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nereidprinc3ss · 5 days

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do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

part one | two | three | bonus chapter | four

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days.

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days.

It’s scary.

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else.

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space.

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up.

But you’re not quite there yet.

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy.

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting.

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice.

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting.

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either.

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause.

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally.

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick.

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach.

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment.

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all.

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat.

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat.

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself.

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position.

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him.

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass.

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that.

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step.

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy.

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you.

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea.

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence.

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes.

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there.

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather.

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do.

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue.

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder.

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out.

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person.

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now.

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort.

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you.

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him.

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle.

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer.

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up.

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes.

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man.

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that.��

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind.

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning.

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—”

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again.

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this.

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings.

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you.

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff.

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group.

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice.

Soon, it’s just the two of you.

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond.

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.”

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high.

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder.

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts.

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence.

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice.

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud.

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing.

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset.

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running.

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears.

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream.

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care.

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right.

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you.

You feel like you might throw up.

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away.

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking.

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is.

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying.

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder.

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette.

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you.

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection.

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you.

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them.

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again.

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale.

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice.

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive.

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more.

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby.

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again.

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink.

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words.

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles.

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk.

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup.

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant.

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit.

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it.

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede.

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done.

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you.

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him.

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom.

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta.

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever.

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side.

“You in there?”

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup.

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing.

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes.

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating.

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him.

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate.

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed.

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive.

Spencer attempts to speak again.

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?”

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face.

You don’t know where it comes from, either.

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms.

Too scared.

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too.

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room.

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final.

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home.

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do.

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing.

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet.

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move.

If only time would freeze before he could walk away.

But it doesn’t.

He sucks in a decisive breath.

“Okay,” he murmurs.

It’s that fucking phone call all over again.

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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lovingelegance · 2 years

Text

Camboy Monday AU (🎊Event)

Twitter Links + Short Scenarios!

Summary of this event : You’re a cam person in this AU and when going live, you feature the genshin boys in them! I also tried to include some people I didn’t before in my last event so enjoy!(Once again, be prepared because I’m not including everything that’s in here…)

Characters, AlHaitham, Ayato, Childe, Kaeya, Pantalone, Scaramouche, Heizou, Thoma, and Xiao.

Side note : Oh my god. Id like to thank everyone who’s liked and read my posts, and I’d like to thank the people who follow me! I also can’t forget to thank my Anons!! Thank you so much for the support I really appreciate it, like I really do. Cheers to hitting 100 followers! 🥂

Before we start, sorry for my grammar mistakes! (If I have any) 🫶

❗️Also you need a Twitter account to view most of these links!!

❕ AlHaitham

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Cum, slut! Featuring, @|D3ndr0Wh0r3”

“You’ve got some pretty moans..” You say while pumping his cock nonstop. AlHaitham moaned harder, the chat rushed in, “Of course he does!” One person says, “Yeah, pretty slutty moans.” Another person commented. You smiled under the mask and began to stroke his cock more roughly. “Ple-Please..!” He whined out, you act confused for a second. “Please what babe?” You said gently, “I need y-your cock/strap in me!!” He cried out. You pulled his hair and went quicker.

“Oh yeah?” You say switching your tone instantly. Tears rolled down AlHaitham’s face, “Yesyes! Ah- Fuck—!” Pre-cum leaked from his cock as you shoved your cock/strap in him. His whole body tensing up. “Feels- amazing!!~” He cried out once again. His eyes rolling back and he took the pleasure you gave him. Fuck, seeing the expressions he’s making made you feel intense lust. Almost as if it was spreading all over your body. “I bet it does, doesn’t it?”

~🌱

❕Ayato

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Cock Whore. Featuring, @|S1yS1ut”

“Take all of my cock you Whore.” You say demandingly. “Yes!- thank you!!” Ayato exclaimed. He bobbed his head on your cock/strap, he slightly gagged. The chat were cheering him on to take all of it in his mouth, praising him for being able to take all of your cock/strap in his mouth. You were reading the chat out loud to him, “They’re praising you for how well your taking in my cock, say thank you.” You say grabbing a fist full of hair of Ayato’s. A muffled thank you came out of his mouth.

“This angle is perfect!” You saw someone say. Ayato was riding you. You could see his cock, as well as his ass now taking your cock this time around. “Shit, he really is a fucking whore!!” Another comment appeared. When Ayato read that comment, he almost came right there and then. “Nngh..- ‘m gonna cum!~” you nodded your head signaling he could cum. Ayato came as his semen dropped down onto your chest.

~🧋

❕Childe

Link Link

❗️ Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Bitch Boy!! Featuring, @|Pain4Me”

You slapped his ass real hard. Hard enough to get a imprint of your hand on his ass. “I bet you like that, huh?” You say while slapping him again. Childe whimpered, “I do! I do!” He said desperately. The chat was in awe of his desperation. Degrading him just how he liked. “You’re so fucking pathetic!” These mean words only added more fuel to the fire. He let out a strangled moan in response. You continued to slap his ass while giving him the most disgusted look you can ever give.

“Mmm..! Ah!- Shit~” he was gripping the arm rests of the chair. His drool seeped from his mouth. You stroked his cock just the way he loved. Childe’s eyes were now rolling back. The chat went crazy it. “He looks so hot while doing it?!” “Fuck, this type of sub makes me go crazy..” you smirk. It looks like you reached your target audience with Childe. You couldn’t believe how much Sadists were behind the screen watching, but at least they were enjoying this lovely view.

~🐳

❕Kaeya

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Surprise! Featuring @|Pr1nceSS”

Now, Kaeya was very very popular. You didn’t expect him to have an account on this website, but here you were. Now fucking him. The chat flooded, they were all surprised. Their favorite dominate creator and sub creator doing a collaboration.. “Who would’ve thought? I’m not complaining though, there both so sexy.” A compliment along with a donation. “Thank you so much!!~” Kaeya said with a thoughtful look on his face, soon that look was wiped off as you fingered him.

Kaeya moaned out as he rode your fingers. Making the sluttiest noises possible from his mouth. “Before taking my cock in we should prep you with more than my fingers.. right?” You suggested. He was open to the idea but the dildo was larger than the normal sizes he used. “Ah- O-Okay..” he stuttered. You guided him onto the dildo, he whined out. “Oh my!— th-this is stretching me out..~” Kaeya said seductively. “If that stretched you out, then I wonder how you’ll do when you take me.” Maybe you should collaborate with him more often you thought to yourself.

~✨

❕Pantalone

Link Link

❗️ Scenario Beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“So humiliating. Featuring, @|1and0nly”

“UHGH!- I’ll be a good w-whore for you!!~~” You pulled his hair, and fucked him roughly. “Do you know how many times people have told me that?!” You say harshly. What you said was true, but you knew he liked getting told those type of things. “I’ll be better- wait-! Better th-than the others! I swearr~!”he says while getting drunk on the pleasure. “You’re so fucking greedy. Such a greedy whore.” The chat was going crazy. The way you said it made everyone feel some type of way. The way that Pantalone’s eagerness sparked something in them.

“Yess..!! Hah—” You tugged on the leash. You read his collar one last time before going back in to fuck him. “Number 1’s Best Whore” you giggle a bit, but not loud enough that the people who were watching you can hear it. “You really are something.” You say watching him closely. Pantalone looked away, embarrassed. “Fuck I love that embarrassed expression of his.. it’s so fucking beautiful!” A person said in the chat. You read it aloud to him and made him cum on the spot.

~💰

❕Scaramouche

Link Link

❗️ Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Maybe, Good Boy? Featuring, @|G00DBRAT”

“You know, you look pretty good in handcuffs don’t you think?” You say while sweeping the hair from his face. The chat agreed with you, saying all sorts of dirty compliments. “You.. you really think- so?” He says blushing hard. You nod and caressed his cheek. You gazed at him and made out with him. Suddenly, the kisses turned into sloppy ones and a competition to fight for dominance. Of course, we all knew who was going to win but Scaramouche still dared to challenge you.

Lifting up his skirt to show his panties, the chat were amazed with this. This was a rare moment. He practically begged. You wanted to see that adorable look of his during this round and keep it. You wanted to hear him beg aloud for the viewers to see it and cherish it. “I’ll touch you when you beg for it.” You whispered, just loud enough so the viewers could tell what you were whispering about. “Pl-Please.. P-Please touch me..~” he says cutely. Oh you were going to do some unspeakable thing to him after he said that.

~⚡️

❕Heizou

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Good Job! Featuring, @|S3CR3T6”

He knew how to push your buttons, but now.. You were pushing his. You denied his release. Every single time he said he was going to cum or said he was cumming you stopped your actions. “Why- Why?!” He cried out. You stopped again, grabbing his chin. “Why what darling?” You asked him. He hesitated but decided to talk back. “Why are y-you stopping everything when I say I’m going to cum..?” He responded. “Don’t worry, in the end it will all be worth it. Okay?~” you say sweetly. It’s as if he forgot about that part for a second.

“Fuck cumming, cumming—!” His semen goes all over his thighs. His eyes roll back and he throws his head back. “Now.. I finally let you cum. You satisfied?” You teasingly said. He nodded his head, though you had something else in store. “Well, sense you wanted to cum so bad the other times.. let’s see how many times I can make you cum.” He was shocked, but he should’ve expected this to happen. The only thing now is to prepare for the time of his life.

-📖

❕Thoma

Link Link

❗️ Scenario Beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Puppy Like, Featuring, @|MA1D4U”

The chat hasn’t seen him in a while, though they loved him. They loved how innocent he seemed but in reality he was just another cheap slut begging for your cock/strap. “I love the maid outfit!<33” “sososo cuteee” you laughed reading the comments. “They all really like your outfit for today..” you murmured. “Too bad were gonna ruin it today~” saying in a low tone. That made Thoma shiver. Shit, he hasn’t been turned on like that for a while. You knew all the spots to make him feel good.

“Mmph—! Uh~!” He whimpered out, spilling cum all over his maid dress. You soon got him on his back and fingered him. “Does that feel good sweetheart?” You ask him. “AH! yesyes-!!” He moaned out. “How can they do it that fast?!” A person in the chat said. You just tilted your head and gave the viewers a smile through your eyes. Even though they couldn’t see it behind your mask, they could tell you were smiling. “Ohh~! I think ‘m gonna c-cum again!” You turned your attention to Thoma and signaled for him to cum.

~🧹

❕ Xiao

Link Link

❗️Scenario Beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Very cute! Featuring, @|Alat0z”

“Ahh.. I see why my viewers like you so much.” You say with a smug look on your face. Xiao was all tied up and was in feminine clothes. At first he didn’t like this idea at all. Now he loves it and so does the chat. “Holy shit he’s so cute.” “The titles not wrong!!” He has a skirt and long socks on. You took off his shirt earlier because you felt like he didn’t need to hide his chest. He moaned out as the vibrator buzzed onto his cock and in his ass. “Such a good boy. Unlike some others.” You laughed.

“Aww you’re such a good boy for me aren’t you?” You say as you see him obeying your every order. Xiao wasn’t like the others. He wanted to hear your praise every second, and is willing to do anything for that. The viewers called him precious. “Mhm!” He said while looking at you with puppy eyes. Fuck. That look of his is quite powerful but he doesn’t even know that. “Let me reward you, I think you deserve it honey.” You coo. You stroke his hair and made him go on all fours.

-🌌

Y’all im so tired, but I hope you guys enjoyed!!

My requests are open <3 Sorry if I don’t get to your request right now, I’ll get to it as soon as possible!

3K notes · View notes

wosoimagines · 1 year

Text

Hoodie - Leah Williamson/Reader

part one | part two | part three | part four

prompt: Leah and Reader’s relationship is still building up together. And more people are catching on.

warnings: none

words: 3936

(Y/N) POV

“Shit! Shit,” I muttered as I threw the clothes from my bag. I could have sworn that I brought the hoodie with me for this camp. Especially since we were going to be in New Zealand.

“You okay there, (Y/N)?” Kristie asks as she comes into our room. “Oooh, that’s a mess.”

“Shut up, Kristie.”

It wasn’t here. Leah was going to kill me.

“What are you looking for?”

“My hoodie.”

“Your US one is right there,” Kristie said as she pointed at the chair behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder to look at the hoodie. It was my blue USWNT hoodie, but it wasn’t the one I was looking for.

“No, this one isn’t a team hoodie,” I said as I shook my head. I had to find the hoodie. “It’s a forest green hoodie. It’s got patches on it. Been adding patches to it whenever we go somewhere for camp.”

“You mean the one like Sonnett is wearing?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, Sonny’s wearing this green hoodie. It’s got a Hellfire Club patch, an astronaut on a skateboard, a penguin, there’s a couple of memes.”

“Where’s Sonnett?”

“Why do I feel like I shouldn’t answer that now?”

“Kristie! My hoodie! It was a gift!” I snapped. I knew what the hoodie had come to represent for me. For someone other than her to wear it was wrong. “I don’t want anyone else wearing it!”

“Um, I think she went out to get ice cream with some of the others.”

I was immediately rushing out of the room. The last thing I needed was for any pictures of Sonnett to make it to social media in my hoodie.

“I can’t talk right now,” I said as I answered my phone.

In hindsight, I should have looked at the caller id, but I had been too busy trying to dodge the people on the sidewalk.

“Why is Emily Sonnett wearing the hoodie?”

“Shit.”

“Why is Emily Sonnett wearing the hoodie?”

“Look, Leah, she probably came into my room and stole it. I’m literally headed to the ice cream shop right now so I can get it back,” I said softly. I knew that it meant more to Leah than being just some present now. “I would have never let Sonnett take it. I wouldn’t let anyone else wear it but you.”

“You promise?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you. Not to you.”

Leah went quiet on the other end of the line.

“Just get it back, yeah? And you have to add an extra patch.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to choose one for you. I’m almost there, so I’ll text you when I get it back, yeah?”

“You better.”

I grinned as I hung up the phone. At least Leah was still going to be talking to me. I made my way into the ice cream shop and it was easy enough to spot the girls. They were the largest group in the shop after all.

“Give me the hoodie.”

The girls all looked up at me as they froze.

“Sonnett. The hoodie.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Hey,” I said as I slammed my hands onto the table. “It isn’t yours. You didn’t ask to borrow it either.”

“If I had, would you have said yes?”

“No! Because it’s my hoodie! And it was a gift! It means a lot to me.”

Sonnett grumbled as she started to pull the hoodie off.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

Mal shrunk back as I glared at her. Of course none of them would, because I refused to tell them.

“Sorry,” Mal said as she held her hands up.

“So, what is the story behind the hoodie?” Sanchez asked.

“Nothing that concerns you,” I said as I sent a glare her way as a warning. I turned my glare back to Sonnett since Sonnett had been begging to borrow the hoodie since she saw it in my social media posts. “Take the hoodie again, and you’ll never step on a pitch again. Got it?”

Sonnett gulped as she quickly nodded her head.

“Good.” I smiled as I patted the side of Sonnett’s face.

I held the hoodie in my hands as I headed out of the ice cream shop. I made a point to post a picture on my Instagram story with the hoodie in my hands to show that I had it back. I knew that it might spark some new dating rumors since Sonnett had obviously been seen wearing it on social media.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You were supposed to text me that you had the hoodie back.”

“Yeah, I got distracted. Saw a patch in a store that I wanted to get.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Too bad that you’ll just have to wait to see it until I get back unless I take good pictures in the hoodie in between games.”

“(Y/N), that’s no fair.”

I grinned at the whine. It had quickly become a thing for Leah and I to grab a patch anytime that we were traveling for the hoodie.

“Did you get any new patches? I know you were playing in Milton Keynes,” I said. I knew how excited Leah had been about getting to play where she grew up. “It seems cool getting to play where you’re from.”

“It was amazing. I wish you could have been there,” Leah said. My grin only grew at that. I would have loved to be at the game, but I had my own national team duties. “The game was amazing. We won! 4-0.”

“I saw,” I said as I thought back to their game. “Still makes me pissed that Man Utd. refused to let Alessia transfer to join us at Arsenal.”

“Tell me about it. You know, I’ve been trying to get the team to replace this one forward we have,” Leah started off. I shook my head at that. “You might know her actually. She’s this really cocky American. Thinks she’s better than everyone else.”

“Maybe she is?”

“Oh, my God,” Leah gasped, causing me to chuckle. “It’s almost like I can hear her right now.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Leah giggled at that but I scratched the back of my neck. My grin had fallen in less than a second and was replaced with a frown.

“Hey, Lee?” I asked, causing Leah to hum to let me know that I had her attention. “You don’t actually want the team to replace me, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” Leah assured me. I softly smiled at that. “You might still be a little too cocky in my opinion, but you aren’t that bad... Usually.”

“Usually?”

“Yeah, usually. You got a problem with that?”

“Maybe just a bit.”

There was a knock on the door causing me to raise my head. I looked up as Kristie stuck her head into the room.

“Hey, we’re about to check out,” Kristie announced.

“Thanks,” I said as I smiled at her. “I’ll be right down. Let me just say bye.”

Kristie nodded as she closed the door again. I got up from my spot on the bed. I was wearing the hoodie with two new patches on it. I started to move to grab my bags.

“I gotta go.”

“Yeah, I should probably go too. Kiera’s been bugging me to go out with her at some point today.”

“Leah! You shouldn’t ignore your friends just to call me.”

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” Leah said. I didn’t need someone else to point out how all the blood rushed to my face as I blushed at that. “And to tell you that you did good against Canada. I know you take those games personally.”

“Yeah, well, when they’re the reason you break your leg right before the Olympics, it becomes a little personal.”

“Yeah, but they’re always physical against everyone.”

“You’re more than welcome to put on one of our jerseys and play against them. See just how physical they play when it’s us out there on the pitch.”

“I think I’ll stick with the three lionesses on my jersey, thanks.”

“Yeah, whatever. Look, I really should go. I wouldn’t put it past Vlatko to leave me stranded to prove a point. I’ll text you later though?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did Katie give you this one?” Leah asked. I looked up from my spot at the island to see that she was pointing to the orange juice box patch that had been added to the hoodie. “Tears of my enemies?”

“No, but I’m sure she wishes.”

“Also, a QR code? Where’s it lead?”

“I guess you’ll just have to scan it to find out,” I shrugged.

Leah rolled her eyes at that. I watched as she headed back to the living room. It wasn’t long though before I heard the song playing through the house.

“Seriously!” Leah’s voice echoed over the song. I couldn’t help as I laughed at her as she came back into the kitchen. “You Rickrolled me?”

