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#so i'm like in my head now i'm like what if
nereidprinc3ss · 2 days
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drunk in love
in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there
fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight
“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 
“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 
“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 
“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”
Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 
“Call me that again.”
Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 
“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”
“Because you love me?”
“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 
You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonder what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.
“Kiss?”
He gently grabs your wrists. 
“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”
Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 
“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.
“Can we kiss forever?”
“We can try,” he muses. 
“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”
“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”
He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 
“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”
You pout. 
“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”
Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 
“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”
“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 
“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”
He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 
You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 
“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”
Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 
“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”
“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”
He chuckles. 
“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”
You make a face. 
“I’m always nice.”
“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 
“In my head I am.”
He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 
“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”
“You think I’m not usually nice?”
“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”
“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 
He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 
“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”
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luveline · 3 days
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Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3
ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k
“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 
“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 
“I understand, but–”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 
You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?
“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 
The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 
“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 
You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 
“Did you call them?” 
Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 
Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 
“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 
You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 
Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 
“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 
You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 
“We really don’t have time to waste.” 
“I know, but my blood sugar–”
She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”
“Clearly not!” 
“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 
The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 
You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 
If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 
Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 
“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 
He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 
He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 
“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.
“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 
He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 
In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 
You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 
“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 
“No,” you say apologetically. 
“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 
Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”
“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”
“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.
“How did you get so low?” he asks.
“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 
“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 
“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 
“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 
“Don’t know,” you mumble. 
Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 
He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 
You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 
By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 
You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 
“I understand.” 
You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.
He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 
“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 
He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 
“What do I get in return?” 
He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 
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megistusdiary · 2 days
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𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖜𝖔 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉𝖘' 𝖋𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 ☄. *
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dom!transfem boss form arlecchino x sub!fem reader
warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, transfem!arle, size kink (arle's boss form), cunnilingus, fingering, thighfucking, lowkey messy?
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arlecchino pins you down to the bed, her massive form looming over you, eyes shining bright red, betraying her rather neutral expression.
you feel small beneath her like this, held down with minimal effort from her as she stares down at you.
how you've even managed to convince her to fuck you in this form is a wonder.
already, it's a tight fit for her, considering she's normally taller than you. but like this? her hand splays across your neck, surrounding your throat easily. her hand practically can cup your entire face.
"please? i can take it." you beg her, trying to reach for the prominent bulge in her pants.
"no." she sighs, pinning you back down. "you're too fragile." she asserts, softening slightly at your genuine disappointment. "i will still take care of you." she promises.
"what about you?" comes your response and she shakes her head.
"you're still mine regardless. i'll just have to use you in other ways." there's a sadistic lilt behind her words that makes you shudder and nod so obediently.
she leans up, sliding your clothes off, leaving you bare before her. she runs a hand down your body, lifting your hips and using her thumbs to part your folds. it has you panting out of embarrassment, averting your gaze as she laves her tongue over your pussy.
and, oh, it felt different. she felt warmer, bigger than usual, her tongue leaving nothing untouched as it slides over your clit. you practically scream for her, arching up off the bed while she kneels for you alone, tongue shoving its way into your cunt.
she grunts when she realizes your size difference now, her tongue stretching you open wide enough that you're gasping and clawing at the bedsheets. she can feel you fluttering around her tongue, dripping so much slick for her she's almost flattered.
she uses a dangerously clawed thumb to rub your clit, urging you to cum for her, a hand pressing down on your abdomen when you squirm from the intensity.
you pant as you recover, staring down at her, watching her push her hair back away from her eyes. she eases herself up, freeing her painfully hard cock from its confines and the way your eyes go comically wide has her twitching.
"i told you. there's no possibility you can fit me." she pinches your clit, making you squeal as she collects the remnants of your orgasm, sliding them over her own cock.
it's much bigger than you're used to with her. it's longer, wider, and oozing thicker pre-cum that has your mouth watering.
she runs the tip through your folds, seeing you squirm from overstimulation. she sits down next to you, hoisting you up effortlessly, grinding your pussy on her cock, feeling you coat her in wetness.
you can hear the slick noises of skin on skin, your head falling to her shoulder while she uses you for her own pleasure.
"want you- want it so bad-" you mumble for her and she sighs.
"you'd break. i prefer my toys whole, and i'm not ready to part with you quite yet." she grumbles, grinding you harder onto her cock as you whimper with the friction on your clit.
once she feels you cum again, she picks you up, laying you back down on the bed, hovering over you. she tenderly pushes your thighs back, folding you into a mating press so she can slide her cock between your thighs, rutting against you while she coats your tummy with her pre-cum.
her thrusts grow rougher, the bed and your body shaking as she grunts, pushing your thighs together to fuck them faster.
when she cums, she coats your tummy, chest, and a bit of your face in thick white spurts. she heaves, still hard against your stomach. she scoops some of the release off your face and stomach, fingers trailing down your body sensually.
she gathers some of her cum, easing it into your hole while you squirm and cry for her. she makes sure to use fingers she has trimmed down, all so she can finger-fuck her cum into you.
"good girl. but we're not finished." she says, her cock twitching against you as you look up at her with a sweet little dazed expression.
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ellemj · 2 days
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Breathe: Part 2 (Final Part)
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic
Read Part 1 here.
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Summary: Bucky shows you what it's like to not be able to breathe. It's how you make him feel every time you risk your life, after all, it's only fair for you to feel the same way for once.
Warnings: profanity, enemies to lovers type vibe, oral sex (male receiving), maybe breath play??, dirty talk, fingering, mutual pining.
