? We went to my room, at the Compound, and… I’ll keep the rest to myself.
"Please, I'll be a good girl," you whimpered, looking up at her with trembling lips and pleading eyes.
She had you kneeling between her legs as she sat on the edge of her bed. You couldn't handle all the torturing teasing she was putting you through, as she smacked her faux cock against your lips, and every time you tried to welcome it into your mouth, she pulled it back, only to repeat the process again.
"Oh, you already are," Wanda breathed, leaning very close to your lips that you could feel the lingering smell of wine on her breath. "But Mommy wants more than just a good girl. She wants a naughty little slut who does anything to please her.”
Before you could moan in response at the nickname she gave herself, she attacked your mouth in an aggressive kiss. At this point, your jaw was sore from so much movement and your lips were swollen, but you wouldn't have it any other way. You had found home on her lips once and you were finally back.
"I’ll make you feel good, I promise, just let me," you pleaded, your mouth watering due all the panting from the anticipation.
She gave in to the sight of those puppy eyes, swollen lips, and that upper body covered in hickies. Soon enough, she gently guided your head towards her strap, her hands resting on either side of your head.
“Suck on me. Show me what you're made of.”
Her breathing quickened as your mouth worked its way down her cock. Her hips began to rock, seeking more contact. It was evident that with very little stimulation, she let her guard down, no longer caring to hide how weak she truly was for you.
You gagged at the intrusion but took it as best as you could, even though your eyes were beginning to water.
Just like the merciless woman she has demonstrated you she was, far from going easy on you, she gripped the back of your head, holding you in place.
Perhaps it was because it had been an incredibly long time since she had allowed herself to attend to her carnal needs, or perhaps it was because she found herself utterly and irresistibly attracted to you, or maybe it was a combination of both.
Whatever the reason, the coil forming on her stomach overwhelmed her, and before she could even notice, the intense wave of pleasure caused her to spurt her hot cum into your mouth, leaving her breathless and trembling.
"Oh fuck," she groaned, riding herself out of her orgasm, giving you little to no participation. Simply using you as a face to get off to.
You did your best to swallow every single drop she gave you, however a few drops trailed on your chin, and a little bit down on your neck.
Wanda grinned in satisfaction as she looked down at you.
None of your partners or hookups have ever taken the time to simply gaze down at you with anything more than burning desire. They always seemed to be in a rush, their eyes filled with nothing but lust and impatience.
Wanda was different nevertheless. She seemed genuinely proud, filled with a warmth and admiration that made you feel truly seen and appreciated for the very first time.
"Good girl," she said, reaching out to wipe her cum off with her thumb. She then stuck it into your mouth, and watched you suck it clean. “And you know what good girls deserve after such a delicious treat?"
"What, Mommy?" You asked excitedly.
"Their reward," Wanda purred, leaning down to kiss you passionately while her fingers trailed down your neck, and gripped it gently. "My little cum-slut deserves some good fucking.”
Wanda gave a quick beckon, motioning for you to get on your feet. You had barely stood up completely, when she gripped your hips tightly with her strong hands and forced you under her. Her superhuman force made you so featherlight in comparison to her, allowing her to have complete control over your movements, leaving no doubt about who was in charge in that moment.
The tip of her cock gently brushed against your entrance making you both shiver at the mere thought of what was about to happen.
She slowly thrust her hips forward, slowly penetrating you with her strap.
You shut your eyes tight in response, gasping at how exquisite but painful it was to have your tiny hole stuffed by her massive cock.
"There, you're doing well, baby,'" she said, caressing your cheek as a display of encouragement. “Do you need to stop?” She asked attentively.
You shook your head in refusal, choosing instead to grasp her shoulders firmly, seeking something to anchor yourself to. The harshness of your touch brought a smile to her face, lighting up her eyes with a spark of joy at your silent approval.
She slowly picked up the pace, thrusting deeper and harder into you.
The slapping of your bodies, the headboard clashing against the wall, and your mutual panting and moaning were the only sounds echoing through Wanda’s spacious room at the compound.