I only shrugged at it. Leah scoffed as she shook her head. She turned her attention back to her phone.

“Hey, do you mind if some of the national team comes over?” Leah asked. I raised an eyebrow at that. I had gotten back relatively fast, but that was mostly because we had a game on the 26th against Chelsea. “Some of the girls have tonight before they go back to their clubs in the morning. The house has the most space, but it is yours and I wouldn’t invite them over if you don’t want them to come over.”

“I don’t mind,” I shook my head. I looked at the time on the stove. “I was planning on heading to London Colney.”

“You’re going to train?”

“I usually do when I get back from camps,” I shrugged. My body had adjusted back to USA time while I was in the States and I usually spent a couple of days to adjust back. “I went to a different time zone. It takes a couple of days to get back to time here.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

I looked back over at the clock.

“Want me to throw something together before they get here? I could make some pasta and garlic bread in like 20 minutes tops?”

“You don’t mind?” Leah asked. I shook my head. I really didn’t since I knew that Leah hadn’t eaten dinner yet. “I think the girls would love that.”

“You know where the wine is too, so help yourselves. Just don’t drink it all,” I said, causing Leah to nod. I stood up to start working on the pasta. “Save me some so I can eat when I get back?”

Leah nodded in agreement and I grinned at that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I dropped my keys onto the table by the entrance before kicking my shoes off. I could hear the girls talking through the house. I figured that they were probably still in the kitchen and living room. I ducked through the laundry room to get into my bedroom without being seen.

I peeled my sweaty clothes off before jumping in for a quick shower. Once I put fresh clothes on, I could still hear the voices in the rest of the house. I threw my dirty clothes into the laundry room before exiting my room to make my way into the kitchen. Thankfully, none of the girls in the living room had noticed me as all of their backs had been turned to me.

“Hey,” Leah softly greeted me when she saw me.

I sent Leah a soft smile as the others in the kitchen had turned to look at me. I ignored the looks that the other English women sent me as I grabbed a plate before getting some pasta and bread and heating it back up in the microwave.

“How was training?”

“Good,” I nodded as I pulled the plate out of the microwave. I moved to sit at the island. “Burnt off a lot of energy, so maybe now I’ll actually get some sleep tonight. Thankfully, Jonas understands if I oversleep, but I don’t think he’d be too happy if you don’t show up on time.”

“Am I missing something?”

I looked up to find Keira Walsh’s eyes trained on me.

“I thought we couldn’t stand (Y/L/N),” Keira said.

“No, we can,” Leah said. I raised an eyebrow as I looked over at Leah. “I’ve been staying here with her since Jordan and I broke up.”

“Oh, hey, did you get the patches you brought back onto the hoodie?” I asked. Leah nodded causing me to grin. “I still can’t believe you wouldn’t show them to me when I got in.”

“I can’t believe you Rickrolled me with a patch on the hoodie.”

I rolled my eyes at that.

“Hold up,” Lucy said, causing my attention to be drawn to her. “That’s your hoodie? Leah’s been wearing your hoodie?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

“Awwww, look Captain England is embarrassed that she’s my friend.”

Leah threw one of the cloth napkins at me. I couldn’t help but laugh as I caught the napkin.

“No one ate in the living room, did they?”

“No one ate in the living room,” Leah assured me. I nodded at that. It was one of the biggest rules I had and asked Leah to respect while she stayed here. “I think they have wine in there right now, but no one ate there. I know how you feel about it.”

“Thanks.”

“So, you two are living together?” Keira asked

“Until I can find another place,” Leah said.

“Unless you just want to officially move in here,” I said. Leah turned to look at me and I shrugged. “It’s been kind of nice having someone else in the house.”

“Maybe you should get a dog,” Keira suggested.

“No. No way,” I shook my head at that. A dog was a bad idea. “Dogs need too much maintenance. And we are gone far too often. It isn’t a practical idea.”

“Then get a cat.”

“I’m good,” I shook my head. “Don’t even know how to take care of one. Mom was allergic so we never had a cat growing up.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on moving out anytime soon,” Leah assured me. I smiled at that. It was nice to know.

“So, are you two a thing?” Lucy asked.

I froze at that. Leah and I sure acted like we were together sometimes, but I didn’t want to push her with everything that had been going on with Jordan and I knew her breakup was still pretty fresh.

“Honestly? I’m just trying to make sure that Leah has someone right now. If that ever turns into more, that’ll be up to her. But I’m not going to take advantage of someone who’s hurting.”

The women in the kitchen went silent as they took the words in.

“Who’s fucking golden boots are these!”

I looked over my shoulder, but I didn’t actually know the voice. I just turned back to Leah with a raised eyebrow.

“Georgia. Probably looking for the bathroom.”

I sighed as I got up from my spot. I made my way to the room where Georgia was standing looking at all of the stuff that was sitting throughout the room.

“Looking for the bathroom?” I asked. Georgia whirled around to face and her brow furrowed in confusion at the sight of me. “Just one more down. And on the other side.”

“This is all of your stuff?” Georgia asked. I nodded as I shrugged. Sure it was all cool and everything, but outside of the medals, most of it didn’t actually seem that much to me. “Dude, you should have this stuff displayed, even if you are an American.”

“Yeah, sure,” I nodded. My worth had been tied to how I did on the field for so long that I just wanted one place where it didn’t matter what I had won. “Bathroom. It’s one door down on the other side.”

Georgia held up her hands as she started heading on. My eyes caught something missing on the wall.

“Georgia,” I said. She turned around to face me. “My World Cup medal?”

“I just wanted to look at it closer,” Georgia said as she looked at the floor and held it out to me.

I took the medal back as I looked at it. I sighed as I looked up at her.

“How about you go to the bathroom and then you can have a closer look at everything in here?”

Georgia looked up at me with a grin on her face as she nodded. I hung the medal back on the wall as I glanced at the trophies that were thrown in boxes. Some of them were probably pretty cool. I shook my head as I went back to the kitchen. There was no avoiding the players who were still in the living room.

“Everything okay?” Leah asked when I sat back down.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Georgia just opened up the spare room where I keep all my awards and medals. I told her when she gets out of the bathroom, she can look at them.”

“Got anything cool in there?”

I looked over my shoulder at the newcomer.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I shrugged as Alessia moved further into the kitchen. “I mean, all of my stuff is in there. I think Georgia was more interested in looking at the World Cup medals than anything else when she realized they were in there.”

“You keep your World Cup medals hidden away?” Keira asked.

“It’s not like I have people over. No reason to exactly have them on display.”

“Dude! Is this the Ballon d’Or?”

“Oh, my God! I swear, Stanway, if you break it, I will break you!”

I needed to pack it up so I could fly it back to the States with me when I went back during the summer. I heard the feet hitting on the floor before the person came close enough.

“What’s this?”

I looked at the medal that Georgia had in her hands. I furrowed my brow in confusion as I took the medal from her to look at it. It was probably some medal that was worth like 20 bucks painted gold.

“A youth soccer medal.”

“And you have it up on the wall with World Cup medals?”

“I got this when I was 6-years-old,” I said as I held the medal back to her. “That was my first season playing soccer. And I fell in love with it and the championship game where I won that was the moment when I decided that it was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”

“So, why aren’t these up somewhere to show them off?” Georgia asked. I shook my head at that. I didn’t want to get into it. “There’s some pretty cool things in there.”

“It’s kind of personal. No offense to any of you but I literally haven't had a conversation off the pitch with any of you besides Leah and Lotte.”

“Well, if you ever want help putting them on display, give me a call,” Georgia said as she looked back down at the medal in her hands. “I’d be willing to help just because of how cool it all is.”

“Do not invite her to help,” Lucy said as she pointed at Georgia. “She cannot use any tools to save her life.”

I chuckled a little at that. I could handle myself around tools. My dad had made sure of that.

“Also, what’s that huge trophy in there? It says ‘State Championship.’“

“You do not touch that. You will never tell anyone about it either. Do you understand?”

Georgia nodded before she scrambled off back to the room. I turned back to find four pairs of eyes on me.

“In our high schools, we have State Championships for each sport. Think of it like the division you’re in is based on the size of the school you go to and the other schools of the same size closest to you,” I explained. I rubbed the back of my neck. “My school won State four years in a row. My senior year, I kind of stole the trophy? They never figured out who did it. And I need it to stay that way because I go back this summer to announce that I’ve donated the money for the soccer teams to have their own field that they don’t have to share with the football team and their own locker rooms. They’re not gonna invite me back if they know that I took the trophy.”

“Wow,” Lucy said. She glanced over her shoulder at Leah. “Maybe Leah shouldn’t be staying with someone who just admitted to stealing.”

“You would steal it too if you won the championship and then they announced that you wouldn’t be considered part of the team anymore because it came out that you were gay.”

“Oh, shit.”

I ran a hand through my hair at that. It seemed that I was just going to be oversharing with British players lately.

I got up from my seat and moved my dishes into the sink before cleaning them off. I threw them into the dishwasher, but since it wasn’t full yet, I didn’t start it. I looked over at Leah.

“I’m gonna go lie down. If you need me, just come get me. If I’m asleep when you go to bed, just wake me up and I’ll move to the couch.”

Leah only nodded as I moved to my room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning,” Leah said.

I looked at her over my shoulder as I smiled at her. Leah sat down at the island as I plated up the food before I grabbed the plates. I sat one in front of Leah before sitting the other one next to her. I turned back to grab the cups of coffee before putting them by the plates.

“Sugar and cream?”

“Yes, sugar and cream.”

I moved over to the other side of the island as Leah took a bite of her omelet. I took a drink of my coffee before I started to dig into my omelet.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” Leah asked eventually.

I raised my head to look at her. I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant considering we had talked about a range of things last night.

“About... us?”

“I mean, I won’t deny that I like you, Leah,” I said softly. I guess if I was going to tell Leah the truth, it wouldn’t hurt to tell her everything. “I would love to take you out on a date some time, but I don’t want to be a rebound and I don’t want you to go out with me before you’re ready to. You were with Jordan for a while. It would be understandable if you need a while before you’re ready to date again.”

“But what if I wanted to go on a date with you?”

“I mean, if you’re asking...”

“Well, I am.”

“Then you’re planning.”

“Only if I can wear the hoodie.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Leah grinned at that before she pressed a kiss against my cheek. She got up from her seat and moved over to the sink.

“I’m wearing it today. And I hope you’re good at arcade games, because the loser is buying drinks,” Leah said as she looked over her shoulder. “And I am wearing the hoodie all day today.”

#leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagines #leah williamson #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #USWNT #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc imagine #arseanl wfc imagines #arsenal wfc x reader

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dilfhos · 8 months

Text

PART ONE.

#!WHO; Sukuna the demon ft. GOJO.

#!CC: deadoves! no warning. MDNI. [read the tags on original knktbr fic. this is still dc.]

note: soo, ive been craddlin’ this baby since 2019, only recently deciding to add Sukuna and Gojo. very begrudgingly posting it here, however i will not be updating if this flops. ik how tumblr is with long fics/series—unfair. so if you’re interested lmk or else you can read on my ao3 !!

You arrive at the old Kaisen house, adoring the scene. The demon sets his sights on you.

WC. 3.8k+

[I.] [II] [III.] | KINKTOBER ‘23 | plz reblog if you enjoyed, id love to reach an audience!

“We’re here,” Your eyes fluttered open, the sun rays spilling into your vision as you stirred awake. Beside you was your best-friend, Gojo Satoru, sitting back, his hand tugging at the hem of his damp shirt. You looked over at him then forward through the front window, met with an old gate. Behind it was the house, large in stature and almost intimidating as it stood in front of the afternoon sun, casting long shadows along the lawn.

“Looks like the gate is—”

“I got it!” You interrupted eagerly, unbuckling your seatbelt and leaping out the car. You made your way towards the gate, unlatching the metal and pushing it open. You then stood, admiring the house further.

It was a beautiful old giant, its Victorian style exterior being the highlight of it all. You glanced around you, noticing how the rest of the street seemed almost separated from your patchy plot of land. As if the neighboring houses were trying to get away. Segregated from the quaint smaller houses filled with decored and neat lawns, was your new home.

You made a motion towards the car, prompting Satoru to reach and grab the bag that held your prized item. You took your camera and eagerly paced back and forth near the entrance until you found a good spot to take a photo.

Yeah, there would be plenty of pictures in the future. The house was even more beautiful through the lens as you snapped a couple. In front of the house to the left was a large tree, nearly scarce of green leaves as it added more touch of age to the scene.

“How long are you going to be out there?” Satoru called, an arm draped over the open window. You could hear a tinge impatience in his tone but you didn’t move yet.

“Sorry! I’m coming!”

He sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest, fingers strumming against the wheel. A thin coat of sweat beaded along his skin, slicking his white locks down against his forehead.

This house really gave him the creeps. He understood you wanted to get away from everything but he didn’t think it would go this way.

A couple months ago, he had visited you in the city and was surprised by the fact that you were wanting to move out. Not just out of the apartment but out of the entire area. You told him you wanted a change in pace, in scenery. To quit your current job for the time being and just be at peace. He honestly thought you were out of your mind but after coming to terms with how that life was treating you, he supported the decision. He was your best friend, he would always support your decisions, even the…bold ones.

His eyes scanned the surroundings.

This part of town was quietly tucked in the country and had plenty of beautiful places to photograph and “run through fields” as he put it. Given the little population and even fewer vacancies, there weren't any options to live except for the old manor a little bit on the edge of town.

Being protective, Satoru didn’t waste time in Shadowvale’s research and made privy to the stories but he didn’t believe them. It was just a silly ghost legend made up by the oldheads to spook outsiders and the younger generations. But it didn’t stop him from telling you about them.

Being much like your friend to find the story silly, you laughed it off, ecstatic that you would finally be moving. And he wasn’t that far of a drive from you so he supposed it was fine.

Satoru watched as you finally circled back to the passenger side, eyes down on the camera screen. You got in, sighing at the gust of cool air. The car began moving again as it crept forward past the gate and along the dirt path that led up to the large house.

“Get any good shots?”

“Yes! It’s more beautiful through the lens than in person. And the way the light was hitting it…” Satoru smiled as he listened to you excitedly fill him in as if he could understand a half of what you were talking about.

. . .

“What is in here? ” Satoro croaked, nearly collapsing on the porch. He had one of your boxes in his arms, stumbling toward the door. Following close behind him was you with another box. You rested a foot upon the first step of the porch, ignoring the stressed creak it brought.

“Just clothes?” You honestly didn’t know. It could have been anything really and as far as you knew, it wasn’t even heavy. He probably just wanted something to complain about.

“They feel like bowling balls,” He sat the box down in the foyer, swiping at sweat that began to bead down his temple. You rolled your eyes as you followed behind him placing the box on top.

The sky was beginning to darken, more clouds obscuring the afternoon sky. Shadows seemed to appear in the dimness, warping spindly shapes across the lawn. The thicker clouds that seemed to come out of nowhere loomed over the countryside with promises of rain in the night.

You shivered, arms pricking in goosebumps as you crossed the threshold, placing down another box. It seemed so cold all of a sudden, a stark contrast to how it was nearly an hour ago when your clothes were practically melting against your skin. You jumped when you felt a firm hand grip your shoulder.

“Woah, jumpy already?” Satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “If you’re gonna chicken out, tell me now so I won’t have to load the rest.”

“You’re just trying to get out of work, Gojo,” You playfully shoved his arm and made your way back to the car. The only thing that remained was your television, propped up at an odd angle because of its large size. The trek to the house was awkward with the screen nearly bigger than you, but you made it, sitting the appliance against the wall of the foyer.

At least the chill was gone, after having broken another sweat. You watched from the doorway as Satoru closed all of the doors. Once more, your eyes ventured up towards the sky, another shiver running down your spine.

“You okay?” He questioned, making his way towards the door. You nodded, stepping back to allow him inside before closing the door.

Sukuna’s canines were made visible as his malicious grin widened, stretching inhumanly against his face. Raven spikes jutted out every which way, a part only tamed enough to fall before his striking crimson eyes as he looked over the railing of the staircase. He ran a clawed finger teasingly over the wood, always touching but never feeling.

The demon licked his lips slowly, his intense gaze catching you and the way you ran your hands along your arms in the foyer. His claws began to strum lightly against the wood as he continued to watch you with focus.

You walked further into the house, in awe at how spacious the interior was. To your right was a winding staircase, leading up to what looked to be a balcony. Unaware of the demonic presence, your eyes linger in the place he stood before moving on to your left.

The foyer spilled into a wide den, already furnished with a couch and a couple love chairs covered in plastic. The plastic crinkled under your touch as your fingertips ran along the surface of the couch, seeking out small holes and other old looking stains.

Everything had an antiquated touch to it and you wondered how long the house had been standing, abandoned by its previous owners.

Your eyes wandered to the fireplace on the far end of the living room. The entrance was gated with a rusting metal. You squatted down, fingers running along the rough bricks. Frowning at the dust that gathered on your skin, you straightened, rubbing your hands against your jeans.

From the balcony, the demon had the perfect view of you. So curious, eyes darting around only to pause and inspect something of little significance just for you to do it all again. He watched as you made a circle around the den, studying everything your greedy eyes took in as if the sight were new.

“Gojo?” You called, making your way back towards the boxes.

Was that what the other one was called? Frankly, he couldn’t bother to care as he’d already signed off on him. He’d make a decent meal though.

“Yeah!” Satoru responded from the kitchen. You peered in that direction for a few seconds waiting for him to emerge. Rolling your eyes, your attention returned to the box you were squatted in front of.

“Don’t go running off. You still have to help me,” You whined, hands rummaging through the cardboard. Empty handed, you flipped over the flaps to a nearby box, doing the same thing.

“This sink doesn’t work! It's like… stuck or something,”

“Just leave it before you break it more. I’ll call someone tomorrow.” You shouted, standing up. You sighed, stretching as your little fingers wiggled upwards. Sukuna watched unmoving as you stretched, eyeing a brief sight of your tummy.

Those were a lot of boxes. Not the occasional suitcase or makeshift plastic bags he usually saw with squatters.

So you were moving in. He chuckled darkly.

He actually couldn’t determine if you were stubborn or just plain stupid. You probably thought that nothing existed beyond your little mortal realm, that no outworldly dangers could harm you.

The small chuckle developed into a much throatier laugh, the noise disappearing into nothing. He was about to disappear before his attention snapped back towards you, his hands gripping the peeling wood of the banister almost painfully as he leant over the bar.

You had gasped, his ears picking up on the familiarity of sound, quickly identifying it as surprise. Fear? Sukuna watched in intrigue as your eyes darted around for the source, only briefly ghosting over the place he stood. He remained frozen, holding his breath as you looked right through him.