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: I've been super busy over the last few weeks and truly haven't had the time to write, even when I've had the motivation to. With the things I've experienced this month I'm honestly on the brink of branching into writing angst. To briefly trauma dump, having someone scream and beg you to save a life that is hours beyond saving can really push a girl to write angst. Anyway, I should be able to write a lot more in the coming weeks and I'm excited to interact with you all again.
            If Bucky was thinking straight, he wouldn’t have the image of his flesh hand fisted in your hair flashing through his mind right now.  He wouldn’t be thinking about kissing and sucking along the side of your neck as your hands work to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. If he was thinking straight, he sure as hell wouldn’t be about to give you exactly what you asked for.
            Show me what it’s like.
            What what’s like?
            Not being able to breathe.
            The tense exchange is on replay in his head as he looks at you with a hardened gaze. The tip of your index finger grazes over the skin of his lower stomach, just above his belt, as you stare back at him. Why did you ask for it? He can’t help but wonder within himself, why did you ask for some filthy variation of his cock in your mouth? Does it have anything to do with him? Or is he simply the only one around to give you one last adrenaline rush before you’re benched indefinitely? Does he even care?
            Your fingertips slip more fully under the hem of his shirt and you trace one of his v-lines with the same finger that was previously lingering along his belt. Bucky takes a deep, steady breath as another image flashes through his mind. He imagines his hand tangled in your hair as you hollow your cheeks and take every fucking inch of his cock into your goddamn mouth. In this moment, he doesn’t care if you’re only willing to suck his dick in want of an adrenaline rush or whatever the fuck else is driving you right now. All he cares about is showing you how you make him feel every single time you rush out into the field, ready to get yourself killed. All he cares about is showing you what it’s like when your lungs are starved of air and you can’t catch a full breath. He’s going to fucking show you.
            “Take it off.” Bucky’s voice comes out low and commanding in a way that has tingles running down your spine in an instant. As bold as you felt when you asked him what you asked him just a moment earlier, you find yourself suddenly unsure.
            “What?” Your hand falters against his skin. Does he want your hand off? Bucky senses your hesitation and his flesh hand quickly finds yours and guides it back down to the buckle of his belt.
            “My belt. Take it off.” Again, your hand falters. Bucky isn’t thinking at all when he lifts his own hand and lets his palm conform to the curve of your jaw, when his thumb gently brushes over your cheek. He has every ounce of your attention now. Your hands start working on autopilot, pulling the end of his belt through its loop and undoing the buckle with ease. Bucky’s thumb continues circling against your cheek, his eyes lingering on your face as you undo the button of his pants and grasp the zipper between your thumb and forefinger. “You listen so well when your life isn’t on the line.” He says, almost disappointedly. But then again, if you listened to orders in the field like everyone else, the two of you probably wouldn’t be where you are right now. When you start to tug his zipper down, he quickly places a hand over the back of yours and stops you.
            Your fucking eyes. The way you’re looking at him right now, with that damn innocent look in your eye like you’ve never touched a man’s zipper before, is doing unholy things to him. Bucky can feel his cock hardening to an uncomfortable degree, and he knows you can feel it too with where your hand is resting right now.
            “Maybe you should take advantage of that.” You whisper softly. Bucky narrows his eyes at you.
            “Of what?”
            “How well I listen when my life isn’t on the line.” A small smile plays on your lips and Bucky finds it simultaneously infuriating and undeniably attractive. His eyes coast away from your face and down your arm, all the way to where your hand rests beneath his on his zipper. He catches sight of the hair tie you removed from your hair earlier still tight around your wrist. Letting his hand fall away from yours, his signature smirk takes over his features.
            “Tie your hair back.”
            You never knew Bucky Barnes held so much power over you.
            He can’t stop staring at you, studying you as you do exactly what he asked. As you tie your hair back, he can feel the tension growing all around him. He takes it on himself to pull the zipper of his jeans down, but he doesn’t dare to do any more than that. He wants you to do it yourself. He wants to see your hands, that are so small in comparison to his own, doing everything he tells them to.  Bucky’s eyes fixate on the skin of your neck, and though he has a plan in mind that doesn’t involve his mouth on you, he can’t help it. In an instant, his flesh hand tangles in the hair that you’ve just tied back and he’s pulling you closer. Every soft drag of his lips against your skin sends more and more heat straight to your core. His tongue darts out from between his lips and wets your skin before he dares to let his teeth join the equation. The first mark he leaves on you draws a sharp gasp from you. The second mark earns him an irresistible whimper. But the third? With the third mark to your neck, you moan his fucking name.
            When Bucky lets go of his grip on your hair and moves his seat away from the steering wheel just a moment after the first moan that he heard fall from your lips, you both know you’ve reached a place of no return. When you tug his jeans down a little further and slide one hand into the front of his boxers, something in the air snaps. Your hand wraps around his length, barely able to contain the entirety of his girth, and his head falls back against the headrest of his seat.
            “Shit.”  The hushed profanity tumbles past his lips as if he didn’t even mean to let it out. Without freeing him from the confines of his boxers, you give his length one stroke. Fuck. He’s big. He’s so big that you think you might’ve underestimated just how easy it would be for him to show you what it’s like to not be able to breathe. You stroke him from base to tip again and feel his precum gathering against your palm. When you do it a third time, his head snaps forward and you feel his hand in your hair again, tugging your head back so you’re forced to look him in the eye. “I can’t fucking stand you.” He says pointedly as your hand continues to move at a torturously slow pace along his shaft. You circle your thumb around the head of his cock and feel him shudder in his seat.
            “I can’t fucking stand you either.”
            “Then why the hell is your hand on my cock?” He taunts as his stare pierces somewhere deep within you. You say nothing in response, but you stroke his length from base to tip again, slower this time. “You can’t stand me but you’re going to suck my dick, aren’t you?”