Your eyes squeezed shut, a chaotic blend of screams and moans escaping your lips as you dangerously hung on the edge of tears.
She looked down at you, a satisfied smile playing on her lips, her eyes shimmering with delight as you writhed beneath her.
"That's it," her hips slammed against yours with a fierce intensity. In response, she could feel your nails digging into her back, leaving angry red marks that would soon blossom into bleeding scratches.
"Fuck... FUCK! I'm gonna cum! I need to cum," you screamed, not fighting against the tears any longer.
"Cum for me, darling," she accentuated each worth with a single thrust. One of her hands reached between your legs, roughly massaging your clit with her thumb, determined to tear you apart through every single nerve ending that could occur to her.
You screamed loudly, your walls squeezing her cock as you came hard. She could feel your juices flowing down her bedsheets, coating them in a warm sheen. Her seed didn't take much longer to fill you up, pushing against you as it spilled into every crevice of your pussy.
As her orgasm subsided, Wanda slowly pulled out of you, her dick slipping wetly from your hole.
"Fuck, I wish you could see yourself right now," she whispered, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Just then, an idea sparked in her mind. "Stay right there," she commanded, climbing off you.
You watched, breathless, as she stood up, her strap glistening and even dripping with both of your releases.
She opened a drawer and retrieved a Polaroid camera.
"What? You're not the only one who owns one,” she stated, a playful smirk on her lips as she gauged at your surprised expression.
She lay on her stomach, the camera positioned between your pussy and her face. With a playful grin, she snapped a picture, capturing the sight of your hole still dripping with your shared juices. The blinding flash it possessed would illuminate every detail and highlight the intensity of what you both had just experienced.
She slid a single finger inside you, provoking your walls to swallow her without hesitation once more, making you arch your back in response to the pleasure coursing through you.
She couldn't resist taking another picture, the mesmerizing sight too beautiful to pass up.
She growled in desperate need, setting the camera aside as she flipped you on all fours, her eyes glinting with desire as she admired the view you presented. She as well switched her position, this time beneath you, guiding you to lower yourself onto her face.
As you settled in, she slipped two fingers inside you, curling them in a come-hither motion that provoked you to grip her hair desperately, the headboard being too far away for you to hold onto it.
However, she continued her ministrations, seemingly unbothered and even excited by your aggressive treatment.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you weren't even able to make a single sound as your breath cut down in your throat. You felt a tightness in your chest, and each second seemed to stretch into an eternity. All you could focus on was the intense feeling restricting your ability to breathe.
"S-s-stop! STOP!" She knew from your irregular breath and whimpering what was about to happen.
She would happily embrace whatever reaction you would have. However she wanted to teach you that you didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about, not through reassuring words but through desperation.
Therefore, she slowed down her fingers, upom hearing your warning. She took her fingers out of you, pulling her hand out and slapping your ass.
“Are you sure, baby?” She asked.
"Fuck... no," you exclaimed, the feeling of your walls clenching at the lack of her fingers was too unbearable to handle.
She chuckled and moved back to your entrance, finger fucking you senseless with a slow but hard pace.
To her dislike, she eventually noticed that you were holding back again, and her irritation increased. She wanted you to let go, to embrace the experience fully, and she was ready to do whatever it took to guide you there.
"Baby, if you don't cum right now, I'm going to spank you so hard you won't be able to walk for a month," Wanda threatened. She reached around and pinched your clit, making you gasp as she continued fucking you.
“Mmm, here it comes,” you warned her, a whimper escaping from your lips as you prepared to unleash the inevitable.
With a dramatic flourish, you tilted your head back, watching as your squirt arced out of your cunt like a shimmering comet, a cascade of droplets splashing across Wanda's face, not leaving an inch unsoaked.
You took a few deep breaths, defeatedly laying on your back next to her, leaving your tits and stomach on her sight, as well as your well-fucked pussy.
And as if you were made of the most fragile crystal, she pulled the bedsheets from under you, enveloping both of you under the warmth of her bedsheets.