You could’ve sworn you heard laughter. The floorboards creaked beneath your feet as you walked around, trying to strain your ear for whatever you heard.

“Toru?” Maybe he was on the phone or something.

Unfortunately for you, that second was all it took for the demon to be immediately interested in you.

For decades, he remained rooted to this cursed plot after his grisly death with the inability to be seen, felt, and most definitely heard. He only controlled the physical realm which made for a lot of entertaining nights for whoever dared to trespass. Not to mention he was granted his demonic familiars. They had no intelligence but it kept him company, he supposed. Less lonely being evil if he’s surrounded by the very essence.

But something about that little gasp as if you heard something illogical... It made him lick his lips, something dark and enticing settling into the pit of his stomach. His mind was racing with new fun and exciting things he wanted to do with this information.

Satoru finally emerged from the kitchen, his shirt spotted in darkness, hair dripping in water. You took one look at his disgruntled form and bursted out laughing, immediately forgetting about the noise you heard.

“Its funny that your new sink is janked up?”

“Janked up?” His seriousness only made it funnier. He sucked his teeth and made his way towards the boxes, hastily searching for a towel.

“What were you...even doing...in there?” You said in between giggles. He only ignored you as you wiped away the wetness that gathered in your eyes.

“Are you done?” He deadpanned. You nodded with a smile. He only scoffed before he started to bring out contents from one of the boxes. You then took your place next to him, sorting through the items.

“Hey, what was funny earlier?” You cut through the silence.

“What do you mean?” He crinkled his forehead.

“You were laughing at something. Did Suguru send a dumb meme or something?” You giggled. Your face only fell at his response.

“I wasn’t laughing and I haven’t spoken to him since last Tuesday.”

Little words were exchanged as he helped you unpack. He was probably still upset. After a while, you grew bored and wanted to venture around. Even though you’d already seen the house on the tour, you were itching to do something. Standing up, you brushed off your hands, attention venturing to the staircase balcony.

“Hey, I’m gonna go check out the rooms upstairs,” A simple grunt was made as Satoru looked towards you.

“I’m not getting paid to do this!” He shouted as you began your trek. You smiled, calling back, “The unwavering devotion to the best friend in the entire world should be enough to start right?”

Upon going up, you felt a weird chill and found yourself turning towards the wall. You paused midway, eyeing the surface where you saw what was assumed to be a large painting or portrait.

You couldn’t really tell with the dingy cloth that covered it. Your fingers itched to tear away the cloth to reveal what was underneath but you didn’t. This was just one of the many things left behind by the last owners and you felt if you did, it'd somehow be disrespectful. You should call the realtor to inquire about possibly having some of the stuff taken out of the house.

“Hey, I’m going to step out for a bit, I need some air,” Satoru called from the doorway, suddenly feeling nauseous. You leaned over the wooden balcony, amazed at how high you were. After waving him off, he walked out, the door creaking shut behind him and you turned, facing the hallway.

The way you stood there was kind of enticing, especially with the way your eyes darted around with that same greedy look he noticed before. But something else was mixed with it, Sukuna noticed.

Unease.

He could sense it in the way you tensely rocked on the balls of your feet, looking between the few rooms that lined the dark hallway. Sukuna stood at the very end on the hall, leaning against the peeling door with arms crossed, watching for your next move. He really wanted you to walk his way so he could get a taste of that nerve-racked aura but much to his dissatisfaction, you chose the first room on the left.

It was fine, he could be patient. He only had the rest of his eternal death.

With a menacing grin, his form shivered, bending into the light until he was gone.

. . .

Even though you’d seen the rooms on the tour, viewing them again took your breath away once more in how spacious it was. Every part of the house exuded mystery and refinement. The bathrooms had surprised you the most; one being nearly as big as the bedroom, having room for a large claw-footed bathtub, a shower, plus two sinks. Giving one last look, you decided that it did pair nicely with the room attached. As expected, the large king-sized bed was still there, neatly made. Deciding to exit out the bedroom, you made your way toward the door.

“What the…” You tried the knob, jerking the brass but it was stuck. You tried once more, taking the handle between both hands and jiggling it as hard as you could.

You could see the wooden door moving against the frame but it wouldn’t open. This didn't happen on the tour. You stepped back, deciding to go through the other way but stopped in the middle of the bathroom, an eyebrow lifted in confusion.

Did you close the door behind you?

It was shut just like the other. No...you didn’t think you did. You moved towards the door turning the handle.

It was stuck too.

“Gojo?” You called, gripping the doorknob. Was he messing with you? You pulled and pushed with more force now, pacing to the other door to be met with the same result. Your stomach churned thickly as your skin began to prickle with heat.

“Gojo, open the door! This isn’t funny!” You called slapping your palm against the wood. You were beginning to grow frantic until finally, the door gave way.

Stumbling forward, you immediately gag at the sour odor that hit your nose. It smelled rotten and it caused you to cover your face with your arm.

But the odor was immediately forgotten when your eyes settled on the sight of the last room. You moved to the large rectangular window across the way, the sides framed by flowing curtains. It ran from the edge of the ceiling, stopping just above the hardwood floors.

The view outside was just as breathtaking as the first time, spreading over the fields of the rural side. You could see some houses peppering the golden hills of early autumn land.

“Wow,” You whispered, moving around the room. There was a queen-sized bed on one side, neatly made in a similar fashion as the one in the other room. Against the other wall was a desk.

You fell back onto the bed, breathing in deeply despite the rank smell. You loved it, everything from the antiquated vibes to even the apparently faulty doors.

You felt really at home, a feeling you haven’t had since your life in the city. You laid there, basking in the final fleeting heat rays of the setting sun until you suddenly tensed, eyes snapping open. Hairs stood up on your skin, making you shiver slightly.

That same chill.

Sitting up, your eyes scanned the empty bedroom. The shadows shifted in the corner, tricking your peripheral into moving your full attention in the area. Getting up, you moved over to the opposite side, running your fingertips along the smooth walls. It was just a simple corner, void of that special something. That something that you decided you were definitely going to set up as your photography corner. You smiled, trying to think of that instead of the foreboding unease that just wouldn’t leave you alone.

From behind you, Sukuna stood close, clawed hands reaching out to trace the outline of the nervous aura that you emitted despite your exterior calmness. When he brushed your neck, you jumped, whipping around, eyes wide.

Nothing.

But it was most definitely something, you rubbed the back of your neck, eyes darting around until you decided it was just a draft. Your walk toward the door was brisk though and if he'd known better, it almost seemed like you were in a hurry, as if you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

The door creaked shut behind you.

. . .

“Have fun exploring?” Satoru asked as you bounded down the stairs, not even looking up from his phone. He decided not to tell you about the sudden sickness that overpowered him earlier instead deciding your bliss was something he didn’t want to ruin.

You nodded, expressing your excitement for the way you were going to set up your hobby station. You looked on the coffee table to see a box labeled Photography, in his sloppy scribble. Satoru looked up, catching your gaze.

“Before I go, I wanna get a picture of us,” When you raised a brow, he smiled before continuing.

“In your new pad. It’d be the first picture you take since the city and y’know, since I did most of the grunt work its the least I’m owed. Besides, by the time you get settled in, there’ll be photos scattered everywhere by next week,” You both laughed.

“Sure thing Toru,”

Another hour had passed after some coaxing to help you actually settle in. Satoru helped you place them where they belonged. Bags of cutlery, pots, pans and other kitchen ware were all sat upon the glass table in the dining room. You forgot how beautiful this area was, spacious and home-y for meal nights, which you were looking forward to. It was separated by an island, the other side made as a kitchen.

Your photography stuff and your clothing were taken upstairs to the room where it was placed on the desk.

“Isn’t this room amazing?” You beamed, arms spread wide as you stood in the center. Satoru stood in the doorway, looking everything but impressed. Something about the space bothered him, yet he couldn’t determine why. For you though, he smiled genuinely.

“Yeah, I think it it was made just for you,”

By the time you were done, exhaustion was heavy on you both. By now, the promised photo was long forgotten and you were on your porch, clinging onto your best friend in a tight embrace.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” He smiled, shaking his head as he once more expressed how early he had to be up for work. It was lucky he was in only the next town over, but it didn’t ease the lonely pit in your stomach as you watched him get into his car.

As Satoru drove away, his eyes glanced in the rearview mirror, watching as you waved him off. His attention wasn’t on you though, but on the looming presence of the house seeming to swallow your body.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna ryoumen x you #satoru gojo x reader #kinktober23 #multi fic #[ output—☆ ]#[ deadoves— ☆]

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sister-lucifer · 1 year

Note

are you gonna do more ticci toby x male reader? i really really juzt adore your writingz with him- and honeztly, the x male reader haz really helped me cope with feelingz and dyzphoria, zince i juzt dizcovered that i'll never be able to tranzition medically

it'z totally alright if you're not going to do more toby with male reader! i don't mean to prezzure you; they honeztly juzt make me zmile during a zeriouzly tough time.

Toby Cures Your Dysphoria REAL NOT CLICKBAIT

Ticci Toby x Trans Masc Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Toby reminds you that you are in fact a handsome boy:)

Content/Warnings: I guess implied reader dysphoria if that’s a warning? but like…Omg…guys…i think this is my first ever Toby fic to not have any real warnings. holy shit. oh my god. what the fuck

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Although I don’t normally write fem reader, i’d actually be very happy to write a trans fem version of this for all my trans sisters out there:) especially since pride month is coming up. maybe i could do an enby version too!

also, i see and love you fellow trans anon. id like to see you in my inbox more often if you have any requests. i’ll even assign you an anon emoji if you’ll let me:)

“C’mon, s-say it! Say it!” Toby pleaded, a crooked smile spread wide across his face. His fingers were interlaced with yours, pushing you back and forth playfully.

“Haha, no!” You replied with a giggle, “That sounds dumb!”

“But you h-have to! You haaaave toooo!”

“No way!”

Toby sighed dramatically, blowing a strand of messy brown hair out of his face. For a moment you thought he was going to give up, but since when did you know Toby to be anything but a stubborn hardass?

He pulled you in to his chest, taking you to the ground with him with a rather jarring thump.

“Ow, you dummy!” You yelped, wincing slightly from the impact, though you couldn’t help but return Toby’s ever-present grin.

“Eheh…Sorry! But it h-had to be done!”

He wrapped you into a tight bear hug, possibly using a bit more strength that he meant to, but it did the trick.

“I-I’m not letting you go until you s-say it!” Toby declared matter-of-factly. You quirked a brow at this, immediately attempting to free yourself. This proved less than pointless, and you were even a bit surprised at how strong such a lanky boy could be.

You huffed in frustration, resting your chin on his chest as you glared at him, though you both knew you could never really be mad at him. It seems it was time to admit defeat.

“Fiiiiine,” You groaned, “But you have to promise to let me go.”

“Cross my heart, h-hope to die.” Toby replied without missing a beat.

You were silent for a few moments, possibly debating all the life choices that brought you to this before you spoke:

“I’m…a handsome and capable young man.”

“Yes you are!” Toby added happily, squeezing you one last time before releasing you from his iron grip. You sat up quickly, crossing your arms while looking down at him with a feigned scowl.

“Whaaaat?” He drawled, “N-No lies were told!”

“What’s with you?” You demanded, “You’ve been all over me all day; telling me how handsome I am, how I’m ‘such a perfect boy’…Not that I’m complaining, but it came out of nowhere. What’s up?”

It was then that you saw Toby show the slightest hint of embarrassment for the first time. He looked away from you and toyed nervously with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Here…g-get off me so I can sit up, then I’ll t-tell you.”

You complied, watching him closely as you tried to figure out what could possibly be going through his head. He took your hands once he was sitting across from you, careful not to squeeze too hard. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds as he tried to find the right words to explain his thoughts.

“I just…I d-don’t want you to be too hard on yourself,” He began, pausing and allowing you to absorb his words before continuing. “You are a v-very handsome, capable young man, and I-I don’t want you to forget it. E-Even on the days when nothing in your closet m-makes you feel good or…or y-you have to cover your bedroom mirror with a-a blanket…”

Your gaze softened as he spoke, your hand floating up on its own to stroke his cheek. Not only had Toby been listening to you when you lamented about your struggles, he’d been observing you during them. As laid back and childish as Toby could be, he caught on to a lot more than he let show. It was moments like these that reminded you that underneath the unkempt hair and stained hoodie and scraped knees he was hiding some real emotional intelligence, especially when it came to you.

When he cared about something his instinct was to learn everything about it that he could. It just so happened that he cared about you the most, and there’s a lot of learning to be done about the feelings and thoughts another person.

You ruffled his hair with a soft smile which he quickly returned. There was no denying the hint of a blush that dusted his pale cheeks.

“Toby…” You called softly, “That…that means a lot. Thank you.”

He immediately lit up, pulling you into another tight hug. You hugged him back this time. He mumbled something behind your back, almost as if he was unsure if he wanted you to hear.

“What was that?” You asked, pulling away.

“I-I said…I love you, dummy.” His words were still a bit slurred, his eyes avoiding your gaze.

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and gave it a gentle pat.

“I love you too, dummy.”

#trans masc reader #male reader #trans reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta fluff #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby fluff #toby rogers

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babyyweebbitch · 2 years

Note

Hey! I really like your posts and stuff and I wondered if you could do a Yautja × Reader, any of them you want!

Maybe a what their reaction would be to the reader defending a Yautja Pup!

sure! thank u for ur request! also i have no idea what yautja call their or know what they look like, id imagine they all have their own big ass apartment with a whole back yard or something like that. also the size of the place depends if it’s a whole family or just one and since there are two (a yautja and a human) they have the big ass apartment with a back yard 😀 if that made any sense at all (this look a long ass time i’m sorry 🧍🏾‍♀️)

content warning : female reader (she/her pronouns used) ; HumanYautja relationship ; blood ; fighting ; limb being removed ;

y/n has lived on the ship for quite a long time after being taken in by a group of yautja as a child, she wasn’t a hunter obviously but she did work with everyone there quite well. she had hall sorts of non dangerous jobs such as medical duty, working with the weapons and technology, helped raising the younger yautja there and more! she was a great help to everyone.

her mate had brought their mutual friends small yautja pup to her to watch over while his parents were out hunting together one day. the day was going very smoothly, she helped him with plenty of stuff and even played a few games with him, having a fun day babysitting him.

“his parents should be back any time soon, it was a pretty short hunt due to his mother getting injured pretty badly” your mate told her, she picked up the young yautja and let him play with her hair, her hair was pretty long, fluffy and smelled pretty good. there were some dreads in her hair she let one of the young put in her hair while she was babysitting them a few days ago. she loved them so much that it’s now apart of her new style and will get a lot more

“oh god…. okay — i’ll take him to their home and i can tend to her wounds once she gets back.. i hope she’s okay” she said as she let the young yautja climb to her back and latch on while she walked around her own home to gather all of his things he had scattered around the place. once she had everything she put it all into a bag and went on her way. her and the young were talking the entire time she walked all the way across half the ship. she felt the presence of another yautja who wasnt her mate behind her so she turned around and one about to take the young. she backed away and she stared at them

“he’s not yours…. what are you doing?!” she said, she somehow got the yautja pup to get off her back and stand behind her, standing in front of him as if shielding him from the big predator

“he isn’t yours either, human scum! you have another’s young and i will return him to them” they reached out to grab her shoulder and pull her away from the pup but she instinctively turned and hugged the pup, using her own body as a shield to keep the yautja from hurting the pup

“stop it! i’m returning him home!” she said, the bigger yautja obviously didn’t care and tried to pry her away from the pup. after a while they finally got her off him and pushed her off. she fell on her butt and was pretty hurt from being pryed off the young. she watched them try taking the pup but he bit the side of their hand, damn near taking off their pinky and out of instinct they smacked him, causing him to fall to the floor and he started crying. she watched as all this happened and out of no where she grabbed the closet sharpest object near her and stabbed the bigger yautja in the back. they roared out in pain and she crawled to the pup, picking him up and trying to stop him from crying

“why you little piece of human scum! i will have your skull added to my collection!” they yelled, all she remembered seeing was them about to run and attack her so she protected the pup once again with her body, rather taking any hit, cut, bruise or even die than ever have this pup hurt or even killed because another yautja wouldn’t listen. once she didn’t feel any pain or being hit she looked up, seeing her mate fighting the yautja. it looked like watching two very angry wolves fighting over food. there was growling, blood, roaring and even one picking up the other and throwing them down.

she watched in terror for a few more seconds before going to check up on the pup, making sure he had no injuries or something. she got him to stop crying after a while. he wasn’t hurt too badly, he complained the side of his face hurt and that he was scared of the yautja. she held him and told him everything was okay now and that he was safe. she stood up still holding the pup close to her and she went to see if they were still fighting. her mate had won the fight but spared the yautjas life. he ended up taking their arm as a trophy instead of their head

“do not ever! and i mean ever! hurt her or that pup ever again! or next time you won’t be so lucky!” he yelled to them. she went over to calm him down a bit and checked over him to see if he had any injuries, he had a few minor cuts on his person so she handed the pup to him and went to go check on the yautja he had fought. her mate was curious as to why she was worried about them, they had tried to hurt her! maybe even have killed her if he didn’t get there when he did so why was she helping him

“why must you tend to them? they could have killed you!” he asked, letting the pup play with a shark tooth necklace he had around his neck. watching as she helped the yautja up

“it’s my duty to tend to anyone’s wounds. i am a nurse on the ship after all. i’m gonna take them to the actual doctor, please take the pup to his parents and tell the mother i will tend to her shortly!” she said as she guided the yautja to the infirmary and got him checked out by one of the fellow nurses there. she quickly explained what happened before she left to the pups home. her mate was very confused because they tried to kill her but yet she let herself over the pup and in the end even helped the yautja who attacked her…. he wish he was as kind as her to be able to help someone who just tried to kill him…

after a few minutes of walking she finally met her mate, the pup and the parents. the mother was sitting on the floor trying to stitch herself up but Y/N went to stop her and did it for her. the mother reached out for her son before realising something was off about his face, some side was red

“y/n…. what happened to my boy?” she asked before seeing how red her back was and there were a few cuts on her “what happened to you too?!” now she knew something was wrong…. she had a tendency to get very overprotective of her since they have known each other for a long time and have been through a lot together so obviously she grew protective

“i’m okay! i promise. these are just scratches but earlier some yautja thought i was taking him away but i was trying to explain that i was taking him home… they didn’t listen and attacked me, your son bit him which cause them to smack him, i stabbed them and then my mate came and took care of them — they’re in the infirmary right now” she explained “your son was very brave by the way! not even i have the confidence to bite one of you guys” she said, going on to take care of the next wound

“you stabbed them?” her mate asked…. he was shocked she did that, he knew she was a strong human but everyone he’s met before always ran away or something so he was shocked she did that “maybe you can start going on hunts with me, you have proven you are strong even with no combat training. i shall t—“

“i’m not hunting” she said, already knowing the lecture about going on hunts he was going to give her, he’s given her this lecture so many times she knows it word for word by now. after she had cut him off the father of the pup started to laugh very hard and loud, using a laugh he had memorised from a human

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” the father laughed with his arms crossed and everything

“she will give in one day! i just have to try harder and longer!” her mate protested, she shook her head and looked at him

“you’re not gonna convince me, dear” she said with a smile on her face. she went to the mothers back side and moved her long dreadlocks out the way to see a huge cut going across her back. she started to clean the wound and the mother would roar each time the cleaning stuff got inside her cut. “i know… i know it hurts…. just give me a few more seconds and i’ll stitch it up” she said in a calm and oddly comforting voice, the mother held in her urge to punch something until she was done with cleaning everything. after she was done and backed up a bit “okay now you can” she gave the mother the go ahead to punch the floor, which she did

she went to get the needle and thread and started stitching up the mothers back. while she did both of their mates watched this interaction between them…

“y/n is very kind…. is that usual for humans?” the mothers mate asked hers… he was confused as to why y/n was super nice even when she was threatened

“it’s usual for her…. other humans i’m not so sure about… she protected a young that wasn’t even hers… she risked her life for a child she didn’t even birth… she is amazing….” her mate said, not taking his eyes off her the entire time. he knew there was something about her he liked that he didn’t see up until that day…

this is so bad, i rushed the end tbh. and this also isn’t proof read or edited at all. ALSO, i do have a job now so pls don’t be upset if i dont do ur request right away or it takes a long time. during october is when i should be working a lot more because halloween so yeah!