            Bucky notices the way your grip around him falters, the way you squeeze him a little tighter before your hand slightly loosens around his shaft. He can fucking smell your arousal soaking into your panties. He’s a pleasantly surprised when you decide to take initiative and tug the waistband of his boxers down enough to free his cock. It springs up against his lower stomach and you watch in awe as he pulls his shirt up enough to showcase his toned abs and keep precum from wetting the fabric.
            “Oh my god.” You breathe the words out slowly as your eyes take in the reality before you. Just like you thought, he’s big. You could tell when you had your hand on it, but seeing it right in front of you? Even in the dim light of the supermarket parking lot, you can tell you might be in over your head. While you’re thinking you might be in over your head, Bucky’s thinking about how he’s going to enjoy holding your head down.
---
            “That’s it, take another deep breath for me.” Bucky says, smoothing back your hair as he memorizes every single inch of your flushed face. You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and maintain eye contact with him as you do just that. You inhale a deep, steady breath just as he guides your head down again. His thick cock slides between your parted lips, glides over your tongue, and nudges against the back of your throat for the third time. “Fuck, just like that.” You still have a couple of inches left to take but you resist, your eyes fluttering closed as you gag around his length. Who would’ve thought choking on Bucky Barnes’ dick would be so fucking pleasurable? “All of it.” Bucky says lowly, pushing your head down enough to make you take the last two inches. He bottoms out in your mouth and a groan is ripped from his chest, making his shaft vibrate against your tongue. You moan around him and he suddenly curls his fingers into your hair and pulls you back. You’re ready for him to say something infuriating, something that’ll make you want to punch out his perfect teeth but deepthroat him all at the same time. It’s what he does best honestly.
            “If you keep pulling me back, we’re going to be here all night.” Even with the taste of his precum on your tongue and his hand fisted in your hair, you’re talking shit. Bucky studies you with a menacing gaze, his eyes traveling over the features of your face slowly as he chooses his words carefully.
            “I told you that I can’t fucking breathe when you do stupid shit, and you asked me to show you what that feels like.” He reminds you, narrowing his eyes. You nod in response. “Squeeze my thigh if you can’t handle it.” Before you’ve even processed the instructions, Bucky’s pushing your head down again and forcing his cock into your mouth. This time, he’s forceful and needy with it. He’s doing exactly what he said and showing you what it’s like to not be able to breathe.
            Up and down Bucky drags your head by his grip on your hair. Up and down along the length of his sizable cock, reveling in the feel of your tongue against his shaft and your throat tightening around whatever he gives it. Your lungs are burning. Your eyes are watering.
            “You feel that? That burning in your chest?” He asks, pushing your head down again and holding it still this time. “That’s how I feel every time you try to do shit on your own, every time you risk your life for no goddamn reason.” He holds you there for another second, until he feels a tear drip onto his upper thigh. When he lets you up for air this time, the look on his face is a mix of lustful and gentleness. He wipes your watering eyes with the pad of his thumb, admiring the fucked-out look on your face as you fight to catch your breath. “You take me so well.” Bucky coos. At this point you might as well not even be wearing any panties, because you can feel your wetness soaking through to your jeans.
            When you’ve just nearly caught your breath, Bucky gives you a small nod before guiding you down again, gentler this time.
            “Your head is spinning, isn’t it? The lack of oxygen makes it hard to think straight.” He’s right. All you can focus on is the wetness between your legs and the way the head of his cock keeps triggering your gag reflex in an unexpectedly enjoyable way. Does he know you’re enjoying this every bit as much as he is? Does he know that you’re wishing he’d done this to you when you were on your knees in that upstairs office earlier? As your head spins and the taste of his still-dripping precum lingers in your mouth, you imagine what it might’ve been like if those men had busted into the room when you were on your knees for the man with the vibranium arm. You squeeze your thighs together and surprise both yourself and Bucky when you nudge your head forward, letting your nose brush against his thigh as you take impossibly more of him into your throat. Bucky lets out a guttural groan and presses his head back into the headrest once more as he fights to maintain control over the situation. He’s just about to let you up for air when he hears a strangled whimper and then feels your body shaking over his lap. He’s quick to take his hand off of your head, thinking you’ve fully run out of breath, but you don’t sit up like he’s expecting. Instead, you start bobbing your head up and down, sucking his dick like it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. “Shit, baby.” Baby? You’re deepthroating him of your own volition now, taking in as much of his length as you can and then backing off, doing that over and over again as he trembles in his seat. “You’re gonna make me cum if you don’t let up, shit.” He groans, cautiously letting his hand rest on the back of your head again.
            Bucky isn’t the one starved of oxygen and yet he finds himself unable to think straight. He doesn’t realize he’s tugging the tie out of your hair until it’s done. He doesn’t even realize he’s sliding your hair tie over his own wrist, his subconscious mind planning to keep it as a souvenir. What he does realize, is that you’re as close to your own orgasm as he is. It’s why he doesn’t think twice about sliding his flesh hand from your head, down your spine, and into the waistband of the back of your jeans. His touch doesn’t surprise you, but it spurs you on. His fingers dance over the wet fabric of your panties, testing the waters as you suck his dick with a newfound fervency. When he pushes the pointless fabric to the side and plunges a single finger into your cunt without warning, you take as much of his length into your mouth as you can and then you fucking swallow around him.
            “Fuck, you like sucking my dick, don’t you? Look at you swallowing my cock, taking all of it so easily.”