The sudden shift of treatment caught you off guard, and before you knew it, she had you pulled back against her chest, the sweat of her body mixing with yours.
You could hear her rapid heartbeat. It was both comforting and electrifying, grounding your once racing heart into finding its rhythm again.
"I've got you, little one," she whispered softly in your ear. “I'm not letting you go, ever again,” she vowed, leaving open mouthed kisses on your forehead.
And she held onto that promise. Forever.
The next day, the soft rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, emanating a warm glow in the room.
You stirred awake to the gentle sensation of little kisses peppering your face. The older woman beside you, with her playful affection, made you wrinkle your nose in that adorable way that never failed to make her smile.
"How are you feeling, love?" She asked softly, her concern for you palpable both in her tone and expression.
"Wonderful," you replied, stretching your limbs with a lazy grace. You leaned in and pressed your lips against hers. "And you? Did you sleep well?"
"As I’ve ever slept in my life," she confirmed, her eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and something deeper. "I want to shout to the rooftops how much I love you, how profoundly you mean to me."
Wanda loved you. Truly, deeply loved you.
What had transpired the night before was not merely a release of carnal desires; it was an intimate, powerful affirmation of connection, a way of claiming you as hers.
"I love you more," you replied, your heart threatening to come out of your chest, as it was not yet used to this level of bliss.
You pressed another kiss to her lips, pouring every ounce of your feelings into that simple peck.
"I have faith in us, in all of this," she said, her voice determined yet filled with vulnerability. "After everything that happened, would you give me a chance?" You could see the sincerity in her eyes, the longing for a future together.
"Absolutely, my darling," you reached out, taking her hand in yours reassuringly. Two souls intertwining like an ivy growing over a sturdy stone.
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#wandavision#marvel
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Editing Your Novel Part 2: The Plot Pass
Okay, it's finally time to edit. You've got all your materials sorted, it's time to dive right in. You want to start with the big edits first, aka the plot pass.
Now listen. You're going to want to linger and fix those little bits of grammar or dialogue, and I know it's so hard not to, but letting yourself get off-track might mean wasting hours on a scene you realize later you have to delete. Fix a few spelling errors, leave a note, and stay plot-focused.
Making Sense (Of the Plot)
In the plot pass, you're asking yourself some basic questions:
Do events follow a clear order? - When you're getting everything down on the page for the first time, scenes might get jumbled up or events might not have clear causes. Maybe you have a car crashing into the cafe pages before, but in a writing haze, you wrote your main characters having a casual conversation moments later. If the bad guy beats your heroes to treasure, is it clear how they got there? (Not everyone can be Yzma.)
Do circumstances feel contrived? If there are any problems that can be solved by your characters sitting down and talking to each other, it may be better to lean into their motivation for not speaking to each other, rather than coming up with bad romcom scenarios. If the plot can be resolved by the mcguffin the grandma had the whole time, it might be better to make finding that mcguffin part of the plot instead.
It doesn't have to be perfect, and you don't have to reinvent the wheel. If someone gets bitten by a werewolf, it's perfectly fine to have them turn into one at the worst possible moment. When it comes to contrived, you're looking for problems that seem easy to solve and look for more interesting ways to complicate them.
Are your character motivations consistent to the characters throughout the story? - They can change throughout the story, but character motivations do need to be linked to the actions they take. An out-of-nowhere betrayal is way more satisfying if you lay the groundwork for it ahead of time.
Take a moment to list out the motivations of the characters in a scene you're not quite sure of can help you figure how to fix it. Having an outline helps with this a lot!
Are you following an "if... then" format? - My brain doesn't work like this when I'm writing, because as a writer you know how A got to Z, and it seems (in your head) obvious how it happened. This is where my scene card outline come in handy, because I can look at my overview of what should happen and why, and then compare it to what actually happens in the scene. I've discovered so many threads I forgot to connect that way, like why a character had a certain device (I forgot to have him pick it up two scenes earlier), or adding a few simmering dialogue bits that make the big fight pay off much better.