#yautja #predator #yautja x y/n #yautja x reader #yautja headcannons #predator x y/n #predator x reader #predator headcannons #alien vs predator #prey 2022 #x reader #fem reader #x black reader #black writer

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burgycreeper405-blog · 1 year

Text

hello there

welcome to the pinned post

here we have the list of everything you wantes to know about the me myself and i

Commissions: open (dm me if interested)

here is my commissions sheet if you're interested in commissioning me

Art Trades: closed

Art Request: open 4 now

tho the rules are:

the art requests are mostly just gonna be in sketches, if you want fully detailed art, you can commission me if you want/nf

if you want a request, please state that you want a art request,, bcuz if not,, look I'm dumb okay? just be more specific please

no ocs (sorry)

aus are fine (tho pls send a reference 👍)

only the franchise im interested in (the list is down the below)

any ship in any franchise I'm in is fine as long as it's not the ones listed there in the dni list

there might be more to be added in the future but yeah 👍

down the below also has the everythin you need or just want to know so you better check it 👍

but before you do

this is for my and yours' comfort if you somehow have one or two or all of these

DNI If you:

- ship tac0m1c

- ship s0apm1c (on thin ice) ((you shippers can interact, but if you push your ship in my face, the ice will shatter))

- ship kn1fan (on thin ice) ((same goes here))

- hc knife and mic as siblings

- hc baseball and suitcase as father-daughter???? / infantalize suitcase

the basic DNI stuffs; Racist, being mean to people and tells them to "kys" or other mean things, etc. etc.

aight, now that you's done reading the dni list, time for the other chet

it's kinda simple and also kinda messy so bare with me here

you can call me Burgy and i is girl, but any pronouns is fine

my other socials are:

Instagram (@/burgycreeper405)

Youtube (@/burgycreeper405)

and no i don't have twitter, i used to, but no, twitter is like my toxic ex, so if you see me "post" on twitter, that's not me, that's probably a person acting as me but failed miserably

i have a dicsord server if you wanna join

the app i use to draw is Medibang Paint / Manga (the site lol) / Ibispaint on the ipad

to animate, i use Flipaclip on my phone

I am not in any fandoms cuz i am very ✨random✨

but draws one topic for a long while, but as time goes on, i go back to drawing random chet that i like and not just one thing

here are the lists of what I'm interested in (aka the things that I'll draw from most to least maybe)

• Inanimate Insanity (II)

• The Daily Object Show (TDOS)

• Trolls

• The Lego Movie

• Super Mario

• Undertale

• Cuphead

• Batim

i have more stuffs that i like but those 8 are the main, and I don't even really draw the other ones that much, but i like em, but i ain't telling em,, so yeah :P

i have a fun little ask blog for my AUs and stuff (tho it's just Lego movie aus) so if you're interested, it's this

@ask-burgys-tlm-aus

now that the simple stuff is done,,

it's time for the '🍩'(do not)s and other infos

• do not repost or reupload my stuff like put it in compilations and stuff, even if you credit me, do not repost/reupload my chet

• do not trace my art

• if i seem rude, that means i’m in a bad mood

• you can use my art as pfp or banners, just do not reupload/repost and or trace my stuffs

• if you dm-ed me/private message me, i won't answer it, especially if we're not even that close (unless it's for commissions then i will answer that lol) cuz either I'm awkward at starting conversations, or i just don't want to dm back, it's one of the two but it's mostly the former

• if you have questions, ask it in the ask box, it's there for a reason

• if you want to do fanart, then go ahead, no need to ask, just tag me, id love to see it

• keep in mind, i mostly have headcanons that are not the same as the popular ones cuz, not everyone will have the same hcs, shocker i know

• i don't do with popular chet so keep that in mind

• i hate shipping discourse cuz i find that stupid and a waste of time, especially when the ship they're fighting is not even that problematic as they say they are, so get that away from me cuz i don't want to deal with it

• i don't mind any ships (besides the ones on the red down below), I'm neutral with mostly any ships (again, besides the ones on the red down below), unless it's actually problematic like those age gaps and other chet? then that's a big no no for me, get that thing out of here, i don't want it

let's cut to the chase, yes, I'm fine with:

Rexmet (Rex x Emmet)

Rexmetstyle (Rex x Emmet x Lucy)

and i also ship

Microknife (Mic x Knife)

Knicropick (Knife x Mic x Pickle)

Metallic Salad (Mephone4 x Knife x Mic x Pickle)

if those info shocked you, then that's funny lol

if you suddenly hate me bcuz of that, then that's honestly a funny and stupid reason to hate me lol

tags that i use:

#burgy talks - just talking and or rambling about stuffs

#burg art - for art

#burgy comics - for the comics that i did cuz why not

#burgy games - for me gaming

#burgy sh1tpost - yes, it's a 1, not a misstype,, anyways, thats for jokes stuffs so i wont flood the burgy talks or art tag that much

me personas (i don't have a good ref sheet for them three)

me but object

sun micro4 content

aight, i think thas all, some of these may or may not change in the future

but yeah, thas all, thanks for reading

#burgy talks #burg art #burgy comics #burgy games #burgy sh1tpost

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valyalyon · 26 days

Text

August 8, 2028 - April 3, 2029

Previous Post | Next Post DIE MASTER LIST OR #LYONDIE DIVIDERS

CW: dead dove do not eat, domestic violence, mentions of drug addiction, dub con, smut, references to pregnancy loss. Explicit language. MDNI. 4.1K words.

August 8, 2028.

My friends hadn’t known that I was pregnant, we hadn’t told anyone, so when they invited Raphael and I to go to dinner with them for my 28th birthday, I agreed for us.

When he got home from work I told him. He wasn’t pleased, but he agreed, and called his mom over to stay in the house while the kids slept.

We arrived to dinner and greeted our friends at the table. Julius took Raphael’s attention away and the two men started to chat, while Natalie and Catalina began to shower me in love and compliments.

“I love that dress on you,” my 6 foot tall Catalina commented, spinning me in a full circle with her hand.

“Look at her ass,” Natalie added in a whisper to Cat.

The dress was skin tight and red. I guess I was lucky I didn’t gain much weight by week 19, most of the pounds had gone to my already fat ass.

I blushed and laughed with them, finally sitting down beside Raphael.

Raphael was wearing some black dress pants and a red button down, with his sleeves rolled up his arms. His muscles were out on display, but Julius was also showing off, instead in light pants and a blue button down.

The waiter came by and took drink orders.

“Whiskey,” Raphael nonchalantly ordered.

“A shot of Vodka, please,” Julius addressed the waiter, then turned his face to Raphael, “like our high school party nights… Back when we were drinking five vodka shots at a time.”

“Actually, let me change that. I’ll take three shots of vodka,” my arrogant husband updated his order.

“A margarita for me, please,” Cat added.

“Um… one long island ice tea,” Nat smiled at the waiter.

“Can I have a Mai Tai, please,” I finished.

We were all IDed with the waiter commenting on my birthday, “Happy birthday, pick a dessert or two and I won’t add it to the tab.”

I thanked him, while he dismissed himself.

Within a few minutes, he was back with all the drinks, interrupting our mindless chit-chatting.

“Birthday girl has to have her drink first,” he commented, placing my drink in front of me, and then passing out the remaining drinks quickly. He was there and gone in less than thirty seconds.

I was sipping my drink with the girls while they did the same, when Raphael and Julius finished their shots.

Again after only a few minutes, the waiter returned to take everyone’s food order. We went through this a bit slower, but he left as soon as his repeat of the order was confirmed by everyone.

Before I could return to my conversation with the girls, a laugh from Raphael caught my attention, I turned my eyes to him, “hm?”

Raphael was leaning into the table so everyone could hear him as he spoke to me, “you never get tired of being the center of attention do you? Especially when men come around.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked him outright, my anger seeping through me.

He just chuckled, and then added, “oh, birthday girl, I’ll do anything for you, birthday girl… And you’re just eating it up, aren’t you?”

The girls were looking back and forth between themselves as I was getting angrier with my husband, “are you seriously starting this in front of our friends?”

“You’re right, we’ll resolve this at home. Sorry to interrupt your girl time,” he rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Julius.

I was annoyed so I turned to the girls and said, “I’m sorry about him, ever since he decided to start mixing speed and alcohol, he gets like this now.”

Raphael turned his attention to me as Catalina started speaking, “you’re joking right?”

I looked into my husband’s black eyes, they were furious and his hand went to my thigh, digging his fingers in.

I turned back to Natalie and Catalina, “yeah. I am.”

“How has our favorite little family been? We haven’t seen any of you since Eden’s birthday in April…” Natalie spoke up, her eyes on mine.

I tore my eyes away from Nat as my husband’s grip on my thigh got tighter, “we’ve been okay… not entirely. Four days ago, I miscarried our son.”

“Dolores!” the girls voices rang out together, snapping me back to them.

Both of them were teary-eyed, reaching their hands across the table for me, Cat went first, “How have you been handling it?”

“I haven’t been,” I told her honestly, and then the waiter came over with all the food.

Dinner was an uneventful blur after that, as I refused to acknowledge my miscarriage anymore. I shut down and participated in vague festivities.

He brought out the dessert with a birthday candle in mine, the staff all sung along with my friends and husband.

I faded into the seat, wanted to cry and disappear, but I kept smiling through it all.

As I blew out my candle, Raphael gave me a kiss on the lips, and I tasted the liquor on his tongue. Why, love? Why?

I drank more that night than I had in years, eventually six glasses sat empty to the side of me.

…

The way the room turned when we got home. The kids weren’t there, sleeping instead at Raphael’s mom’s home.

I’m glad they were.

Because as soon as we got home…

You wanted me sadder.

It all devolved.

“Why do you always start something around my friends? Are you trying to prove something? I just don’t understand your logic,” I told him, when he slammed the door shut behind us.

I crossed my arms as he turned around to face me, he was over a foot taller than me, and he was double my size. He already proved he was able to hurt me, but I didn’t want to believe it. Or maybe, I just wasn’t afraid of the man I loved.

I couldn’t fear him, even when he pushed me against the wall hard enough that the house shook with shock.

“Don’t you fucking break something you fucking druggie!” I slurred my words, unfortunately being drunk didn’t help me make my argument.

“Why would you say that in front of your friends?” He asked heatedly, then he tossed me to the ground.

My hands instinctively went down to catch myself and I was able to stand pretty quickly, but this only made him more angry. He kicked me behind the knee to the ground.

When I landed on my knees he kicked me in the back, pressing his foot and body weight to my lower back.

“Ow!” I whined out, wriggling beneath his weight, “you’re a fucking piece of shit human, Raphael! I hope you know that.”

“Am I?” Raphael asked, with his eyebrows raised, he was getting down onto the ground. He replaced his foot with his knee and knelt on my lower back.

He pulled my dress up over my ass and started to smack it real hard, “you have something in your blood that tells you to disrespect me.”

“Fuck you, are you going to spew on a racist tirade now about how Cubans and Mexicans are too different and I need to be beaten into shape?” I screamed from where I was pinned.

“If so, spare me the fucking speech, my God,” I begged, putting my hands in a prayer position by moving onto my side slightly.

Raphael punched me in the face.

It was one hard punch in the nose, and I felt the blood spilling down my face immediately. The blood exploded onto the floor beneath my face.

I moaned through my pain, complaining out loud, “Raphael, you broke my nose… you broke my nose, you psychopath…”

“It’s not my fault,” Raphael came to my face, his lips pressing to mine.

He flipped me onto my back, he held me down with his body weight on mine, his face pressed to my bloody one, “te adoro, mi tesoro. You know that, you know that I adore you… you’re mine…”

“You fucking broke my nose,” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face, “are you not going to apologize?”

“You know I’m sorry, amor,” Raphael promised, kissing my lips and tears while continuing to invade my mouth.

“I never meant to hurt you, Lola,” Raphael helped me to my feet.

He led me to the bathroom where he cleaned the blood off my face as I continued to cry. When he reached for the first aid kit, I looked at my knees because they were hurting.

Sure enough, my knees were red and starting to bruise from when Raphael pushed me.

Wearing nothing but the summer bruises on my knees…

I started to shake in between sobs, choking out, “why do you do this to me, Raphael? Why? I’m the mother of your children, what is wrong with you?”

His eyes softened as I looked into them, an expression of pain filling his face, “yeah… so much is wrong with me, actually…”

“How long, Raphael?” I cried out, getting on my knees to hug his legs and sob.

He reached down for me, holding onto me as he crouched down. He didn’t kneel all the way down, still towering over me, his hand touching my wet cheeks, “how long what?”

“How long have you been taking speed? I saw you when we came back from the hospital,” my voice trembled as I spoke.

“December 2025 — when we went to the Caribbean. Julius gave me one of his prescription pills and I liked how it made me feel so I started using for parties. I used on and off but stopped for a while after Eden was born and started again for my birthday.”

“You need to stop,” I told him, “you’re not the man I married when you’re on it. You’re violent and cruel.”

“Okay, I will… I hate hurting you, Dolores. I love you,” and he kissed me as he said it, but I felt the blood starting to trickle from my nose again.

I know that we’ve got problems, I plan to address them another day…

December 18, 2028.

For months, he was good on his word and the physical violence during fights almost entirely disappeared. On our four year wedding anniversary, he told me that he had invited friends over for a vow renewal. He asked me to wear my wedding dress.

Somehow, despite years of pregnancies, the dress still fit. I didn’t do much to my hair except make sure that none of my curls looked knotted, and then I applied red lipstick.

Everyone was dressed up in formal dresses or suits, with Natalie and Catalina wearing the same dresses from the wedding.

Once I was standing in front of Raphael, I noticed he had decided to wear the same suit, except this time he had no tie, his jacket was open, and his shirt wasn’t fully buttoned.

I see in technicolor, maybe I’ll take my glasses off so I stop painting red flags green.

He took my hands in his and I fell in love with him even more as he spoke. He had added all three of the kids into his vows, his smile absolutely blowing me away as he promised me the world — much like that winter day four years ago.

I was lost in the heat of the moment, the words escaping me as I read my own vows in front of everyone. Raphael’s smile never wavered, his grip on my hand was tight and warm.

By the end of that, Raphael was kissing me while everyone applauded us and cheered.

We walked together into the group but separated within a few seconds to interact with our friends. I went to my friends, and it was immediately after the girls hugged me that Catalina asked, “Dolores, are you happy?”

I was confused as I looked at my oldest friend, “Of course… why?”

“You don’t look the way you did on your wedding day,” Natalie mentioned, touching my hair, “there’s something in your eyes.”

My friends don’t know how bad it gets, I’m out here…

Raphael came through the crowd, laughing with his friends as he took my arm and pulled me away from the girls. He spun me and brought me into his arms to kiss me in front of everyone.

I smiled up at my husband, trying to forget what my friends had said for a moment.

Raphael was on fire, and when everyone left, he turned and kissed me in the entry way of the house, “Let me take off your wedding dress.”

I nodded my head up at him, kissing him back.

He led me to the bedroom and stood behind me, tossing his jacket down on a seat beside the bed. He started to untie my dress from the back, and his hands were as hot as I loved them.

My body trembled as the dress came off my body and I stood there braless with lacey white panties. He touched my lower body with his burning hands, and then he spanked my ass, bending me over onto the bed.

I moaned and held onto the sheets, as I felt him start to trace his fingers along my panty line. He tugged on them, taking them off my body, then slipping two fingers immediately into my pussy.

“Raphael…” I gasped, my head turning slightly to try and see him.

He held onto my hair and buried my face into the sheets, “shh… don’t make a sound. The kids are asleep…”

“Mmm…” I bit back my moans, my body trembling against his fingers.

Within just a few seconds, he replaced the fingers with his cock. It was rock hard and I was red hot, I felt my world spinning around me as he rammed himself all the way in.

“Fuuuck, Raphael…” it actually hurt a little, I came to realize, but I couldn’t stop moving my ass to meet his thrusts.

He put my legs up on the bed, and continued to thrust into me from a better angle, his hand squeezing onto my hips. He was so angry, all of a sudden — I could feel it. Especially, when his free hand slammed down to spank my ass.

“Aaa,” I felt myself beginning to drool, as the feeling of his power came over me. He was so sexy, even messily dressed like my husband. I love him…

He grabbed all my hair with the same free hand that spanked me, and he pulled it back really hard as he thrusts got harder, “do you like that? Be quiet! Shut it… the kids, Lola… calm it…”

I was breathing out into the sky, my head being pulled back by his strong hand. I reached a hand up to my mouth, covered it up, and moaned, my eyes swooning along.

He let go of my hair and eventually flipped me over onto my back. Still, we were just at the foot of the bed. He stood, and plowed into me, facing me.