            Bucky adds a second finger to your dripping cunt, sliding them in to the hilt as you clench around him. When you moan around his cock, he can’t stand it anymore. He’s quick to pull his fingers out of you and grip your hair tightly, pulling you off of his cock. You take a deep breath, hating that he stopped you but thankful for the chance to breathe normally for a second.
            “When you moan like that…fuck. I almost—”
            “How am I supposed to swallow your cum if you keep fucking pulling me off?” You ask, your annoyance evident in your tone. Bucky’s eyes widen but his grip on your hair remains the same.
            “Is that what you want to do? Swallow my cum?”
            “Bucky…” You let his name roll off of your tongue in a whisper as you lean in close to his face and wrap one hand around his throbbing hard-on. “Let me swallow.”
---
            All Bucky can think about is the way you kissed him. The way you swallowed every drop of cum he spilled into your mouth and then sat up and pressed your lips to his, the way you dragged the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip before sinking back into the passenger seat has been burned in his brain for the last three days. For the last three fucking days.
            He stands with his back against the cool metal of the elevator wall, staring down at the black hair tie on his wrist. He hasn’t taken it off once, he can’t.
            You sit in front of your vanity, running your fingers over the fading marks on your neck. Is it wrong to wish he’d left you with some kind of permanent reminder of that night in the car? Is it wrong to hate that the marks he left will be gone soon?
---
            You were supposed to be meeting with Fury. You assumed that meant Fury alone, until you found yourself seated right across from Bucky Barnes. You’re two feet away from the man that had his fingers inside of you three days ago, two feet away from the man whose cum you swallowed like it was a cold drink of water on a hot summer’s day. You hadn’t expected to interact with him again after that night. You were benched, after all, your partnership indefinitely suspended with you being taken out of the field.
            When Fury walks in moments later, breaking the thick tension that was beginning to suffocate you both, what he says changes the dynamic entirely.
            Not only is he putting you back in the field, but he expects you and Bucky to spend a week undercover in the lowest place on Earth: Madripoor. A week together.
            When Fury leaves the two of you sitting in the conference room, the tension returns at full strength, swirling around the room and threatening to suck the air out of your lungs. It comes to a head when Bucky’s about to speak, about to say anything he can think of to break through the thick cloud in the atmosphere. He leans forward and rests his arms on the table, opening his mouth to say something, and that’s when you see it. Your hair tie from that night, wrapped around his wrist. His eyes follow the line of your gaze until you’re both looking at the seemingly insignificant piece of elastic.  
            But it isn’t insignificant.
            Bucky Barnes is wearing your hair tie on his wrist, and he has been for three days now.
            When your eyes meet again, that familiar warmth begins to build low in your stomach.
            Tie your hair back.
            He’d said it so authoritatively and you’d listened so willingly. Neither of you is aware that the other is thinking about the same thing.
            The next time Bucky wants your mouth around his cock, he’ll be tying your hair back himself.
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candylix · 1 day
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great minds think alike | bang chan
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A sequel to blow my mind, read that one first! Pairing • Chan x GN!Reader Summary • After failing your test, you decide to go to the library to study. But when you get there, you see Chan. He wasn't the reason you failed, but he definitely didn't help. You said you weren't going to read his mind again, but after the first incident, he hasn't left your thoughts. It couldn't hurt to see what he's thinking about this time, right? Genre • college au, fluff, smut WC • 2.6k Content • sequel to blow my mind, no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina and breasts, mind reading, dirty thoughts about: asking you out 🥰, public sex, groping, thigh grinding, clit stimulation. Chan has an exhibitionism kink. Indented paragraphs indicate what's happening in his mind and not real life.
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You really needed to bring your grade up. Normally you do alright, but that score was going to plummet your GPA. You never expected cheating to backfire so hard... but how could you possibly predict that the person you were mind reading would be thinking about sex the whole time?
This time, you'll be prepared the right way. You carry your textbooks and notes to the school library, and you're going to buckle down and study.
You enter the library with your foolproof plan in mind. You even set your timer for an hour, so you know when to take a break after all your hard work. But you freeze when you get to the tables and see a certain man already there.
Chan is studying too. You can feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest. After the test, you caught yourself thinking about him all the time. When you saw him, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to be around him, but you felt too anxious to say hi.
Safe to say, you've formed a little crush on him. It was embarrassing to admit to yourself, because you know how it happened. You read his mind, saw him fuck you on the desk, and now you want to hold his hand and kiss him.
Before you can even think rationally, you find yourself walking over to his table.
"Hey, mind if I study here?" you ask, mentally punching yourself for breaking the plan this easily.
He looks up, startled by the sudden intrusion, but his shock fades into a smile when he sees you.
"Go ahead," he responds. You pull out the seat across from him and put your stuff in front of you, as if you'll actually be able to get any studying done.
"Did you see your test score yet?" he asks.
"Yeah... let's just say there's a reason I came here to study."
"I didn't do too well either. Not bad, but not good."
"What happened?" you ask. You know what happened, but you want to see what he has to say.
"I, uh," he starts, and you see his cheeks start to flush. "I got a bit distracted."
'A bit distracted' is the understatement of the century.
"I hope I don't distract you, then."
He laughs nervously at your comment.
"Well, um, I'll get back to studying then," he says, and hides his face behind his laptop.
You open your textbook and think about studying, but you know you wont be able to resist peering into his mind. With the way he reacted, you know he's going to think about something interesting.
While pretending to read the book, you focus on him, and his thoughts gradually fill your head.
'Ok, Chan, focus. You can do this. Just... read your notes... focus... it would be rude to leave, right? I'm not gonna be able to focus like this.'
There was a small part of you that thought he didn't actually have feelings for you, and that he was just a pervert. But from the way he's struggling to study because you sat at his table, you can tell he really does like you.