Can you fix the "Because the Plot Demands It" scenes? - Look, sometimes your character needs to be in that haunted house to see that damn ghost, but your character isn't the type to set foot in such a place. It's really easy, especially in the first draft, to contrive a way in there (she took a wrong turn on her way to grandma's!), but retooling these scenes to connect them to the characters motivations and needs is the way to go. The main character doesn't want to go into that obviously cursed place, but her best friend hasn't shown up for school in three days and now she's crying for help from the second floor window. Your character's strong desire to be there for her friend is a much better way to get her into that house.
This is not always easy - it took me six fricken drafts to realize a critical part of a character's motivation was because his father blamed him for his mother's death - but it is going to be worth putting in the work to hammer down.
Do you have a solid timeline? - This might not seem as important, but it's super easy to accidentally fit two weeks worth of activities in three days. Make sure you have that on reference, even if you don't mention it in the book. Also make sure to gauge your distances if your characters are on a trip, because if you do accidentally say it takes two hours to drive from Seattle to Spokane instead of five, someone will dive down your throat for it. Not me. Just someone.
Okay, maybe me. Slow down, you maniacs.
Next post we'll dive into the structure pass. See you then!
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A Captured Dragon (BL)
Yandere! Half-brother X Crown Prince! Reader
[tw: graphic depiction(s) of violence, obsessive behaviour, betrayal, imprisonment, gaslighting, non-con kissing, incest!!!, teeny tiny bit of feminization]
✦✧✦✧
“You have done nothing to deserve that title. You were only lucky enough to be born the King’s son.”
A lot of things in life were beyond your control.
But fate had been kind to you, gifting you a life that most could only dream of. Born into the royal family as their beloved Crown Prince, the world bent to your will from the very moment you drew your first breath.
Spoiled, indulged, and never once tested by struggle—perhaps you were destined to fall from the start.
✦✧✦✧
✦✧✦✧
It’s getting harder to tell the days apart.
The world around you blurs into a cycle of sleepless nights. Your mind is a fog, heavy with the weight of guilt and fear. Each hour blends into the next, until time itself feels like a punishment.
The nightmares don’t help either.
Every time you close your eyes, they come—haunting, vivid dreams where blood stains the corridors and screams pierce the air. The sounds of blades slicing through flesh, of bodies collapsing onto blood-soaked floors, echo endlessly in your ears. It is relentless.
You see the palace engulfed in flames, your servants and people—those you’ve known your entire life—crying out in terror as they are cut down by the cold steel of soldiers.
In every dream, you stand helpless, watching as they beg for mercy. Your people reach for you in desperation, their faces twisted in agony, but you can’t move.
In every dream, at the center of it all, is him.
Daewon.
Your half-brother.
While you grew up in the limelight, basking in the affections and adoration of others, your half-brother was cast into the shadows. Born from a lowly maid, his very existence was a blemish on the royal family's image. He was the son who would never be acknowledged by his father—neither loved nor remembered.
Despite that, you had treated him kindly.
When did everything go so wrong?
After the slaughter, you were taken away and imprisoned. The room you were kept in was dark and empty—there was no light, or any warmth. It was a far cry from the luxury you were used to.
Occasionally, food and water would be brought to you—a guard would come every few days, sliding bowls of stale rice and cloudy water across the floor without a word, without so much as a glance in your direction. You felt like an animal.
But worse than the silence of your captors were the visits from Daewon.
You hated those days the most.
“Brother.” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. You can’t make out his face within the shadows.
So you bury your head further into the damp pillows, hiding from the monster in the room.
It isn’t long before you feel the bed dip under his weight, the chain on your ankle rustles against the sheets. He kneels beside you, leaning close enough for you to smell the faint traces of blood still lingering on his robe.
“You haven’t been eating,” Daewon’s voice was soft, almost tender, but you could hear the dark amusement laced beneath it. “Is the food not to your liking?”
You keep your eyes shut tight, fists clenched under the thin blankets.
It'll all be okay. Soon enough, he would leave you alone.