He wouldn’t break eye contact as he started another fight.

His thrusts slowed for a second, “Why were you and my boss talking next to the girls? Were you starting something with my boss? It seemed very private.”

“He was congratulating us,” I responded, annoyed, moving my hips along his cock, trying to encourage him, “no one is like you, Raphael… why do you think I’m interested in anyone else?”

“He’s an old man, you’re my gorgeous wife… Screw me for not wanting people like that around you,” Raphael spitefully spoke, but he continued his thrusts, this time though he was hurting me even more.

I didn’t know what to do, I was melting into it, moaning and staring up at him with sweet eyes. “Raphael… why are you so jealous? Why?”

“You’re always ready to be fucked,” he expressed angrily, pinching my nipples even as I tried to push his hands away from them, “you had nothing under your dress. Stupid…”

“Fuuuck, stop! Don’t touch me there… ahhh…” I was trembling, moving along his cock though, my pussy wetter than ever.

“You wanted that? Didn’t you… You wanted to be fucked by somebody else at this party… Who the fuck was it? Who were you naked for, slut?” Raphael started escalating, his voice getting meaner. He slapped my face, very lightly at first.

I didn’t even think he had meant it, I thought he was just joking. So I teased, “who do you think, big guy?”

He slapped me across the face real hard this time, enough to where I called out in surprise, “hey!”

“Fuck as if I know. There were too many men there, and you don’t have a type, you’ll take whatever you can get,” he said it so spitefully, but continued his aggressive thrusts.

Each one was reaching into my stomach, and I was moaning desperately, kissing him and trying to get him to get over it. But his fingers crept up around my neck, and he started to squeeze real hard as he continued to kiss me.

“I could fucking kill you,” he whispered against my lips as his grip got so tight that I thought I was seeing different colors in my vision, “I could fucking kill you… you know that, why?”

His thrusts didn’t stop, not for a second. I was lost in all the pleasure, my eyes dimmed, my skin got light, but I kissed him back every time he kissed me.

When he loosened his grip, I moaned, “Raphael… daddy… please… take it easy on me. You’re being so mean.”

I felt his fingers pull off my neck, and he pulled out. I thought it was over, but he sat down on the love seat by the bed, and he spoke, “come here.”

“What if I don’t? You’re going to hurt me, I know that,” I told him, standing up from the edge of the bed and starting to back up.

Before I could even run, he had me by the arm. I struggled against him, only for him to pull me up off the ground, and onto his hard cock. He slid me down, and I moaned as he walked me over to the love seat.

As I started to struggle again, he quickly took charge and made it clear to me that I wasn’t escaping him until he came. He made himself comfortable in the seat, and started thrusting up to meet me very quickly.

My breasts bounced along with each thrust, and at first he suckled on them happily and gingerly. Then he quickly started to bite a little more, suck and leave hickeys all over them.

I clutched onto him, “stop leaving hickeys…” I tried to pull away, but he pulled me right back on, harshly.

Tell me that nobody else touches you like I do, like I do, oh, tell me that nobody else touches you like me.

“Why? So another man can use your body instead of me? I’m your husband. This is mine,” he touched all over my body, sucking on my breasts and slamming my pussy down on his thrusting cock.

“I’m all yours but I won’t be able to wear tank tops if you leave hickeys all over my breasts,” I explained, riding him and moaning as I did.

“Maybe you shouldn’t even be wearing anything that shows your body,” he finally said, wrapping his hands around my throat as he aggressively thrusted up into me, “have some respect for me… Even your wedding dress… The slit? Off the shoulder? Did you do all of that the first time to seduce Julius?”

He was squeezing too tight for me to respond, so I only moved my hips along with his thrusts. His aggression was hard to match but I wouldn’t be put to shame by him.

He released one hand from the suffocating grip, but this hand smacked my face real hard. He hadn’t hit me that badly since before my birthday.

Finally, he groaned, his thrusts slamming all the way up to my cervix, “fuuuck… I’m cumming, take it, Lola…”

Is it sad that I still came with him? I trembled against my husband as he finished inside my body, I happily took every drop. Even though he had just hit me, I forgave him… I had to…

Undated diary entry, presumed to be between December 2028 and April 2029:

How did I start to forgive him for everything?

He hits me every few days, my kids have heard or caught glances. It’s weird how everything has changed, suddenly.

He says no to therapy, he says no to rehab, he says using doesn’t make him a bad person, he says… so many things. I’m tired of listening to all of it, but I never stop loving him.

I excuse it to myself: he’s never been violent right in front of the kids and they don’t seem to understand.

April 3, 2029.

On this day, they understood.

Eden is two, her hair is curly and goes to her shoulders. Her eyes are dark like her father’s, but she’s got my eye shape. She sits on her own having her dinner, her big brothers sit on either side of her.

I smile when I see them all together, they’re growing up so fast. Theo’s blue eyes meet mine from across the table and he smiles at me. After smiling back at my eldest, I turned my attention to my middle, my honey-eyed Leon.

Our eyes were reflections of each other, we were very similar, but sometimes he was too serious. For him, I made a face, making him laugh quickly.

My eyes went to my youngest again, and her dark eyes were smiling up at me. She had a big grin on her face and was trying to explain that my joke was funny, “mama… Leon…”

That’s when the door opened, and Raphael came storming in. I don’t know, to this day, what he was thinking that day.

“HOLY FUCK!” Raphael screamed at the entry way of the house, followed by slamming the door shut.

The whole house shook, and Eden bounced, her eyes widened. Leon looked startled, but he was protective of his sister and had turned to her instinctively. Theo’s eyes had widened and he turned his attention to the hall, “dad?”

He rushed into view, and when he saw me, his eyes were full of rage. He came at me in front of the kids and next thing I know, I’m on the ground staring up at Raphael.

He punched me in the face multiple times, I don’t know why — I don’t get it to this day. I don’t know if he was planning on stopping, but he only pulled away when Theo rushed behind him.

Theo hit Raphael’s leg multiple times, and Leon screamed from his chair, “GO AWAY DAD!” He was hiding his sister with his little arms.

Theo shoved Raphael away from me, stepping in between us and hugging me tightly, “stop it! If you’re going to hit my mama, you have to hit me first!”

Something must have snapped in Raphael, because he sobered up, apologizing, “I didn’t mean to hit your mama, Theo, I’m sorry.”

“You hit mama a lot!” Theo turned to him so angrily, I’d never seen a five year old so pissed off, especially not my happy-go-lucky Theo, “Look at her! You’re a mean father.”

Raphael, I guess attempting to calm the kids down, went over to Eden and picked her up, “come on, everyone, it’s okay… it wasn’t something you should take seriously.”

Eden hadn’t made a sound since her dad came in, but now — in Raphael’s arms — she started to scream at the top of her lungs. She pushed, cried, and hit him with little balled up fists, “down!”

He listened and put her down in her seat, Eden’s eyes were full of tears and she ran over to hug me. I pulled her into my arms, along with Theo, but Leon was staring at his dad.

Leon’s eyebrows were furrowed angrily and he was just staring at his dad, “don’t touch me. We’re not friends.”

Raphael sighed and walked away to calm down. Leon quickly jumped off the chair and ran over to me once he was gone.

All three of my kids burst into tears and I just held them. Why did he do this?

Stressful day today actually ~ In other news, this post took me soo long to write! Hope everyone enjoyed it <3 I know it ends abruptly but that's fine... The next post will be for (at least) April 4, 2029 and we're going to get a resolution to this last incident.

SONG REFERENCES Fishtail by Lana del Rey Asylum by Elijah Blond Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat by Del Water Gap

#dub con #tw dv #yandere #bully #jealousy #dead dove do not eat #smut #writeblr #lyondie #bluestlyon #booklr #dark romance #original story #creative writing #literature

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taakosleftshoe · 2 years

Text

Welcome to my big log.

About me:

My main blog is @moreclaypigeons

my art blog is @sierraveree-art

I run @tazsapphicweek

I have listened to all of the TAZ campaigns!

My favorite is probably Ethersea but like also Balance<3 and STEEPLECHASE!!!

I try to upkeep the wiki, and am an admin there. You can find that at adventurezonewiki.miraheze.org, and our blog is @adventurezonewiki , where you can send any and all questions!

I love to draw and write, but I definitely draw a lot more lol

AO3: Taakosleftshoe

My most grateful moments with the TAZ include going to the San Diego & San Jose liveshows, and having Justin and Griffin answer my questions in the Ethersea Wrap-up TTAZZ!

If you want me to tag anything just lmk!

Proudest posts:

Convincing Justin to GM

WIP I wanna sort this better and update my tags 😔😔

A look at my umbrastaff ft taako cosplay

Being a catalyst of the infamous pants post

beary bluejeans

nanofather essay

Tags:

[I’m still working on getting all of these applied to posts I made before having this kind of system. also this is like 100% for me lol]

#barry queuejeans - my queue tag! if i've queued a post, or more likely, a reblog, i will add that tag and u will know i was not online just then. it helps keep the ecosystem going.

#srb or #self reblog

#favs - my favs

#sierra speaks - me talking

#a sierra original - a post that’s mine!

#my art

#ask game - did an ask game :D

#fic ref - I’m saving for reference for a fic

#writing tag - my writing

#to id: I still need to add image ID's

#tbr to be read/come back to later

#ref - reference, use for later

#taz playlists - when i talk about playlists!!! i love them!

#other people's fics - i have on occasion mistagged these without the apostrophe. my bad

#friends art

#thank you for the ask! - if i've answered an ask, it should show up here!

#not taz - if im talking about something thats not taz, it ends up here. and you may think oh sierra this is a taz blog why would you-- i do what i want. jk it is probably smth about fandom or my time creating art for fandom or smth

#headcanons - dont use this tag enough so sorry guys

#discord??? i forget my tag tbh

#ttazz spoilers - im unhinged. if u didnt want the the adventure zone zone spoiled LMAO

Campaign specific tags (i don't often do character tags. but sometimes)

Steeplechase

#taz steeplechase

#taz steeplechase spoilers - SPOILER TAG block if u are not prepared

#steeplechase bingo - there is a steeplechase bingo card i am filling out as i listen. it SHOULD??? be tagged this?

Ethersea

#ethersea ref - see above

#ethersea environment ref

#the adventure zone ethersea - usually only on original posts. not consistent

#taz ethersea spoilers - I try to always mark ethersea spoilers with this. so filter it if you’re not caught up!

otherwise, spoilers in: #taz e spoilers

#taz ethersea - originals and reblogs will typically contain this one

#taz e - less common but will use if i’m rushing?

#amber gris

#devo la main

#zoox

#oksamber (aka bubbanana) amber and kodira (oksana)

Balance

#the adventure zone balance

#taz balance spoilers

#taz balance

#it's taako! you know! from tv! - my taako tag

#magnus burnsides

#merle highchurch - ok so i dont use it that much

#blupjeans - barry and lup

#taakitz - taako and kravitz

#magnulia - magnus and julia

#a taag if you will - taagnus tag (get it)

#lucretia and taako - they make me emotional. what can i say

i also have a tag for every arc, pretty much. theyre not consistently added cause i decided to do them later: #### #eleventh hour # #stolen century # #post story and song

Amnesty

Graduation

Dust

Design reference (aka when I see a design I like for a character) (WHY DO I HAVE SO MANY TAGS HERE)

#design ref

Steeplechase

#montrose design

#emerich design

#beef design

Ethersea

#amber gris design

#amber design

#devo design

#zoox design

#oksana design

#urchin design

#blinkshark design

Balance

#taako design

#kravitz design

#merle design

#magnus design

#lucretia design

#lup design

#barry design

#voidfish design

#davenport design

#julia design

Amnesty

#aubrey design

#indrid design

Dust

#indrid design

#augustus parsons design

#callan design

#lulu design

Graduation

#argo design

#firbolg design

#fitz design

#rainer design

#sierra speaks

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e-102 · 11 months

Note

hi I don't know you but it seems like you're getting the mass bot followings too?? when I check their following lists it seems to be the same group of users they're following every time... these users all seem to post in some capacity about atsv. I've set my blog to be hidden from the web and search results but the bots still keep following me. I'm not sure where all of them are coming from, do you have any tips?

yes indeed i’ve been dealing with that for the past week. i’m sorry this isn’t very helpful but i’ve blocked every single one that followed me, and i think it’s the best course of action.

when i let too many go by id start getting more bot interaction, like them reblogging my posts and adding malicious links. they’ve stopped and started back up a couple times but after 3 days the worst had passed. maybe you could try password protecting your blog for a couple days until it dies down?

i had to block around 7000 or more bots and counting. good luck, i wish i could help more :(

#asks #non anon #fishgirlautism

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stressed-chaos · 2 years

Text

Memories - Part 19

I'm so sorry, I've not been getting any time to post! This one is terribly long and late.

As always, hope this part is nice! Comments are appreciated!

If anyone wants to be added in the tag list, then can let me know in the comments!

Warnings: Descriptive nightmare, language, mentions of stabbing, sword and knife, mentions of being sick and screaming, food, a cheesy chapter, mentions of falling, kidnapping

The sun shining brightly in the sky formed two hands and a bucket of water with its rays and poured it on Ben’s head. Kidding. The sun’s ascent in the sky and spreading light everywhere did wake him though. He really should close the curtains on that fucking window. He squirmed and tried to face the other side, but found his hands locked with something. It was enough to bring the memories of last night and a smile crept on his face. His thought soon turned to, Is she alright?

He remembers when they woke up the same way in that hospital and the almost kiss, respectfully stopping before he could. This time though, he could, couldn’t he? She came to him after a nightmare, she trusted him enough to comfort her after a night scare. He was proud of that emotional intimacy. Thinking that, he leaned forward and pecked her cheek, still keeping his lips close to her cheek. Even if she was his, he would still respect her boundaries. He felt her stir and swiftly moved moved away from her pretending to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake,” her voice rang through the room and Ben could hear the shit eating grin she had.

“Guilty,” he put his hands up. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah…yeah I’m good. Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to be thankful about.”

“No, no. Thank you for yesterday.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that either. I’ll always be there, alright? And if you’re ever ready to talk about it, you can always talk to me.”

Y/N nodded and leaned to peck his cheek, but at the last moment decided to kiss his forehead too. “So, you’re like my therapist? I thought you only had a degree in literature.”

“I’m just a great listener—wait how did you know that?”

Their friend.

His face fell. S’alright, she’ll remember. It’s not Christmas for a miracle to happen anyway. Speaking of that, Y/N got up and opened the window, taking in the view outside. The cold wind entered their abode and the man in bed shivered, pulling the covers tighter over him. He was wrapped in a blanket burrito with just his eyes visible causing her to gasp when she turned back and Ben to laugh. She rolled her eyes muttering ‘You little shit’ and hit him with a pillow before getting out and going to the kitchen.

Ben stayed a few more moments enjoying the domestic bliss and got dressed. He came out to see in the kitchen, to see Y/N making hot chocolate while Padfoot ate his meal soundly beside her. A perfect start for a perfect day. But she was looking for something, which Ben assumed was chocolate. It was on a higher shelf so he offered to pick it up, his chest pressed against her back. He tried to keep the effect of this interaction on him to normal, but his love knew him better than he did, even while not knowing him at all.

“Nervous Mr.Barnes?”

“What do I have to be nervous about, Ms.Parker?”

“Me.”

Ben was too stunned to reply. Y/N just laughed and continued on with her task, making the perfect hot chocolate for them, and filling her cup with marshmallows to the point where he wasn’t sure if it even had hot chocolate in it anymore, while he pet Pads on the head.

The phone ringing brought him back to Earth from the planet ‘How it would be like to kiss Y/N’s marshmallow coated lips.’ Ben went to hand it to her, but seeing the caller ID, he decided to pick it up himself.

“Hey sister. Remember me?”

“Don’t know about her, but your brother-in-law remembers you well.”

“Oh hello Barnes. How are you?”

“I’m good. Didn’t know you were an early worm.”

“The cat woke me up. How’s Y/N?”

“She’s good, making hot chocolate for us.”

“I miss those marshmallows.”

Ben laughed, “Come over then. We’ll make another cup for you.”

“Sorry. I have to cancel, got a little stuff to do.”

And he abruptly hung up. Ben, though a little confused, texted him their address, anyway. He found her on the couch watching tv, occasionally sipping her cup. That was fast, almost as she moved at the speed of sound. He propped down on the couch beside her, not-so-subtly adjusting himself to be close to her. Y/N sensed that and with eyes not leaving the tv, she snuggled to his side, immediately being engulfed by his warmth. She noticed her increased heartbeat was in sync with her cuddle buddy.

Ben adjusted himself so she was lying in between his legs, with her head resting peacefully in the space between his stomach and chest. He was grinning like an idiot, but was too elated to care about anything except having her in his arms. Moments like these made everything go smooth in a fine line. He could pretend, just this once, that the last year didn’t happen without a care in this world and it was all a decoy someone was plotting just cause they were bored.

Nothing else mattered for them in those moments, but each other. Time was a constant in this black hole, and they were both here, away from all the awful around them and in their little safe haven.

They released a content sigh, but got too embarrassed to say anything about it. Y/N asked him about something he would like to watch but he was too distracted by her eyes, her lips, her freckles, everything about her basically, to notice it. Shrugging, she flicked through songs until she landed on one of her favorites.

Ben was brought out of his obvious staring by the opening melody of Sign of the times filling their surroundings. The girl’s eyes were fixated on the tv and he should’ve been jealous, but he knew there was nothing between them, the real reason hiding from his sight.

Y/N’s eyes grew wide and she felt like she was thrown through a portal into the place from her night terror. She wasn’t sure if she was asleep, awake or somewhere in between. She saw Harry’s lips moving but they did not form the words they were supposed to, instead, the same Russian accent came out.

I’m going to get you.

Words were echoing in her head like a broken tape recorder. She saw the same pair of green eyes and heard a groaning sound before a hand reached towards her with a sword sized knife. She could make out light coming from somewhere, forming a pennywise smile. She tried to look away but it was as if all the force of this universe wanted her to see it coming towards her maliciously. This time, the person was smart enough to stuff a piece of cloth in her mouth.

She heard a muffled shouting of a faint “Noooo” being repeated with fear. Her eyes went wide when a light suddenly flickered on her side and she was looking into a pair of deep black eyes.

Before the green eyed pennywise could attack her, the black eyed person sprang from their place and pushed her away. She let out an oomph after hitting the floor and was engulfed in a familiar scent. She noticed she was free of those cuffs and the rag was surprisingly gone. Seeing a bloody knife making its way towards them she screamed and jumped in front of the dark eyed person, turning back slightly to see their face–

“Come back. Love, come back to me,” her name was being spoken in hushed whispers.