'Do you want to go for coffee after this? No, that's stupid, it's too late to get coffee. What about... Wanna go see a movie sometime? That's stupid too. Ugh. How do you ask someone out without being cringy? Maybe I should buy some flowers? No, I'd have to carry them around all day like an idiot. This is too hard. I should just jump into a volcano. That would be easier... But this is such a good chance. I have to say something before I miss another perfect opportunity...'
His thoughts are racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out what he's going to say to ask you out. He said something about missing another opportunity... how long has this been on his mind? You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you think of every time you talked, wondering when he was thinking of asking you out. There have been a few times where he looked like he was going to say something, but just kept quiet. Was that him chickening out? Maybe you should put him out of his misery and ask him to dinner.
You tune back into his mind, just in time for him to imagine a scenario involving you.
He's sitting in the library across from you, exactly how you are now, but he's wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. "Hey babe, why don't you stop what you're doing and take a ride with me tonight. I'll make it worth your while." He winks, and a motorcycle comes crashing through the wall to stand next to him. He takes a seat on it, and you run up to get on behind him. He revs the engine a few times to look cool. You wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his six pack through his shirt. Then he rides the motorcycle out of the hole in the wall and into the sunset.
You can't stop a chuckle from escaping your lips.
"What are you laughing at?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
"Um, nothing. Just remembered something funny my friend said earlier," you lie.
You both go back to 'studying'. That was a close call. Not that he would ever guess what you're doing, but you did want to see where that fantasy was heading. You don't have to wait long before another one starts again.
You're both sitting in the library. He clears his throat, and you look up at him. "Sorry to interrupt, but... would you want to... maybe... go out with me?" he asks. "No." You say flatly. Then you take your textbook and smack him across the face, before leaving the room. 'Chan, that would never happen,' he thinks to himself. The daydream resets, and you're back where you were before, sitting across the table from him as if that never happened. He suddenly stands up, grabbing your attention, and walks over to your side of the table. He sits on your textbook, forcing you to look up at him. "We're done studying for today. I'm taking you out for dinner." "But-" "No buts. I won't take no for an answer." "I guess I have no choice then," you say, giggling. He fixates on your smile, they way you look at him, your lips... and everything freezes.
Chan buries his face in his hands. He wanted to be a cool, suave ladies man, but even in his imagination he loses his composure when you smile at him.
It's cute to see him like this, reminding you of when you read his mind during the test. The first thing he did was imagine holding your hand. It's possible that his feelings have gotten stronger since then, because now he's struggling just to ask you out in his romantic fantasies.
He's still sitting on the table in front of you, and he takes your hand, pulling you up to your feet. His other hand cups your cheek, and guides your face down to him. Your lips press into his, and you melt into the kiss. He breaks the kiss, and looks into your eyes. "Let's take a rain check on dinner," he says, and his hands move to the bottom of your shirt. "What are you-" you start, but he lifts your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the side. He unclasps your bra and throws it somewhere as well, and he drinks in the sight of you. "Chan, we're in public. Someone might see us." "Good, let them. I want everyone to know these," he says, grabbing your tits, "are mine." With one hand on each breast, he massages them, and kisses you again. His thumb grazes over your nipples, and you moan into the kiss. You can feel him smile, and he pulls at your nipples while he gropes you. His hands travel down your stomach and to your waist. He's quick to unbutton your pants and pull them down. He massages your ass over your underwear, and his thigh parts your legs to rest itself under your cunt. You gasp, and he slips his tongue in, deepening the kiss. You roll your hips, rubbing your pussy on his muscular thigh. He grabs your waist to help guide you on him, and you continue grinding on his leg as the feeling in your pit starts to build. "Not so shy anymore, huh?" he teases. "You want everyone to see you humping my leg." You roll your hips against him faster, trying to feel as much as you can between multiple layers of fabric. He watches your breasts bounce as you buck against him, and he sits there mesmerized at how good you look when you're fucking yourself on him.
Your alarm goes off. You both jump in your seats. His daydream instantly vanishes as the noise brings you both back to reality. You scramble to shut it off.
"Sorry, I forgot I set that alarm." "Oh... Does that mean you're done?" he asks. He looks at you with sad puppy dog eyes.
'Shit. I was too busy being horny that I completely forgot to ask. Ugh.'
You decide that if you want to go out with him, you're going to have to ask him yourself. "Actually, I have something I wanted to ask you," you say, and he instantly perks up. Your feel your heart beating, and you hesitate for a moment. You know he'll say yes, but you still feel nervous all of a sudden. Asking someone out apparently doesn't get easier even if you have nothing to fear. Finally, you make yourself say the words.
"Do you want to go out sometime?" He pauses, and starts overthinking about what you could possibly mean. "Um... like you want to hang out? Like a friendly 'go out'?" "More like a date 'go out'."
"Oh... OH. Yes!" He coughs, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yeah, let's go out sometime."
He can't hold back the grin that forms on his face. "Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing."
"Really?" you say, feigning ignorance, "That's crazy. I didn't know you were interested in me."
"Yeah... I've liked you for a while," he says shyly, and his cheeks turn pink. God he's cute.
"In that case," you start, walking around to his side of the table and grabbing his hand, "there's something I want to do." You pull him up to his feet, and lead him to the bookshelves. You walk into an empty aisle near the back. "I really want to kiss you." His face turns bright red, and you can hear the thumping of his heartbeat. "O-ok," he stutters. He's completely different from the Casanova in his daydreams, but the juxtaposition is very endearing.