Cold fingers brush against your cheek, and you flinch. He chuckles at that, a low, mocking sound that makes your skin crawl.
“Did you know that these meals are what I had to eat as a child?” He whispers, his breath hot against your ears.
You briefly open your eyes, glancing at the food scattered across the floor, remnants of your earlier fit of rage—destroyed, just like everything else in your life.
“There were many days when the servants never even came. My mother often gave me her share, just so I wouldn't starve."
You grit your teeth—
"Why don't you just kill me already?"
The words hang in the air, and a suffocating silence stretches between you.
But then, Daewon's firm hand suddenly grips your chin, forcing you to meet his dark gaze.
“Kill you?” A cruel, guttural laugh escapes him, sending a shiver down your spine. “But death would be far too easy.”
“No... you have to live. You’ll live and endure. Just like I did.”
He had lived a life of invisibility, where no one cared to look beyond the stain of his tainted blood—no one, except you.
And the thought of it drives him mad.
His hand falls from your chin, trailing down until it rests against your chest. With that simple touch, your spirit breaks just a little more.
You hate him—hate him more than you’ve ever hated anyone.
Without any warning, you feel the press of his soft lips against your own. His body heat seeps into yours as he forcefully pulls you closer and presses you flush against him.
You are too tired, too hungry to resist.
"No, stop—" You protest breathlessly, the words barely escaping your lips as your mind reels, still foggy from the kiss. A dizzying mix of shock, confusion, and disgust floods your senses.
"This is wrong, we can't—"
"They will never fully accept a half-blooded bastard like me as their king."
“What?” You swallow hard, blinking up at the man.
"But surely, they'll accept a 'bride' from the royal family.”
The realization hits you like a punch to the gut.
Before you can react, his lips crash against yours again, harder this time, more possessive. The taste of him—bitterness and control—invades your senses completely.
A twisted smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and you finally understand.
This is a debt of suffering, a price he intends to collect over and over—until you were broken.
"Don’t worry. For everything you’ve done for me, I'll repay your kindness tenfold."
✦✧✦✧
[A/N]
This was not proofread, sorry for any mistakes!
#tw yandere#male reader#yandere male#yandere writing#reader insert#x reader#yandere#x male reader#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere blog#yandere x you#male yandere#yandere x reader#oc x reader#yandere imagines
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FUCK YOU, FUCK ME!
pairing: toji fushiguro x gn!reader (no anatomy described)
cw: pegging toji !!!! reader uses a strap, toji is hesitant but goes along with it and ends up LOVING it. anal (m!receiving), missionary and doggy, minor orgasm control, etc. kind of glorified anal so keep that in mind. MINORS DONT INTERACT ILL BITE
notes: this is a sponsored fic for @ficsforgaza, and im so so excited to finally be posting it!! (other wips available for sponsor here) go check out some other great creators on the blog too!! and this is my first time back writing in a bit so pls be kind :") divider by @/cafekitsune!
wc: 2.8k
“Toji, sweetheart, you need to relax.”
“Fuck- I’m fuckin’ trying,” your lover grunts, wincing and sucking in a sharp breath. “I’m not fuckin’ used to things inside’a me like you are.” You choose to ignore that last quip.
Only half a very well lubed finger deep into his tight ass, you figure this is going to be a long night, but you know it’ll be so, so, worth it - for both you and him.
The day you first proposed trying anal to Toji, he was all for it - excited even. Until he found out that you meant he’d be the one receiving, and his face immediately fell.
“No. Nope. Nothin’s goin’ up my shitter,” he had responded, making you roll your eyes and groan. You swore up and down that a prostate orgasm could be life changing for males, but he flat out refused for months. It wasn’t until your birthday when you promised him he didn’t have to buy you a gift if he agreed to try anal just once - and then he was all for it.
He was hesitant as the two of you scrolled through sex toy websites to search for the best possible strap and dildo for him. Pointing out ones you thought he might like only made his face contort in discomfort, haunted by the thought of something going inside his asshole. The list of “hard no’s” grew and grew the longer you searched: nothing longer than 6 inches, nothing girthier than a circumference of 5 inches, no skin colors because that felt too real, and no balls. Toji Fushiguro was a hard man to please.