And she was back in the living room. The song was paused, the screen not focusing on the singer. Instead, she was met with the same dark eyes, but they held a little fear, panic and as always, adoration. The blurred face became clear and she recognized Ben, whose forehead was bleeding, causing her to look away. She heaved a sigh and gained some courage to look again, hand involuntarily reaching towards the wound, not finding any red liquid. Her tear dam broke and she latched himself to her comfort like a baby koala wanting its mother to protect it. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, practically sitting on his lap and tears soaking his shirt. Ben kept repeating comfort words in her ears, interrupting with occasional hums of her favorite song, effectively calming her down.

Y/N’s sobs grew quiet and she mumbled, “I thought I lost you. Don’t—don’t leave me please.”

“Love, I would never leave you. I promise we will always stick together. You can’t lose me even if you tried.” My heart won’t be with me if I ever set sail away from you. I would always return to you, my harbor, he was both content on keeping these thoughts to himself, for now.

Maybe one day, when everything is alright.

Y/N’s nightmares continued as the days progressed. They weren’t any worse, the same one repeating over and over. Sometimes she would pass snarky remarks over to the green-eyed person or sometimes she would feel just helpless. She hadn’t been able to see who the green-eyed person was but she was sure of the other prisoner. She had still not told the worried man of his full involvement in her terrors. She assured him everyday that he wasn’t the cause for them, instead, he was the comfort. Ben was visibly upset sometimes, and he thought she hadn’t noticed but she did not want to burden him even more. He suggested seeing a therapist, knowing how important it was to talk about all the scares in her head. They hadn’t reached any conclusion on that yet.

The pair was going to the store down the street with Padfoot sauntering ahead. Pads was wagging its tail, clearly excited about their weekly trip to the store, while they were comversing among themselves, while keeping an eye on that overenthusiastic fur ball ahead of them.

“Is that my beanie?” Y/N mused, looking over at the blue beanie comfortably resting on Ben’s head.

“Is that my jacket?”

“You can’t prove it Barnes.”

“Actually–” He moved to reach for the back collar of the jacket playfully. “It’s ours.”

“The beanie too?”

He nodded, making Y/N’s face lite up.

The lady made a dash for the candy section, looking like a kid on Christmas morning, while Ben went on to find some groceries. She noticed a man approaching her when she couldn’t reach the top shelf. Stiffening unconsciously, she was about to move away when the man reached to the top shelf and handed out the peanut butter jar she was trying to reach. Her eyes darted between his hand and face. Accepting the jar, she thanked him and went to find her companion.

Ben was holding a packet of cheese in each hand, examining it closely, maybe to check for poison, when he heard Y/N call out his name and saw a hand reach out in his peripheral vision to take one packet from his hand and put it in the basket.

“Got all the healthy stuff you needed Barnes?”

“Got all the candy you needed Parker?”

She nodded before walking by his side.

The sky was darkling by the time they had decided on the therapist thing, deciding to finally see one after a lot of convincing from Ben. They had asked Seb for advice and it was opted that she would visit her by the end of this week. They had dropped Pads off at Ben’s parents house earlier that day, since they were both about to go back on their jobs.

Despite Y/N’s protests of letting her help, Ben was preparing their meal while she had her legs propped up on the loveseat, reading a book. She let out an occasional laugh or gasp and Ben was just fondly admiring from the kitchen, keeping a side eye on the food. She had not changed out of his jacket, reasons being ‘it was extra warm and smelled nice.’ He just loved seeing her in his clothes, even if it was just a cap. She always looked better in them than he did, in his opinion and hence, Y/N’s closet was more than half filled with his clothes. They sadly came back to him when Sebastian arranged their stuff around the house. Whenever he brought clothes though, they were always labeled as ‘theirs’. He also occasionally stole one of her oversized shirts and usually took them with himself when he went filming.

Chuckling to himself, he went and pulled one of his Queen hoodies and gave them to her, claiming that the jacket might be too uncomfortable at home. Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/N accepted the hoodie and quickly changed herself, thanking him and nuzzled her nose on her shoulder side, basking in the smell. She asked him again if he wanted any help and when he shook his head, she sighed and continued her reading.

Ben called her for dinner when she was about to finish her book and she hastily put a bookmark on the correct page, sprinting towards the dining room, eager to taste his cooking. He hadn’t cooked anything lavish but the meal he made sure tasted delicious. Y/N moaned when the flavors exploded in her mouth before complimenting him profusely, saying something along the lines of, “I could kiss you for this,” to which she didn’t notice Ben’s grin, too busy wolfing down all the food. She let out a contented hum and moved to peck his cheek, true to her words.

Swallowing her food with a gulp, she asked Ben one question that had been lingering in the back of her mind. “Can I ask you something?”

Ben nodded, with his mouth full.

“Did I have any partners?”

And Ben almost choked on his food. Fortunately he was able to get himself together just in time. “What do you mean?”

“Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Fiancee? Wife? Husband?” she began listing off. “You see, since I kind of cannot remember some things…I wanted to know if I had forgotten a partner or not.”

Now was his chance. He can tell her. It would be alright. “I know what a partner is. You —don’t have a partner. Single through and through.”

And he blew it.

“You’re…happy?” He let out in a suspicious tone. Hints of disappointment could very well be detected in him.

“Of course I am. I don’t have to worry about finding and remembering another person. I need to get my life together before thinking of a relationship.” She cupped his hand with hers over the table, Ben’s eyes following her movement. “Besides, I will be able to devote my full focus to remembering you and I hope I succeed as soon as possible.”

She kept her hand there for the rest of the dinner. Not that Ben minded anyway.

Y/N cleaned up after dinner, while Ben went to the Stark household to deliver some pie their loved. It had become a habit after she first tasted it during a visit. The house was just down the street and he was sure he would be back in a jiffy, but as he was returning, there was a sudden burst of rain. Ben usually enjoyed rain, but the weather was too chilly. He ran as fast as he could, and even after his best efforts, when he reached home, he was soaking from head to toe.

Y/N ushered him inside and ran to fetch a towel while he stood on the porch, dripping wet. She rubbed the towel on his head first, while Ben dried his face. She had also brought some new clothing items for him and Ben, very carefully went towards the bathroom to have a steaming shower and change.

He heard he voice behind him, “You’re getting sick tomorrow.”

“I’m not getting sick darling.”

#ben barnes #sebastian stan #benjamin barnes #benjamin thomas barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes x you #sirius black #fanfic #fanfiction #Memories #bin bons #Stark #benjamin #sebby stan

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aspenforest732 · 5 months

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Mortem ad Wrens Chapter 3: Pouches of... Jelly

Summary:

tw: drugs, gang life, crime, drinking/intoxication mention, homelessness, ed behaviors Boss: what do you have? Akira: A knife! Boss: NO

Notes:

Sorry! Just realized I didn't actually post this chapter ‘text‘ is JSL Text is thoughts

Recovery Girl kept Akira in her office until the end of the school day to monitor their concussion and help raise their body mass with an IV and gummy bears. Overall, new Lichtenburg patterns to trace for a couple of days and bruised ribs weren’t the worst injuries to come away with after what happened.

As the school day wrapped up, Koda shyly entered the office and signed something to Recover Girl as she approached. She shrugged and gestured to Akira, who sat up a bit more.

'Sorry I didn't interpret for you,' Koda signed shyly. 'I froze, and I know it hurts to not have a voice.'

Akira blinked in surprise at the apology and reassured, 'I can understand that, especially to All Might. I'm going to request an interpreter for his class, but the teachers are supposed to be fluent. At least that's what the information booklet said.'

Recovery Girl sighed, "He is supposed to be, dearie, but the Commission fast-tracked his employment here. All Might is working on a few of the qualifications that are standard. I'm having dinner with my kids and grandkids tonight, would you like to join us? I can give you a ride there and back to your house if you let your guardians know."

Akira slipped a small smile on their face as they shook their head. 'My family's celebrating my first day tonight. Thank you, though.'

Aizawa, looking as cheery as usual, was waiting for them outside Recovery Girl’s office with their backpack. ‘Did you want to speak with me or are you waiting on Recovery Girl?’ they asked.

Aizawa stared at them a long moment before sighing. ‘Next time you need more food, whichever teacher is present will write you a note. Otherwise, I expect you to communicate with the faculty whether you feel the need to or not. If you pull this again, you will be expelled from the Hero Course.’

Akira nodded stiffly and gave a shallow bow before snatching their backpack and hurrying with their cane towards the locker room for their duffle bag. Their pack weighed a little more than it had this morning, but as they hefted it, the extra weight was light enough to probably be from lunch. Akira caught the last bus and train leaving for the warehouse district, grateful that their U.A. ID let them ride the train for free. Very few people were on the train this late, mostly blue-collar workers and people who had little elsewhere to be. While they checked their phones and evening newspapers, Akira pulled out their math homework.

Eventually, Akira got off on the second to last stop with Arata, the local drunk, and made sure he was headed in the right direction before heading towards Blue Fang territory. At least there, they didn’t have to worry about being beaten up for sleeping in the wrong warehouse or unintentionally running into troublemakers.

At this point, all the regulars knew Mortis, the one who’s getting out. A few of the other unhoused kids teased them about trying to become a hero as Mortis headed to the back of the bar. Slamming the door open, jammed as it had been for years, Mortis rapidly signed, ‘Hey Boss! Got any work for tonight? Could use the extra cash if you have more deliveries.’

The chair facing Boss turned around as she grinned, “Perfect timing, Mortis, we do need someone to run a parcel – same drop and pay as usual. This is Dabi, he/him pronouns.”

A heavily burn-scarred man with medical staples and familiar blue eyes raised an eyebrow as they appraised Mortis. “You want me to trust this kid to run a deal this large? They don't look a day over ten,” Dabi’s icy voice drawled.

Mortis silently laughed, knowing how the sight unnerved some. ‘I’m the fastest they’ve got! And lie detection quirks either don’t work on me or require a lot of finesse since I can't talk. I may be lean, but I won’t snap as easily as a bone if that’s what you’re worried about.’

After interpreting, Boss turned to Dabi with a cocked eyebrow. “Well? Do we have a deal then?”

“Fine. I still don’t like involving kids, though.”

‘Good thing I’m not a kid then,’ Mortis signed off-handedly. ‘I haven’t been for a long time.’

As Dabi stood, Mortis almost saw a flicker of emotion other than anger in his eyes before brushing it off. Behind him was, admittedly, a large duffel bag that they looked between and Boss. ‘You know that’s suspicious as hell, right? Unless you have a cover story built in, I’m gonna be made immediately for that,’ they signed with a pointed look.

“You’re almost college age, right kid?”

‘You know I’m 15 and look like I’m 12 on a good day.’ Mortis caught the uniform tossed at them, eyeing the logo with disdain. ‘Did you at least get the right size this time? The Detective’s quirk might not work on me, but I don’t exactly enjoy spending time with him. Especially now that Eraser is my homeroom teacher.’

Boss just smirked at that. “And what, I suppose you made a bad enough first impression that he’d remember you?”

…

“No, seriously kid?” Boss cackled and Dabi, still in the doorway, looked bemused. “What the hell did you do?”

‘It’s not my fault he decided to open with an intensive quirk assessment! Hell, it was worse than the entrance exam, and you know how long I spent recovering from that. And then, because of course it did, afternoon class also took quirk use.’

Pausing to look at Dabi, Mortis continued, ‘Tell Wildfire that he should invest in some contacts if he doesn’t want people to know who he is.’

Dabi stilled, staring at Mortis’s slightly smug face with fury before chuckling darkly. “You’ve got balls, kid, I’ll give you that.”

‘I like him. Do you think we’ll keep him around?’

Boss just tossed the carry bags at Mortis as they ran off to change. The fit was right this time, fortunately, or they’d be tagged as a homeless kid, which was arguably more awkward for them to explain than why a junior high schooler was walking around in their sibling’s clothes.

Settling into their usual college student routine, Mortis stuffed their hands in low-rise pockets and stumbled with all the exhaustion of an evening-class college student complete with designer eye bags, mousey hair, and a slump that would make Disney proud. Instead of slightly swaying from chronic pain, they were swaying from what they drank at a party. The grey contact lenses and cuff bracelets distinguished Harry Newman the American foreign exchange student from Akira Mori the U.A. student from Mortis a drug runner for the Blue Fang from… well, they hadn’t thought about her in months. Why dredge that back up again?

Just as it seemed they were in the clear to make the drop, a figure on a roof caught their eye. Even as they felt the slight reprieve from their quirk being suppressed, Harry seemed confused, step hitching a moment. They looked around, very pointedly not up, and after a moment of no action from the figure, he continued on to the run-down apartment building, easily slipping his battered keys into the rusty lock.

Mortis was well acquainted with the small, dirty flat on the second floor and swept for bugs under the guise of noting what areas were damaged. Mortis frowned at the lack of devices, wondering if they’d gotten lucky or the police had gotten smarter and used a quirk. They shrugged and mixed up their drop locations just in case while making ramen. If the police were going to search the apartment, might as well leave them something for their trouble.

Mortis’s burner pinged with their “all clear” code. They sighed, acting as though a friend was dragging them out to socialize, and stopped by the landlord’s office on the way out. It was closed, of course, but gave them the opportunity to double-check the street before slipping away. Eraser continued to tail them for a few minutes into the more crowded nightlife area but dropped off soon after.

A few smaller runs to alleys and the rest of their lunch later, Akira carefully lowered themselves onto their blanket pile to continue homework. What the hell? Akira startled as their textbooks were covered in jelly pouches of various flavors. Fortunately, none of them had burst, but as Akira fished out a note, they sighed.

“To replace what you needed for this morning. Inform me when you need more. Aizawa”

Akira shook their head as they assessed their new food stash, setting one to the side to avoid weight loss tonight and putting the rest in the front compartment of their backpack to avoid ruining their textbooks.

With the bigger drop tonight, I should have enough for this week’s protein drinks and powdered milk. Since Recovery Girl gave me a Standard size cream, I shouldn’t need to buy more this month, but I should avoid Kaminari and Bakugo to be on the safe side. Akira huffed, as if any part of their situation was safe. After homework, they removed their contacts and set them in an old case, adding only a dash of contact solution.

Notes:

I went to Otakon this weekend!! Met BrownBakugo and Ricco Fajardo, Mirio's voice actor. Ricco officially can't comment but does approve of Sun and Moon (MiriTama) ship :D

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hopeswriting · 2 years

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where to send... an excellent question tbh. maybe just by this ask? reblogging is lovely ofc! but i'm not sure if the tumblr formatting would work with the id added in directly into the fic in the same way ao3 would have it 🤔

( thank you so much for your help btw! but there's really no rush, i'm only 1/6 ish done with the rewrite/proper version at the moment, haha... )

i can finally get back to you on this, so here i am. <3

so you said you wanted help for the ids, but what do you specifically have troubles with? describing the expressions maybe, seeing as that’s what you’re using them for, or something else?

as for the tags/tws, i honestly don’t think there’s any tws so to speak of. the whole healing process byakuran does is a bit unsettling, as well as the fact enma’s injuries are described more in details during the process, but i think a “mention injuries” tag would be enough. i’d definitely keep the rating at g in any case. but if you want to be safe, of course go ahead and add a tag for the bit of body horror vibes the fic has! (i’d actually go for safe rather than sorry myself haha.) something like “slight body horror” maybe? tho i’m sure the body horror tag is a canonical one on ao3, and if it has variants too you can choose the one you think fits the most and amend it as you see fit!

another tw i’d warn for is of course the bullying. tho it’s only implied and nothing actually happens, so just a “mention bullying” or “implied/referenced bullying” tag would be enough imo.

and idk if this is too much lol, but this is overall how i’d tag your fic.

au - post-canon, mention injuries, mention (or implied/referenced) bullying, slight body horror, fluff, bonding, healing (or another variant of it that’d fit more and would be more specific to your fic if there is one), romance if you squint (< if you want to be funny about it lol, and more if you tag the fic as enma/byakuran) or can be read as romantic (< this one more if you tag it as enma & byakuran), images embedded, (maybe a tag here about how byakuran comes off as a bit unsettling/creepy if you want. and whatever other canonical tags byakuran may already have that’d fit), (i’d check the canonical tags for enma too to see if one fits and add it here), may be ooc (as you said to take enma’s pov with a grain of salt and that byakuran isn’t really accurate to your hcs? but that’s up to you if you want to use it!), pov third person limited (< but not everyone feels the need to precise the pov)

sorry if it’s a bit confusing lol, but i can clarify anything you need me to so don’t hesitate asking me about it! and of course this is only for you to take inspiration from, no pressure to do it exactly like that. but if it can help, here’s the pattern i personally follow to help me tag my fics:

where does the fic take place in relation to canon and/or what type of au i’m working with here -> any cw or tw in the fic -> what the fic is about generally speaking + whatever unusual thing i may have done with it (like for example in this case, the fact you added images to it -> the specific way i characterized the characters or the specifc traits of their personality i focused on -> the pov -> everything that isn’t really in and of itself about the fic but more around it (my go-to is if it was beta-d or not, if it’s cross-posted elsewhere, and how i don’t want it to be copied anywhere else. that’s also when i use chatty tags to precise one thing or another about the fic.)

as for a general feedback on your fic, maybe i can try to give one once you’ll be done writing the final version of it? i’d feel a bit bad and it’d be a bit hard to give you feedback on an unfinished version (and it’d be a bit unfair besides).

#asks #nine-alpha

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judeswhore · 3 years

Text

captain - mason mount

thank u to @mountsmason for this gif id like to collapse now

warnings: swearing, bad smut this is my first ever smut piece and i’m so sorry, oral (M) receiving, fingering, unprotected sex

okay i’m leaving and never coming back as soon as this is posted, also it’s not edited bc there’s no way i’m reading it back anyway

Nothing would ever live up to how proud you felt the moment Mason stepped on to the pitch as captain, that little band wrapped around his upper arm, grin broader than anything. Your heart had filled with pure love and pride at seeing him wearing the band that you knew would mean so much to him.

You had no idea what it was, really it was just a tiny wrap around your boyfriend's bicep, but it had your mind wandering, mouth going slightly dry. He look good. More than good. Mason was beautiful at any time but in the zone match day Mason was something else entirely and that little captains band only added to the fuel of desire in you.

Not only had he came on captain but he'd been incredible on the pitch, an utterly amazing player just like always. But you knew as soon as he'd scored that penalty that tonight's match was bound to be in one of his top ten and as you flung yourself into his arms at the end of the game you knew you weren't leaving the grounds without giving him a proper celebration.