You cup his face and lean in for a kiss, and he kisses back softly. He doesn't know where to put his hands at first, but he rests them on your waist. Gently, you push him back against the bookshelves and press your body into him. He melts into the kiss, and his confidence grows enough to lower his hands to your ass.
For the first time, his thoughts are completely silent.
You're the first to break the kiss. "Do you want to go a bit further?" you ask. "Further...?" he asks, and when your hands leave his face to travel down to his hips, his eyes go wide. "What if someone walks in on us?"
"Then they'll know I'm all yours," you whisper. With the way you're pressed up against him, you can feel his erection forming. If his daydreams didn't convince you of his exhibitionism kink, this sure did.
He nods his head, and you lean back in for another kiss. You palm his crotch, and as you slowly stroke his bulge, you feel him harden under your touch. He grabs your hand, stopping it in its track. "What's wrong?" you ask. "Sorry, I just..." he hesitates for a moment, but continues, "I want to be the one touching you." You remember everything he's fantasized. That is what he likes. "Go ahead," you say. He turns you around so that your back is on his chest, and he brings his hand between your legs. He kisses your neck while he rubs you, and you lean your head back into him. His hand moves into your pants, and he feels the wet spot in your underwear. He moves it aside, and his fingers circle your clit. When he finds a spot that makes you twitch, he presses into it, rubbing it harder and faster until your body rocks into his hand. His other hand snakes under your shirt to grope your breast, and he plays with your nipple. He rubs it and pulls at it, earning a moan from you. The fingers on your clit stroke you faster, and you can hear how wet you are as he moves in and out of your folds. The sensations from your breast and your core has you bucking wildly on him, and your ass presses against his dick. He buries his face into your shoulder, dampening the moan he lets out. He grinds into you from behind, with no rhythm in his movements.
You can feel your orgasm building, and you can't control how you hump Chan's hand while he continues his brutal pace against your cunt. He works his fingers, caressing your folds and rubbing a sensitive spot. You writhe under his touch, and you know you're close. You feel the dam burst, and he continues to rub circles around your clit as you buck into his hand, riding out your high. His hand continues to hold your pussy as he humps your ass, feeling his own orgasm building. He moans, and his pace slows down as he finishes on you. You're both breathing heavily, and he takes his hand out of your pants.
You both lower yourselves to the ground in exhaustion, and you turn to face him. He leans back against the bookshelf. "You don't know how much I wanted to do that," he finally says, and you have to stop yourself from saying yes, you did know.
"Me too," you admit.
As much fun as it was peeping into his thoughts, the real thing felt way better.
"Do you... want to make plans for our date?" he asks. You completely forgot about that in the heat of the moment. "Maybe we should get cleaned up before we think about next time." "Oh, right. Do you want to come to my dorm to shower?" he asks, before adding "Just to get cleaned up! I didn't mean- unless you want to-"
"Yes," you say, answering his question before he overthinks and uninvites you. "I don't want to have to go home like this."
"Yeah, um, alright. Come with me."
You go back to the table to get your stuff, which thankfully is still there, and he leads you to his dorm.
You didn't end up studying, but you did end up with a boyfriend, and that's more important anyways.
Although he would argue otherwise.
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EPILOGUE:
You're chilling in Chan's room while you wait for your final grades to show up on the school website. You check your phone, it's finally the time they said it would be posted. You both open the website.
"Yes!" he yells, "I got a 93%!"
You wait for the page to load, and when you see your mark, you breathe a sigh of relief.
You barely passed, with 1% over the failing grade, but a pass is a pass nonetheless. Your GPA fell significantly after you started dating Chan, but it worked out in the end.
He looks at your score.
'Wow, what a terrible grade.'
He looks back at you.
"Hey, you passed! Great job!" he says, and gives you a high five.
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evie-sturns · 3 days
Text
you want to? - matt sturniolo
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summary: when you ask your classmate matt for a ride home after school, you find out hes a virgin, how could you not offer to change that?
contains: smut, semi-sub!matt, virgin!matt, swearing.
--------------------└── •✧• ──┘------------——-
the deafening bell rings throughout my math classroom, signalling the end of the day. i look down at my phone which reads 3:00pm, i instantly start to pack up my books more than ready to leave.
i watch the brunette boy to my left swing his bag over his shoulders, he doesn't say much but i'm pretty sure his names matt, i'm quite close with his brother nick but i've never got to know him personally.
i follow close behind him as he walks through the hallway.
we exit through the doors of the school, i decide to make my move now, needing a desperate ride home.
"uh- matt!" i call out walking up beside him, he looks over at me fixing the frame of his dark brown glasses.
"yeah?" he replies softly,
it shouldn't be wrong of me to ask for a ride, i've seen him briefly while i've been round at nicks house, and we got paired up for a group project in 9th grade where i spoke to him for a week.
"this is like- really random but do you mind giving me a ride home, i think my house is just down the street to yours and my car broke down this morning." i ramble
"oh- yeah, okay- thats fine." he says nervously "thank you so much" i let out a sigh of relief.
matt and i walk in silence to his car, his lips are red from where hes been biting them.
he opens the door for me, i jump in the passenger seat. the whole car is clean except for a camera battery and an empty mcdonald's cup.
he jumps in as well, "sorry if this is an inconvenience, i'll venmo you gas money and extra." i say.
"no- don't worry about it, it's fine." matt instantly replies.
i decide to start up a conversation, not wanting to sit in silence for the whole 20 minute ride.
"hows nick?" i ask, "hes okay, i think hes just weirded out about the whole audrey situation."
audrey is nick's best friend, who recently became hated at our school for sleeping with a whole friend group then lying to everyone and saying they made her do it.