Finally, finally, after months of convincing, hours of online shopping, and a few more days following the arrival of the package, did you have your lover laid out in front of you, legs spread and hole awaiting. It was the sweetest fucking sight in the world, and you were so grateful you maintained enough patience to get to this moment. Good things really do come to those who wait.
The harness was already strapped around your waist, painfully eager to attach the dildo and get to it, but of course there was ample prep required, especially for someone completely new to anal. Per your request, he had showered prior to you getting home from work and had tried to clean himself out a little bit, which you were very grateful for. Now you were tasked with stretching and prepping his hole. Your mouth watered at the thought of it.
Instructing him to lay on his back, for no other reason than you wanted to see his face, you press his thick, sinewy thighs apart and settle between them. You had done your best to create a gentle, relaxing environment in your shared bedroom, with the lights dimmed low, a few candles flickering on the shelf, and soft music playing from the TV. Yet still, the man was as tense as a clenched fist.
The goal was to get him a little worked up and wanting it, so you start with a little foreplay. Kissing him softly, you jerk him off slowly, getting him hard enough that he wants to cum. His hard cock lays neglected on his belly as he rests on his back, propped up against a horde of pillows, and you could honestly cum just at the sight of him. Toji is fucking beautiful.
But now it was finally time. After dousing your fingers in a thick, goopy layer of lube, you press the tip of your ring finger against his puckered hole, and he immediately flinches.
“Baby, I promise I won’t make this hurt, you have to breathe, though,” you plead, using your other hand to massage his thigh. “Here - take a deep breath with me.”
Motioning for him to follow, you suck in air, watching him closely. After rolling his eyes and deciding he’ll finally play along, he mimics you. The second he releases the breath he was holding, his body deflating, you take the chance and slip in your finger down to just the first knuckle.
He immediately gasps, furrowing his brows and grunting. “Hey! You fuckin’ tricked me!” he accuses, indignant as a little kid.
You chuckle in response. “It got it in, didn’t it?”
You stay like that for a bit, wriggling the tip of your finger purely just to start getting him used to the feeling of something inside him, watching his expressions closely.
“Does it feel good at all, babe?”
It takes Toji a moment to respond, clearly chewing on the idea in his brain. “It… it’s weird,” he finally says, pursing his lips. “It just feels strange - not… bad, though. Yet.”
“Good,” you nod. “Good. Just hang in there, and you’ll feel good soon, okay? Promise.”
He just grumbles before gripping his cock, fisting it a few times before you smack his hand away.
“Hey!” he gasps, jaw wide open. “It’s my dick!”
“No. I said no touching yourself yet,” you bite back. When he looks like he’s about to pitch a fit, you decide to throw in a “please, baby? For me?” and he backs down. Toji is nothing if not a sucker for you.
After warning him, you push your finger in to the second knuckle. He sucks in a sharp breath, but makes no protest - a good sign. Soon, you have your whole finger inside him, and he’s panting a bit.
“See, baby? I knew you could take it,” you smile softly.
“Whatever,” Toji grumbles, avoiding your gaze. He can deny it all he wants, but he can’t hide the fact that his dick twitched every time you pushed your finger in a little further. “Let’s hurry this up and get it over with.”
Your eyes go wide at that, but you nod. “Your wish is my command, sir,” you smirk.
And just like that, your whole pointer finger has bullied its way inside him.
“Fuck!” Toji coughs, lurching forward. “You can’t do that!”
“Oh, but I can,” you grin impishly. “Just lay back and let me work you open, okay?”
Now that you have two fingers inside him, you can actually make some headway. Squirting some more lube around his entrance, you start to very slowly fuck him with your fingers, pumping them in and out at a snail’s pace. Toji stays silent, still refusing to meet your gaze, but his cheeks are cherry red and he’s gripping the sheets with a tight fist.