"Hi, Captain." You grinned into the side of his neck, lips slipping over his still sweaty skin as he clung to you, arms tight around your back. He held you against his chest, laughing against your shoulder when you playfully nipped at his earlobe. "Look at you, Captain and scoring a penalty, if I wasn't already in love with you I would be now."

“Knew you only wanted me so you could be a WAG.” He commented, leaning back to capture your gaze. “Pretty hot WAG, though.” You rolled your eyes, sliding your hand along his jaw, fingers grazing the stubble he’s growing out again.

“You know how proud I am of you, don’t you? Like seriously.”

“I know, number one fan, right?”

“Yeah I am.” Your eyes trained in on the blue and white band, fingers running up his arm so you could toy with it. “Think you could keep this for a while?” Mason furrowed his brows and tilted his head a little.

“Why?” You pressed up on to your tip toes, lips brushing over the shell of his ear, hand planted firmly beneath the arm band.

“I’ve always wanted to be fucked by a Captain.” Mason’s body tensed against you, the hand he had against your back pushing you further into him as he leant down.

“I think we can arrange something. How about you meet me in the locker room when everyone’s gone?” You nodded quickly, thoughts racing a mile a minute when Mason dropped a kiss to the base of your throat.

“Mount! Gaffer wants you. Hey, (Y/N).”

“Hi, Reece.” You stepped away from your boyfriend, dropping your hand from his arm and sending both boys a smile. “Good game.” Reece grinned at you, diving against Mason and messing his hair up with his knuckles.

“Yeah it was! Mounty strikes again.” Mason laughed, shoving his friend away before meeting your gaze, eyes sparking playfully.

“I’ll text you, yeah?”

You swore waiting for Mason’s text to come through felt like sitting in the family bar for days, you could hardly keep your leg from bouncing, eyes flicking to the time on your phone every few minutes. Images of a sweaty Mason running up and down the field played on a loop in your head and you had to cross your legs to ease the ache it had caused.

everyone’s gone

The sight of his name on your lockscreen had your heart thumping a little too hard, lips tilting into a grin as you slid from your seat. You clutched your purse tightly and made your way through the hallways, careful not to make it seem like you were too eager to be somewhere.

True to his word, the locker room was empty when you pushed through the doors, you could still smell the lingering after scent of men and wrinkled your nose as you scanned the area for you boyfriend. A frown tugged at your mouth and eyebrows when you saw that his cubby was empty and you were just pulling your phone out to call him when his arms slipped around your waist. Mason practically yanked you back against his chest, laugh bubbling from his throat at the yelp of surprise you let out.

"What the hell!" You wriggled in his grip, whacking your hand over his arm. "Why would you do that?"

"Thought I'd surprise you. Here give me those." He motioned for you to hand your purse and phone over and after you'd done so he took them over to his cubby and stuffed them into his duffel bag. He'd changed out of his kit and had tugged on an old pair of shorts instead, upper half bare and you realised he'd hung the captain band on one of his hooks.

"You really do look good as captain y'know." You made your way over to him, hands settled on his sides when he turned to face you. You grazed your finger against the waist and of his low slung shorts, the tip dipping just inside the band.

"Hmm, I think you like seeing me boss people around." He sat himself down on the bench, fingers wrapping around the backs of your thighs, head tilting back to watch you.

"You just do it so well. Kept thinking the whole time about you pinning me to the bed, the band flexing over your arm every time you touched me." You ran your fingers through his close cropped hair, nails grazing the top of his back as you settled yourself in his lap.

"Where'd you think about me touching you?" You took one of his hands and slid it beneath the blue MOUNT 19 Chelsea shirt you were wearing, Mason's fingers immediately grazing the lace of the bralette you'd chosen. You pressed a line of kisses against his jaw, hips rocking forward against his. "Gonna let me fuck you in this?" He toyed with the hem of your shirt, fingers tugging your bra down so he could brush his thumb over your nipple.

"Mase," Your breathy sigh against his ear had his hips bucking slightly, thumb and forefinger tugging at your nipple until you whined and nipped at his jaw. You brought your mouth to his, messily slotting your lips together as he grazed his fingers over your back to unclasp your bra. Your knees were pressed painfully into the bench but you could hardly focus on that when each roll of your hips had you pressing directly over the growing tent in Mason's shorts.

"Take it off." Mason tugged at the strap of your now loose bra and you grumbled lightly as you pulled away to pull each strap down your arm and drag the material through one of the sleeves. "Like it when you do that." You replied with a kiss against the corner of his mouth before you climbed from his lap, settling yourself on the ground between his legs.

"No one's gonna come in here right?" You pressed a kiss against the side of his knee, eyes locked on his as he shook his head.

"Not for a while." He lifted his hips from the bench, hands fumbling to pull his shorts and boxers down, cock springing free. You shuffled further forward eyes still never leaving Mason's even as you leant in, tongue darting out to taste him.

You curled your fingers around the base, lips wrapping around the tip as you applied a light suction. Mason's fingers immediately made their way to your hair, gathering the strands into a loose ponytail that he wrapped around his hand. He was warm and heavy against your tongue as you slid him further into your mouth, lower body thrumming with need when you heard the soft gasp that hitched in his throat.

Your lashes fluttered and you started bobbing your head, hand stroking the skin your mouth couldn’t quite reach. Mason's grip on your hair had tightened and you could feel the muscles in his thigh flexing beneath the hand you hand pressed against it. You pulled back to swirl your tongue around the head, paying extra attention to the underside were you knew you could turn him to putty in your hands.

Mason moaned, hips bucking up into your mouth as he dropped his head back against the wall. You watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped the edge of the bench, stomach muscles pulling tight. His Adam’s apple bobbed on a harsh swallow, hand pushing against the back of your head to get you to take more of him, your throat relaxing even as your eyes watered. Both your hands gripped his thighs as you let him control your movements, nails digging into his skin as you gagged around him, tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

His head lifted again, eyes locking on yours as you hollowed your cheeks, following the now slow movements Mason was pushing you into.

“Doin’ so well, baby. Good girl.” You hummed in appreciation at Mason’s praise, the vibrations causing him to groan loudly, fist tightening in your hair.

Your tongue grazed the underside of his cock on each stroke, throat constricting around him and you revelled in the quiet grunts and gasps of your name that kept falling from Mason’s lips. They were sounds that had heat flooding your body along with the screaming thought that you were bringing them out of him and you were the only one who ever got to hear them. His thumb brushed over cheek, eyes darkening when he felt you angle your head to let the tip press into your cheek and Mason’s thumb.

“Fuck,” He used his grip on your hair to pull you off him, a string of saliva connecting the head to your bottom lip. You broke with a swipe of your tongue against the tip, Mason hissing and bucking his hips in response. “It’s criminal how fucking good you are at that.”

He didn’t even give you time to think of a reply as he bent to kiss you, fumbling a little to pull you both up. His hands grabbed at your waist, pressing you against him while his tongue dragged against your own.

“Need you.” Your voice was a desperate murmur, spoken directly into Mason’s mouth. His fingers toyed with the black cycling shorts you were wearing, dipping beneath the waistband to graze over your hip. He lightly nipped at your bottom lip, mouth suddenly twisting into a grin.

“Showers are in here.” He muttered against the skin of your neck, lips brushing a line of soft kisses wherever they could. “Always wanted to fuck you in one of them.” A pathetic whimper tumbled from your mouth as you let your head drop back, entire throat on display for Mason to lick and bite at.

“So do it. Please.” Your knees already felt weak and he’d hardly even touched you yet, your mind was spinning with the fact that you knew you probably wouldn’t last long. You felt Mason’s bare foot kick against your shoe covered one.

“Take them off.” The next few seconds were a hurried blur of trying to take your shoes and clothes off all while Mason is dragging you towards the shower stalls. You briefly registered that you’ve left a scattering of clothing over the locker room and if anyone does come in they’re definitely going to know what you’re doing.

Mason switched the closest shower on, the spray of it immediately hitting his bare skin. You’d tried to pull your shirt over your head but Mason had stopped you, smirk tugging at his lips as he ran his finger over your jaw.

“Told you, I wanna ruin you with my name on your back.” His voice had sent shivers over your body and you pulled him in for a scathing kiss, fingers sliding through his hair. Mason suddenly cursed against your mouth before he pulled back, fingers sliding over your hips as he stepped away. “Band.” Was all he said before he disappeared, returning a few seconds later with the captains band dangling from his fingers.

You took it from him and slid it up his bare arm, stepping back to admire how incredible he looked standing there, nothing but that little band wrapped around his bicep. Your skin flushed and you pulled him back to you, effectively letting him push you under the steaming shower in the same breath.

“When you’re away, this is the image I’m gonna think about all day.” You kissed him under the water, hair and shirt immediately sticking to your skin before Mason was pressing you back against the wall. The water hit against his back instead, the steam rising around you as he lifted you to sit you on the little ledge that usually held soaps.

Mason bunched the shirt up around your hips, eyes glazing over as he stared down at you. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He brushed your hair back off your face, the fingers on his other hand skimming up your bare thigh. You thought he was going to touch you and arched up against him but his fingers brushed over your hip instead, smirk still on his lips.

“Mase, don’t tease.”

“Shh, be a good girl and open that pretty little mouth for me.” Two of his fingers pressed against your bottom lip and your jaw dropped open like he asked, tongue immediately wrapping around his fingers to suck them into your mouth. Mason’s gaze was locked on the movement, free hand digging firmly into your hip before he pulled his fingers free and slid them back down your body.

The second his fingers brushed your clit your body jolted, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. His movements were slow and precise, the pressure he was applying sending rippling waves of pleasure up your spine. You could feel him hot and heavy against your thigh but he made no move to push inside you yet, instead just pressed his mouth against yours and teased your clit.

Mason’s fingers tapped against it a few times before he brushed them over your folds and circled the very tip of one around your entrance before sliding it in to the knuckle, his second finger quickly following.

“Oh my God.” You arched into him, inner walls clenching around the sudden intrusion. He pushed them into you hard and fast, his kisses almost matching the pace until you’re writhing against the wall and grabbing at his wrist to get him to stop. “Please, Mason.”

His gaze met yours and his fingers stilled inside of you, thumb pressed firmly over your clit. You practically begged him with your eyes, feet digging into his lower back and you shuddered when he pulled his fingers out of you. He used that same hand to grip his cock and guide it into you, your head tipping back against the tiles, mouth falling open on a soft moan as he slowly slid in an inch at a time.

His hands settled against your thighs once he was seated completely inside you and he let out a strained groan, breath fanning against your throat. Your grip on him was tight as he started up a rhythm of slow thrusts, hips pressing flush against yours each time. He buried his face into your neck, lips nipping and biting at your sensitive flesh as you slid one hand over the captains band on his arm.

You tilted your head so you could mumble in his ear, thighs deliberately squeezing around him as he pressed as deep as he could.

“Show me how a captain fucks, Mase.” His finger tips dug into your skin as he lifted one thigh further up, his other hand gripping your shirt up to your stomach so he can watch himself disappear inside of you. His groans are like music to your ears and you’re thankful for the closed off space that makes them ache and bounce of the walls, everything that is Mason engulfing you.

“You feel amazing. Fuck, look at you.” You clenched around him in response, kissing along his jaw. Mason’s next thrust was particularly hard and you slid up the wall, a loud startled moan pulling from the back of your throat. “Do that again.” He demanded, following his words with a few more extra harsh thrusts as you did as you were told and clenched around him.

Each thrust had him brushing over your clit and you could already feel your orgasm hurtling towards you so when he suddenly stopped the whine you let out was almost painful. Mason started rolling the captain band down his arm and he hissed when you bucked your hips against him to get him to move.

“Give me your hands.” He had the band in one hand, his gaze almost black when you met his eyes. You silently did as you were told, unwrapping your arms from around his neck and holding them out for him, head tilted curiously.

Mason just grinned and pushed the band around both of your wrists before he pushed them above your head. The movement caused him to push deeper into your and your heels dug into his bum, hips rolling slightly.

“Good girl.” You felt Mason slide his own hand through the band so it was over his wrist too and wrapped the fingers of one hand around both wrists, effectively pinning you to the wall.

His thrusts started up hard and fast immediately, hips pressing into yours in a way you’re certain will leave bruises. You’re so close you can feel it starting to roll over your body, skin tingling as you repeatedly clenched around Mason. Your head rolled to rest against your pinned up arm and Mason used the opportunity to press kisses against your neck, teeth biting at the skin before his tongue soothed over the mark.

“Taking me so well baby, I know you wanna cum, can feel it.” You moaned in response, curses and Mason’s name tumbling from your lips like a chant. You could tell he was getting close too, his hips were bucking wildly, every muscle in his body tensing as he worked on getting you to cum first.

He pressed his thumb back over your clit, movements quick and nimble, thrusts getting harder until you were jolting against the wall with each one.

“Fuck, Mase. Keep going.” You dug your nails into the skin of your palms, attempting to match each of Mason’s thrusts as that fire started to spread for your toes.

“Come on, angel. Gonna cum for me, hmm? Be a good girl and let that pretty little pussy cum for me.” His lips were back on yours, kisses silencing all the moans and whimpers your were letting out. Mason’s cock hit that special spot only he knew how to find and you came around him, legs shaking as you tried to muffle your cries into his shoulder.

Your uncontrollable clenching had Mason’s own orgasm creeping up on him and with his nose tucked into the side of your face he came inside of you, thrusts turning shallow as he filled you, shaky breaths fanning over your neck.

“Fuck me.” His voice shook slightly on a laugh as the two of you almost collapsed against the wall. Mason slowly pulled his hand from around you wrist, taking the captain band with him and let you wrap your arms around his neck, your face pressed into his shoulder. You dragged your fingers through his hair, body giving a few jolts when Mason shuffles and brushed against your over sensitive clit.

His eyes flitted between you and where he was still buried inside of you, his lips tilting into a smirk. He gave a few slow thrusts, both of you hissing softly before he pulled out and helped to set you back of the floor. The shower was still running and he nodded towards it.

“Might as well use it now.” He tugged you under the hot stream by the hem of your shirt and laughed at the way your legs shook slightly. Mason kissed your jaw after pulling the shirt of your head and letting it drop to the floor. “Feel okay?” You nodded your head, body still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm and slid your fingers over his bare chest.

“I think you should be captain more often if you’re gonna fuck me like that.”

#england nt #chelsea fc #football #football imagine #money mase #mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount fic #mason mount blurbs #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (cnc), dom/sub relationship, ‘mistress’ title, pain kink, cockwarming, orgasm denial/control, use of a cockring, slapping, objectification/degradation, some angst and hurt/comfort, crying after sex, touchstarved!bucky

new parts posted on thursdays! join the taglist here

"And you can promise complete and total discretion?” the deep and husky voice on the other end of the line repeated, low enough that it was almost a whisper.

You laughed a little. “Of course,” you answered. Most clients were serious about privacy, but this guy was next level. He must be famous, you thought to yourself, or married. Or both.

But just as much as your clients wanted to keep you separate from their personal life, you would rather they know nothing about who you are. Of course it was always a risk, since nobody could hide their face and you had to work out of your apartment, but you did what you could to keep your job just that— a job.

You told your friends you were a consultant, because people didn’t question that. Sure, it was hard to keep up the lie sometimes when you got last-minute bookings and had to cancel plans, but it was worth it for the money these men were willing to pay.

And this new guy? He was shelling out all kinds of cash, on a long set of conditions. Including an NDA. You wouldn’t have given him up either way, but if the contract made him feel better (and made him pay more) then you were happy to sign it.

“So it’s all anonymous, then? No ID, no credit card…?” he pressed.

“I mean, if cash is easier for you—”

“It is.”

You were starting to worry that this was a major red flag, as if he didn’t want to be traceable back to you at all. It was almost a dealbreaker, until you glanced down at the legal pad you’d written his offer on and remembered that you couldn’t afford to turn him down. “Then cash is fine,” you decided, making a note to yourself to have 911 already dialed when he came by in case his aversion to ID was really about a desire to get away with something.

“When can we start?”

“Um, well the soonest I can do is tomorrow at seven” you explained.

"Great, I'll be there," he answered firmly, apparently about to hand up.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” you chuckled. “Can I at least get a name?”

“I didn’t think we needed to do names.”

“We don’t… but if you’re willing, I’d like to know something to call you.”

“James,” he answered after a tense pause. “James is fine.”

“Alright, James, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Upon opening the door, you instantly noticed three things about him: he was tall, he was big, and he was sexy.

You had sort of been hoping that his appearance wouldn’t match his voice, but it did, and it was going to make this so much harder. Maybe easier in a few ways, but overall worse. It was important that you didn’t get too emotionally invested with your clients.

His eyes were dragging over you like he was just as taken aback. Which was odd, because he must have seen your picture online before he called you.

“James,” you greeted. “Glad you made it.”

You stepped aside to let him enter, guiding him to take a seat in your living room. Before clients came by, you hid any signs of life and kept the space as neutral as possible, which was why the only furniture was the white couch he sat on, the black chair across from it, and a glass table in between.

You sat in the black chair and crossed your legs, noticing with pride the way his eyes studied your every move.

“It’s important that we have a discussion about boundaries and limits before this goes any further," you explained sternly, and he nodded slightly. "Tell me what you do and don't want."

“Uh, well, I guess I was just looking for… somebody who can administer, um, discipline… you know, someone who sets rules and enforces them. But could also be kind of, uh, sweet I guess, to. Not too sweet, just… not too mean either."

You smiled a little; he sounded right up your alley. "I can do that."

"You should know I… I have a… disability. My left arm it's, um, it's a prosthetic."

"How would you like me to accommodate that?"

"Just don't say anything about it, please. Treat it like a normal arm. And, uh, if you could ignore my scars, too…" he added awkwardly.

"Of course,” you nodded, “I would never want to make you feel insecure."

"Well, I mean, I'm not against degradation," he admitted sheepishly, making you smile a little.

"Right: that's different. Anything else you're distinctly not against?"

“I can take a lot of pain,” he explained matter-of-factly. “However much you think I can handle, double it. I wanna feel it.”

You could almost hear the words he wasn’t saying: I wanna feel something.

“Okay, we can do that. You’ve probably heard of the color system," you posited.

“I haven’t.”

"Oh." That threw you off slightly… how new was he to this scene? “Well, it’s traditionally green, yellow, red; like a stoplight. Red means stop. Yellow means proceed with caution. Green means continue.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Too simple for me, in fact. I have my own version: ‘red’ will make me stop what I’m doing, but only ‘black’ ends the scene entirely. And then there’s ‘blue.’ That means you want more.”