"oh yeah!? she fucked that whole group of guys oh god." i exclaim, causing matt to tense up, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight.
"you okay? sorry- do you know audrey"
he shakes his head "i don't know her."
"oh you just went tense about the audrey fucking." i repeat, he laughs slightly, the tips of his ears go red.
"have you never had sex?" i ask, my head spinning round to look at him.
his cheeks go a deep red, he takes a hand off the wheel to rubs his eye under his glasses.
"i- yeah- no.. i dont know" he mutters, "you don't know if you've had sex?" i smile,
"i don't know- no" he says awkwardly with a grin.
"oh, thats fine!" i reply,
"you want to?" i continue, matt goes silent. i instantly regret my words, i didn't mean to make matt uncomfortable but it was just a genuine question.
"sorry." i instantly follow my words up, my tone less.. loud.
"yeah, i think i do" matt almost whispers as though he can't get any louder.
i nod my head understandingly , "you got anyone you want to loose it to, or not really?"
matt seems to grow a little more comfortable, his deathly grip on the wheel loosening
"i can't say" he laughs slightly "i mean i'm almost 18 and both my brothers won't stop yapping about their hook ups." he sighs
"do you want to.. with me?" i ask quietly, the words leaving my mouth before i can process
"but only if you want-" i instantly say after.
his head snaps round to look at me, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly. "you- what" he smiles slightly, his eyebrows twisting as his cheeks flush
i stay silent, maintaining eye contact for a couple seconds.
"yeah, okay thank you" his says breathlessly, looking back to the road
"you can uh- come back to my house, nick and chris are at hockey and my parents are away for 2 weeks." matt says, trying to sound confident.
i nod, "yeah okay!"
-
3:42pm
matt pulls into his driveway, we've been having small talk for the past 5 minutes the rest of the way.
i open the door to his car, stepping out onto the concrete. i follow matt inside his house, i'm more than used to being in his house, execpt its usually with nick to hang out, not with his triplet brother to hook up.
i take his hand, he guides us upstairs into his bedroom. i lock the wooden door behind us.
"so uh, where do we start?" matt laughs nervously, reaching a hand up and scratching the side of his head.
i get on my tip-toes, grabbing his jaw and pulling him into a kiss. he hesitates for a second before kissing me back.
it quickly turns into a makeout, i push him back onto the bed before straddling him.
i grind against the fabric of his jeans, matt lets out a pathetic whimper against my lips clearly sensitive.
i pull away for a second to pull my shirt up over my head, revealing the pink lace of my bra. matt shamelessly stares at my tits, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip.
after a solid 25 seconds of staring he pulls his navy blue crewneck off over his head, his middle part flopping on his forehead.
his breathing picks up as i unclasp my bra, letting it fall down onto his chest. i instantly feel a bulge feel underneath me, his face growing red.
i fix his glasses on his face lingering my fingers on his skin for longer than needed, "oh my god" i hear him whisper under his breath, i shift off his lap onto the floor, matt sits on the edge of the bed.
i fidget with the buckle of his belt, pulling it through the loops of his jeans before unbuttoning the button of his jeans and shimmying the fabric down his thighs.
i don't waste time to yank down his boxers, his erection springs out. matt's tip is slightly more red than his lips, now begging to be touched.
"you ready sweetheart?" i ask him, dragging my nails up and down his thighs.
"yeah- yes please." he nods, i wrap my hand around his length and pumping slowly, i look up at him and his head falls back "fuck.." he groans as i wrap my lips around his tip.
i circle my tongue just around his tip teasingly but it seems to be enough for matt already.
i slowly take more of him in my mouth, taking most of his dick down my throat.
"oh my god oh my god-" matt whimpers as i bob my head up and down,
my pace quickens everytime matt makes noise, only driving me to take more of him. i feel him twitch, meaning he's close already.
after matt bucks his hips up i pull off of him, edging him. "please" matt starts but i cut him off "don't want you to cum yet, don't wanna overstimulate you okay?"
he nods, i get up off the floor to straddle the top of his thighs again, his dick resting against my lower stomach.
"tell me what you want matt." i say, fixing his hair which rests against the glass of his glasses. "please?" matt whispers.
"please what." i tease, kneeling on either side of his legs and pulling down my shorts and panties in one tug. "ride me.." he says shyly. i smile before hovering myself above his tip, slowly sinking down onto his tip.
"oh my god" he groans, i let out a soft groan as i sink further down his length, i grab his wrists and place his ringed hands on my waist instead of him balling up the sheet.
"feels so good" he mumbles shakily, i start to bounce slowly up and down on his dick.
i let out strings of moans as his grip tightens on my waist "please please-" he whines, i start to pick up my pace.
"matt- you wanna try being on top?" i ask quickly, he hesitates before nodding his head eagerly.
he flips us over impressively easily, "grab my ankles" i tell him which he does, his two large hands grabbing my ankles and pushing them down by my ears, i nod.
he starts to thrust into me, matt's middle part flops on his head, his glasses shifting.
"fuck- 'm so close" he groans "you got it matt" i breathe out
matt pulls out, instantly releasing on my stomach as his glasses fall off, landing on my chest.
he flops down next to me on the bed panting, his arms laying across his forehead.
i scoot closer to matt's side, "you okay?" i ask, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him, a small smile forming on his face.
"you don't understand how long i've wanted that with you." he laughs slightly, "with me?" i reply, my eyes widening slightly
"yeah- i don't know." he sits up, rubbing his eyes. i sit up next to him, grabbing his glasses off my chest and holding them up
i slide the glasses onto his face, his cheeks still flushed
"we should do this again sometime" he suggests awkwardly,
"good idea matt" i smile, pressing a quick kiss to his red lips.