The quiet music coming from the TV hums softly in the background, and you hope it’s relaxing him at least a little as you slowly spread your fingers apart, trying to scissor them open to loosen the muscles and stretch him out. Toji’s breath hitches when you spread them even past when his hole starts to resist, and you smirk. You guess he likes the feeling of being full just as much as you do.
Time passes painfully slowly while you work him open with your fingers, aching to finally get inside him. To finally fuck Toji in the way he deserves. Finally, you feel like he’s prepped enough to adequately take the strap. It might hurt a tiny bit, but what’s the harm in that?
“Okay, sweetheart,” you start as you fit the jet black dildo into the O-ring connected to the strap. “You okay on your back like this, or do you wanna take it from the back?”
His face burns bright red at the thought of you fucking him in doggy, so he just shakes his head. “ ‘m fine like this,” he mumbles, and you nod.
Once again settling between his thighs, you wrap a hand around his cock and pump it lazily, offering him a small smile.
“You look so pretty laid out like this for me, legs spread and ass spread so wide, ready to take my cock,” you muse, mind in overdrive.
“S-st-stop,” Toji squeaks out, biting his fist. He won’t admit it, he can’t admit it, he’ll die before admitting how much that turns him on. He can’t admit how his ass has started to ache for something to fill it back up again, even though you’re more than willing to oblige.
“Can’t, baby boy,” you frown, leaning in for a kiss. “Not when I finally have you like this.”
The brief kisses seem to relax the tense man just a bit, melting against your lips and kissing back hungrily. You could’ve sworn you caught a just fuck me already under his breath, but he’ll refuse it until his deathbed.
When you make eye contact with him and he nods, you press the well-lubed tip of the strap against his hole, watching with stars in your eyes as it resists, but still tries to spread open. A cough can be heard from near the headboard, but no protests so far. Soft whines fight to escape Toji’s throat as you push in each centimeter of the silicone cock, face burning hot and red. About halfway in, you pause, giving the man a moment to breathe and acclimatize to the intrusion inside him. He’s grateful for it too, huffing and groaning and squirming as he tries to find a more comfortable position, but there is none. Not when there’s something hard shoved up his ass. You just stay as patient as a saint, massaging his muscly thighs and running your hands up his torso, trying your best not to lean too far forward and inch any more of the cock inside him. As a treat, you give his throbbing, aching cock a few tugs with your spit coated palm, and he lets out a sigh.
One more moment of eye contact, and more nod, and you push your hips a little farther forward. Suddenly, Toji lurches forward again.
“Gah!!” he cries out, eyes wide and heaving. “What- what was that? What did you do?” The accusatory questions only make you laugh, leaning in to kiss him sweetly.
“Must be your sweet spot - your prostate,” you chuckle. “Here - let’s try again.”
Pulling out a few inches and thrusting in again has Toji sputtering and groaning all over again. You can’t help but break out into a wild smirk. This is exactly what you wanted. Not only for yourself, as a perfect view to marvel at and take in, but for him - Toji deserves this, deserves to feel good.
Leaning forward, hands braced on either side of his chest, you muster up all your strength and thrust hard. This time his head is falling back against the pillow as he cries out with a call of your name, too.
“It’s all the way inside, sweetheart,” you smile, marveling at how the silicone balls are pressed firm against his ass. “How do you feel?”
“G-good,” he nods, gulping. “Just- let’s just do this- please,” Toji chokes out.
This version of Toji, one so vulnerable and desperate, is one you’ve never seen before. Not even when he’s fucking you - he’ll get desperate to get his dick wet, sure, but this is… different. Sweeter. His dark, unruly hair is matted to his forehead with sweat, and his chest is heaving in anticipation. You simply have no choice than to give him exactly what he wants.
Inching your strap out to where the tip is almost dangling out of his hole, you thrust all the way back in, relishing in the way he once again moans. His reaction is so much sweeter than you could’ve imagined, and you simply can’t help the way you go fucking crazy. Your thrusts pick up speed, anchoring yourself by gripping the sheets hard as you erratically fuck your lover’s ass. The both of you are complete messes, groaning and whining and gasping almost theatrically, chasing a beautiful high.