He smirked a little; a strong show of emotion compared to his stoicism so far. “I think I’ll use that one most.”

“Just don’t be afraid to use anything else, alright? I’d never be disappointed in you for safewording, or even just needing a break.”

He nodded. “Can we get to it then?”

“You’re rushing as always,” you laughed. “I’m not charging you for this part. We have plenty of time— don’t we?”

“Yes, but—” he sighed. “You look really… I walked in and, I guess I’m just really looking forward to this.”

You almost would’ve smiled at the compliment but you thankfully suppressed it. “And what is it that you’re looking forward to? What do you want me to do to you?”

His jaw tightened as he looked away from you. “Um, there’s a lot.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Ropes. Strongest you have. I can buy you stronger ones if you need them, for next time…”

He’s already thinking about next time? He’s already thinking about buying me things?

“Alright, I can do ropes: wrists and ankles? Or more than that?”

He seemed a bit confused by that question. “Is there anywhere else?”

“Torso,” you enumerated, “neck—” you stopped because you saw his reaction to that, and it made you smile a bit. “Okay, so maybe the neck is something to try. Do you like being choked?”

“I… I don’t know…” he sighed.

“Have you ever been choked before?”

“Not… sexually...”

You felt your eyebrows rise, but didn’t want to press; a story for another time, perhaps.

“We’ll have to discuss silent safewords and signals so you can tap out, but if you’d be willing to try it—”

“Yes.”

You laughed. “Eager, are we?”

He swallowed, and you wondered if you shouldn’t have let your ‘dom voice’ slip out in that moment… but he looked so good flustered like that. He adjusted himself slightly in his chair and you hoped he was already hard. And with that thought in mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him further.

“Do you like being called certain things?” you asked, voice lower as you leaned forward. “How do you feel about ‘pet’?”

He almost kept up his poker face, but his gaze faltered at the same time he moved in his chair again. “Um, ‘pet’ is okay.”

“Baby boy?”

“Not really my speed,” he shrugged.

You slipped out of your chair and stood up, approaching him slowly as the click of your heels echoed across the tile. He watched you with wide eyes and quickening breaths.

“What do you like? Tell me,” you demanded, though you kept your tone light.

“Uh,” he paused, watching your hand as it rested on his leg, “I like… I like being called a good boy.”

You grinned as you pulled your hand away, watching him tense up with disappointment. “I can do that,” you agreed, lifting his chin with a finger until he looked at you with those beautiful, desperate eyes, “if you actually are being a good boy for me.” “I will,” he promised quickly, “I’ll be so good.”

“Mmm, I bet you will,” you purred. “So willing to please…”

“Tell me how,” he sighed as your hand trailed from his chin down to his chest, slipping under the loose collar of his henley and rubbing his chest. “Tell me how to please you.”

“Well, for starters, I have a name, too: Mistress.”

He sighed like the wind had been knocked out of him, but nodded.

“And if I ask you a question, I expect you to answer ‘Yes, Mistress’ or ‘No, Mistress’. Is that clear?”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed before suddenly correcting himself, “um, yes, Mistress.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” you frowned, “but further infractions will be punished.”

“Yes, Mistress; I’m sorry, Mistress,” he moaned, melting under your touch as your hand moved down to rub his thigh through his jeans.

“Now, just for fun,” you smiled, leaning down until your lips were nearly brushing his ear, “tell me what you want.”

“Please touch me, Mistress,” he sighed.

“But I am touching you.”

“Touch my… touch my cock," he clarified, adorably embarrassed. "It’s so hard for you…”

“We’ll get to that eventually. Let’s go to the bedroom first, okay?”

However good he looked standing in your doorway half an hour ago, it was nothing compared to how he looked naked and hard and tied to your bed.

Yes, the prosthetic and the scars that attached it to his body were hard to ignore. He had failed to warn you that it was metal, so you couldn’t hide the slight shift of your face when it caught the light; you hoped he didn’t think it was a look of judgment or disgust, because you truly didn’t think it was anything upsetting. Maybe the scars were a little worrying… but they didn’t seem to bother him now, at least physically.

But truly, if anything was distracting about his body, it wasn’t the arm. It was his muscles— no wait, it had to be his cock, right? It’s tough to call: on one hand, his entire body was toned and hardened beyond the peak of human conditioning, his thick thighs making your mouth water already, his chiseled abs almost making you jealous; but on the other hand, between those lovely thighs and curving up against those perfect abs was a cock that rivalled anything you'd ever seen before, with a blue vein running up one side and a drip of precum rolling down the other.

You finally sauntered up to the bed and ran your fingers over the taught ropes, pretending to ignore him watching you impatiently. It was almost hotter knowing that he could pull out of the ropes if he really wanted to. More than most, he was choosing to submit to them and to you.

“How’s this knot feel? Too tight?” you hummed, tugging the rope just beside his wrist and watching his hand move limply with it.

“No, it’s good.”

You stepped back to the foot of the bed and stripped slowly, peeling off your black dress to reveal a matching lace set underneath. You left your heels on as you stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside.

Turning back to face him, James looked like he was all but drooling. You could see in his eyes how much he wished the ropes weren’t holding him back so he could run his hands all over your body.

But you could tell he craved being denied what he wanted, by the way his cock flexed of its own volition.

You let yourself smile as you crawled your way up the bed and over his body, like a panther stalking its prey, and boy did he look ready to be devoured.

"Are you scared?" you asked quietly. He shook his head. "Are you ready?"

He nodded. You sat up as you straddled him, positioned just right such that no part of you was really touching him, and watched with delight as he tugged against the ropes slightly to try to get closer.

"So needy," you grinned, somewhere between praising and scolding him. Your fingers ghosted over his chest and he shivered; he asked you to treat his prosthetic like a normal arm, so you dragged your nails down the metal and watched his eyes flutter shut. When you pulled your hand back and left him untouched again, he whined slightly.

“Aw, poor thing,” you pouted as you examined him, desperation emanating off of him in an invisible aura. “Your cock is all red and leaking… it must hurt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

“What if I touch it a little?” you offered.

“Please…”

You traced your fingers lightly up and down his length, tickling the skin and giving him the least pressure that you could. He whimpered and you chuckled mockingly. “I said I’d touch it a little, sweet boy, are you not satisfied?”

He bucked up into your touch as best he could, causing you to pull your hand away. “Baby, please—”

You cut him off with a slap to the face, as hard as you could muster.

“Mistress!” he corrected with a whine. “Mistress, please… please wrap your hand around it.”

“Around what?”

“Around… my cock. Stroke me, please…”

“All you had to do was ask,” you grinned, finally tightening your hand around him and moving slowly up and down the shaft. His head fell back with a soft moan, just from that. Your teasing had certainly helped get him this worked up, but you knew it wasn't just that… he was plenty sensitive all on his own, apparently.

It made your mouth water.

"Does this feel good, James?" you asked huskily.

"S-so good," he whimpered, "please can you… stroke it a little faster, please, Mistress…"

"Hmm, not yet," you decided, feeling him tense up beneath you. "Relax," you instructed with a free hand rubbing his thigh gently.

You continued to teasingly stroke his length, never quite giving him the pressure or speed he needed to get closer to his release, savoring every whimper and whine and sigh from him along with the satisfying weight of his cock against your palm.

It felt like you'd never get tired of wielding so much power in your hand.

"Please," he sighed, "I need more…"

"You want me to stroke you faster?" you pressed, already knowing that wasn't what he meant. He shook his head and you grinned, leaning in closer but letting go of his cock.

Slowly, you let the lace covering your core rub up against his shaft, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. "Ohhhhh," he moaned, "oh fuck, Mistress…"

You grinned and kept rocking against him, easily feeling the warmth of him through your panties— meaning he, in turn, could feel the warmth of you. "How does it feel, baby?"

"Good," he choked out, "really, really good… fuck, I want more, I need more, please…"

"Are you my good boy, James?" you asked in a low purr. He nodded eagerly, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nothing. "Do you want to be inside me?" you finally whispered against his ear, letting a finger run lazily up his spine and feeling him shiver so hard it was more like he was convulsing.

"Please, Mistress, I'll do anything…"

You didn't touch all of your clients sexually, due in part to the fact that they usually wanted a lot more pain than pleasure. You'd only had sex with one or two of them, and it wasn't a routine thing. Before today you never would've imagined doing this with a first-time client, but to be completely honest… he was fucking hot. The kind of guy you'd be spreading your legs for instantly if you weren't at work and he wanted to buy you a drink or grab lunch. And he was here, at your disposal, begging you for more. How could you say no?

You pulled your panties aside and gripped his cock tightly to guide it to your entrance, studying his face twisted in anticipation before sinking down and watching him gasp and sigh all at once, somehow.

It took a lot of effort to hide your own pleasure when he was stretching you out so perfectly, but you managed to suppress the desire to moan and just smile at his fucked-out expression instead.

Finally, your hips met with his and you got to sit there and enjoy the look of dawning agony as he realized you were staying completely still.

“Move, please,” he sobbed, “oh god, Mistress, please move…”

“But I thought you wanted to be inside me? Isn’t this what you asked for?”

He whined and tried to wiggle his hips; all that got him was two hard slaps to the face.

“No whining,” you instructed through your teeth. “Good boys don’t whine.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “‘m your good boy, I promise.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “or at least, I know you can be. Show me how good and patient you are.”

Reaching to the side a bit without getting off of him, you pulled a vibrator from your drawer. His eyes went a little wide when he saw it, and you laughed.

"Don't worry, this isn't for you. It's for me," you explained as you turned it on, inserting it between your body and his to touch the toy against your clit. He winced as you sighed contentedly. "Fuck, it feels good. Can you feel it on your cock?"

"A… a little…" he hissed.

"I bet it feels good for you too," you posited, "but not good enough to make you come."

After a little pause, he nodded breathlessly.

"Good," you smiled. "I just wanna come with your cock inside me. I wanna know how it feels to get off with my favorite toy while being full of my newest toy."

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Do you like that, pretty boy? Do you like me using your cock, being your Mistress' dumb little fucktoy?"

"Yes," he sobbed, hips shifting ever so slightly beneath you as he sought more stimulation from your flexing walls. Shifting the vibe to hit right on your clit, you cried out— and he did too, at the feeling of you tightening around him.

"God, you love being Mistress' dildo, don't you?"

He nodded, biting hard on his lip until you worried he'd hurt himself. He moaned again as another jolt of pleasure forced your channel to clench on his cock.

"You're making too much noise for a fucktoy, you need to be quiet."

He opened his mouth for a second, but closed it again and nodded instead.

"You can do it yourself right?" you pressed, seeing him nod. "You don't need me to gag that pretty mouth?"

He whined but shook his head, keeping his lips pressed together.

That went on for a few more moments as you teased yourself with the vibe, hoping to draw this out for the sake of his struggle. Wanting to up the ante, you took the vibe off your clit and turned it off for a moment. "I think this would feel better with a little lube… will you get it wet for me, James?"

You brought the toy to his lips and he eagerly wrapped them around it, sucking lightly on the silicone with those pretty lashes resting on his cheeks.

"There you go, that's a good boy," you praised, pulling the toy from his mouth, "that's my good boy…"

"Yours…" he repeated weakly, "wanna be good for you, just for you…"

This time when you turned it on and pressed it to your clit again, you instantly gasped and felt your walls bare down on him; turning up the vibration, you actually moaned aloud and saw him wince. "Oh, can you feel it now?" you asked tauntingly. He bit his lip and nodded.

It really wasn't even intentional but you felt your hips start to rock, making him gasp as his eyes shot open. For a guy who had been begging you to move not too long ago, he looked pretty overwhelmed by it now.

"Fuck, I'm gonna make myself come on your cock… do you wanna feel me come, baby?"

He seemed conflicted, which was exactly what you were going for. You wanted him to struggle, just enough, between his need to satisfy himself and his desire to please you. "I… I want to make you come, Mistress," he finally choked out, notably answering a slightly different question than the one you'd asked.

You smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear: "Are you afraid that if you feel me come around you, you won't be able to hold back? That you might accidentally come inside me?"

He made a needy little groan and nodded.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna help you," you promised sweetly, but of course as soon as he saw you grab a cockring from your drawer he changed his tune.

"N-no, Mistress, please," he begged with wide eyes, "I'll be good, just not that— don't put that on me."

You smirked and sat up, pulling off of him and slowly slipping the ring on his throbbing length as he quietly pleaded for mercy. He winced when you pushed it down to the base of him, his cheeks burning hot red now.

"Is it a little too tight, baby?" you cooed, grinning when he nodded. "Good."

You sank back down into him and let your hips grind on his, working your clit with the vibe and even kicking it up to the next highest setting. He jolted beneath you, clearly feeling the vibrations strongly now, and you let the view of his beautifully broken facial expression egg on your own climax.

"Mm, I'm close, baby," you whispered, "just stay still and let Mistress use you like a good little boy."

He made a small noise through his teeth but seemed to manage okay, even when your walls began to pulse rhythmically around him and your head fell back, your free hand palming at your breast through the lace bra just to add that last little edge of sensation.

"Oh fuck, fuck," you moaned, "that's my good boy…"

You shakily pulled the vibe away and turned it off, still a little numb on your clit but feeling your channel still rippling slightly with aftershocks; he seemed to feel them in spite of their subtlety, if the panting breaths that filled his muscular chest rapidly were any indication.

As slow as you could manage, you pulled your body off of him and sat back on his legs to stare at his cock. The remnants of your orgasm left plenty of lubrication to stroke it, focusing on the head which had turned almost purple now.

"M-Mistress," he groaned, writhing under your touch.

Amazingly, his cock was already flexing in your hand, and a growl of pride and hunger echoed in your chest.

“Oh fuck, can you come for me, James?” you moaned, pumping him so fast your hand was a blur. “Can you be my good boy and come right through the cockring?”

“Yes,” he sobbed, “gonna come, Mistress, please—”

“Come right now,” you demanded, watching his face instantly fall slack as he spurted out onto his own chest and stomach, cock flexing and pulsing in your hands as his legs quivered and his hips thrusted wildly.

And the tears were flowing soon after. You weren’t sure if it was sub drop or just the power of his release, but between weak sobs he whispered broken apologies.

“You did so good,” you cooed as you slipped off the ring and wrapped your arms around him, subtly trying to reach over to untie the ropes. But you didn’t need to; he flexed his arms and the restraints popped like floss. He embraced you in return as you let his head fall onto your chest. “You’re so good, it’s okay,” you continued, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, breathing quickly and wetting you with his tears.

This, you realized, is what he had made you sign the contract to protect. It wasn’t that he was excessively embarrassed about his sexual proclivities, but that this was his space to be soft, and weak, and broken. Apparently he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know that he wasn’t steel all the way down.

“Shh, it’s okay… you’re okay…” you breathed, indulging him in this moment even though it was more intimate than you preferred to get with customers. Aftercare was an important part of your job, certainly, but so was enforcing boundaries.

He began to soothe as you kissed his forehead gently, whispering well-deserved affirmations and praise. As his breathing slowed and moved back to normal, he pulled back and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated one more time, but not as wavering as before, “I didn’t think I would… that was unexpected.”

“No, it’s somewhat normal,” you exaggerated slightly, “this kind of thing… it’s taxing, I pushed you to your limits. You were really tough, and it’s all very vulnerable.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, sniffling and wiping his eyes. “And sorry about your ropes,” he smiled as he noticed the frayed ends coming off of where his wrists were still tied.

“Let me help you get those off,” you smiled, loosening the knots and sliding the binds off of him, quickly massaging the places that the rope had constricted. “Blood flow’s okay?”

“Yep,” he nodded.

“You numb anywhere?” you pressed.

“Uh, just my dick. And my brain is all fuzzy…”

You smiled. “Can’t help the first one. Let me get you some water for the second.”

“No!” he yelped suddenly. “Um, don’t go yet, please…”

“Of course,” you smiled. “I’ll untie your ankles, then.”

He still seemed disappointed, as if he expected you to hug him for hours and never move. He let you go this time, though, and loosened his grip so you could slide down to the foot of the bed.

"Was that sort of what you were hoping for when you called me?" you asked as you untied the ropes slowly and took a moment to massage the skin underneath, hoping to restore any lost blood flow.

"So much better than what I was hoping for," he admitted with a breathless chuckle. "You're… really good."

"Well, thank you," you shrugged, "it comes with practice and experience. You held your own, too."

"I wish I could say that was from practice and experience. I didn't want to say anything before but I've, uh, never actually… been to a domme before."

You smiled slightly, coming back up and being pulled into another embrace. "Um, I'll admit I can kind of tell…" you mumbled.

"I'm not supposed to touch you like this," he realized quietly, relaxing his grip on you and pulling back. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, just don't get too comfortable because we only have—" you glanced at the clock— "eight more minutes until you need to leave."

"I'll get up and get dressed soon," he offered with a sigh as you got up and quickly slipped on a robe, grabbing him a damp washcloth for the drying come on his torso.

You tilted your head as you watched him clean up, and you wanted to offer some touch that was a bit less intimate than a hug, so you found yourself blurting out: "do you like having your hair played with?"

"Um, I don't… I don't know," he admitted as he reached up to card his fingers through the hair in question. "No one else has ever really touched my hair before."

"Really?" you laughed, getting back on the bed to sit beside him. "It looks pretty luscious. I figured any girlfriend of yours would want to get her hands on it."

"Oh, well, the last time I had a girlfriend… it wasn't long then," he explained, and you kept on your best poker face. His hair looked like he'd been growing it out for at least two years, unless it grew crazy fast or something. How long had he been single? With a body like that you could barely believe that he was single now.

"Do you mind if I touch it?" you offered quietly, and once he gave you a nod you reached forward and combed your fingers through it, reaching deeper to scratch at his scalp, occasionally pulling the strands lightly into loose braid-like patterns that fell away almost immediately afterwards. He sank into your touch until you found yourself supporting his head against your chest, mindlessly playing with his hair until you noticed his eyes were shut, his breathing was slowed, and his body was limp on top of yours.

He fell asleep.

You laughed silently to yourself, realizing that you couldn't get him off of you without his cooperation since he was so heavy and you had no shot at lifting him. And, of course, his cooperation required his consciousness… which required waking him up.

And, for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. He just looked too peaceful, for a guy who had never seemed truly relaxed around you.

Was there any other way he could relax? Cause it kinda seemed like he really, really needed this. And you were in the business of meeting needs, to say the least.

So, with an apologetic text to your last client of the night that you needed to reschedule, you let James sleep on you as you closed your eyes and drifted off as well.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader

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