“Harder,” Toji grunts, pulling you in by your cheeks for a messy kiss as his thick legs circle your waist. “Fuck! Fe-feels so fucking good, fuck, fuck fuck…” he blabbers, your face still in his tight grip. You couldn’t give less of a shit, just want to see him falling apart even more, so you give him exactly what he asks for.
Wet sounds of lube and skin on skin echo throughout the bedroom, mixed with the tunes of both your moaning and groaning. An ache is blossoming in your thigh muscles and you can feel yourself losing stamina but you refuse to give in just yet, using every ounce of your strength to piston your hips in and out of him. Toji can’t help but clench tight around your cock, you can feel it by the increased resistance, and you truly think you must have died and gone to heaven.
“Toji, sweetheart,” you call, trying to grab the man’s attention. “Get on your hands and knees for me, okay?”
For the first time likely ever, the man does as he’s asked with no protest. He hisses a bit as you slip all the way out of his tight heat, but scrambles to flip over and present his ass for you. There’s no way this is your Toji, not when he’s acting like this - but you decide you’ll allow yourself to indulge in this doppelganger, just for tonight.
Some adjustments to his stance are required, as he is taller than you, but you soon find a comfortable position so that your hips can be flush against his ass. His throbbing cock and balls hang heavy at this angle, dangling between his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to mind. At this angle, you have a much better view of his beautiful ass, using two hands to spread his cheeks apart and stare with a slack jaw at his abused hole, puffy and throbbing. It’s mind boggling that you were inside him. And will be again. With one languid thrust, you’re bottoming out again and pressing his face into the pillow, making him cry out.
This angle, while depriving you of your lover’s beautiful face, is much easier for your task. Having his ass presented for you like this makes fucking him a breeze - so you take, and take, and take, and take. Pump in and out of his tight, wet hole, both of your bodies trembling as you’re overcome with so much emotion and overstimulation. You feel like a bitch in heat with the way you’re rutting into him, bottoming out with almost every thrust.
“Fuck,” Toji spits. “I’m gonna fucking cum.”
Your eyes go wide at the realization. He’s going to cum? Just from getting fucked? Holy shit.
“Yeah, baby? Wanna cum? Feels so good getting fucked, huh?” you tease, continuing to fuck him hard and deep. “Want me to help you out, or so how long it takes for you to cum just from getting your ass fucked? Hm?” Your own words are lost on you, seemingly coming from a place of pure lust and not from your rational mind.
“Please help,” Toji chokes out. And he’s been so good, not touching his cock this entire time, taking your cock so well, that you decide to do as he asks.
Your pace slows down some as you wrap a hand around his aching, angry red cock, thumbing at the tip and using his tacky precum to lube up your hand some. It only takes one, two, three strokes before he’s gasping and spurting thick, hot ropes of cum onto the bed, whole body tensing as he cries out louder than you’ve ever heard before. He collapses onto the bed, and you take the message, pulling your strap out from his abused hole. No words come from his mouth, only heaves and gasps for air as he tries to come to terms with what just occurred. You don’t nag him at all, just flop down next to him and push his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes.
“Did that feel good, baby? Hm?” you ask, smiling softly at him. That’s truly all you ever wanted. You truly couldn’t give much of a shit about your own desires and lust - all you ever, ever wanted in this world was for your lover to feel good.
Toji gulps. “....Yeah. Felt real good.” It’s obvious he’s exhausted, only moments from passing out. You can’t blame him.
“Did so, so good for me, sweetheart,” you coo, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Now get some rest. It’s hard getting fucked, isn’t it?” That makes him chuckle weakly.
“Fuck you,” he rasps, but he has a lopsided smile on his face. “Love you. Really. Thank you.”
Your heart soars and you smile widely. “Of course, sweetheart. Always. I love you. Now please get some rest so we can go for a second round.”
#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#toji imagine#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#toji x y/n#jjk x y/n#jjk x gender neutral reader
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