---------------------------------
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privitivium · 3 days
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ok but how about a dom reader whos always busy (workaholic and shi) x an always clingy n touchy sub yan.
like. reader is never at home. and when he finally come back ends up doesn't paying that much attention to yan, sayin 'im too tired' or going to his home office. eventually being followed by yan cause omfg poor boy is basically starving for a little bit of attention. he still declines yan's pleadings tho
then one day this man shows up earlier and completely EAGER for his yan. idk what more can i say. breeding? degradation? daddy kink? dumbification? what could happen when theyre feeling so fucking needy for each other?
(also i love your writing so so much!!!!!!! <3
workaholic male reader, clingy sub yandere ^ rambles. euugh
dumbification works w either imo, reader fucking lover til hes stupid while simultaneously fucking his lover stupid?!
amab//domtop reader/subbot yandere, cw;; breeding, daddy kink, dumbification xd wanna rework this into a more ,,, eloquent fic. soon. have been busy. i really liked this idea so. will do on my own soon.
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workaholic you, growing super distant… obviously making your lover paranoid. because what if you're cheating on him? you aren't, of course - he knows that, but he cant stop those kinds of thoughts from popping into his mind…!!! humping your pillow to ease himself while ur at work, watching the camera feed of you in your office… sigh…. often hearing the dreaded words accompanied by a soft simple pat on his back - not even a kiss... "sorry... please, baby, not right now. i'm too tired." he sobs himself to sleep, knowing you're only providing for him,,,, it hurts!!!
all his worries wash away when you arrive home earlier than usual! concerned, but all the more happy to see you appear in the doorway of your home… breathing ragged, looking all dark and mysterious,,,, the mere sight of you looking all deranged makes him hot and bothered. ignoring the way his dick twitches to life, uhmㅡ
"honey? why are you home so early, sweetheart?” draping himself across your front in a very affectionate hug. he couldnt help himself-! and, much to his delight you were not pushing him awayㅡand practically throwing yourself onto him?!?! hh..h.hh...
there you were,,, grasping his face in your hands, pressing your lips against his so hungrilyㅡ “i need youㅡneed you. need you.�� expressing your apparent neediness over and over as you bury your face in the crook of his neck ㅡ he was startled, but so fucking eager to comply? feeling the way your boner presses against him? you were that eager for him just as he is you???,,,,, he nearly faints. tearing up with a now raging erectionㅡ “please, baby, i need you - i need you reallyㅡreally badly-” so fucking happy as he completely smothers you in his love,,,
you don't need to tell him twice,,, throwing the front door closed…,,, leading him to the bedroom, covering his face in kissesㅡeven when there was a perfectly good couch right there to make love on. he won't complain,,,, hes gotten used to the null feeling of toys...,,, so, feeling the very loving embrace of your dick filling him up overstimulates him rather.,,, quickly!!! thinking about how truly awful you are to neglect this pretty litte thing, how could you? so, so very awful.
your darling little lover sobbing on your cock… he's so beautiful - experiencing his love and affection for the first time in forever? berating yourself for being so distant,,, pouring all your frustration at yourself into his flexing taut hole,,,, “mm-misssed you… s-so mu-uch daddy-!” he doesn't seem to catch what he just moaned… too drunk on the feeling of your cock pistoning in and out of him - it feels otherwordly?!
and, i mean. going along with it. with ease, because he deserves everything. especially, anything for your darling lover who just wants affection, your love!!! laughing breathlessly as you piston your hips against his, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head - peppering his face in kisses, “daddy's right here, sweet thing - n-never leaving again, y'hear?” it was… a little odd, but fitting. afterall, you're pumping load after load - breeding him. obviously you'd be the daddy in this situation…,,,,
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bountydroid · 2 days
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Darlin' pt 6
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pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)
Description: Cooper and Reader feel the effects of the radiation.
Notes: My tags are still goofy I don't know what is going on I am sorry. When I am writing the post your profile comes up and I click on it but then when I post it it doesn't work? Help? You guys may have to just keep an eye on my posts. :(
Cooper still hasn't told us where he is taking us yet. The sun seemed to get extra hot as the day went on. I knew the irradiation of the river was starting to hit me, just like it was the vaultie. We both had sunken, dark eyes and pale skin. Radiation sickness was starting to set in. Cooper made sure I stayed close to him, his eyes only leaving me to bark at the vaultie when she slowed.
"This damn sun," I whined.
Without saying a word, Cooper took off his hat and dropped it on my head. I smiled ear to ear, the idea of wearing his hat filling me with joy. "Thanks, Coop." 
His footsteps stuttered at the nickname. Little did I know, it brought back a flood of memories that were long forgotten. "Just don't lose it, darlin'." He mumbled.
The show of affection filled me with a burst of energy, adding some pep to my step as we trekked along in the sand. Eventually, we happened upon a small, derelict town. The old homes were covered almost half up their sides with sand. The houses now were all the same tan color as the ground, a reminder of the harshness of the wastelands. We walked up to a building with "Westside Medical Clinic" written on a big sign out front. As soon as we stopped walking we heard it. The yelling.
"Roger! My name... is Roger!" A voice roared from inside the building. 
The three of us exchanged looks before Cooper pushed the vaultie towards the door, making her go first. "Stay behind me, sugar." He said quietly to me. 
We slowly continued into the building as the snarling grew closer. The vaultie hesitated, not wanting to get any closer to the danger inside. This caused Cooper to give her another harsh shove. The fear swirling in my stomach made me feel like I was going to throw up. I grabbed onto the back of Cooper's coat for purchase. We finally made our way into the room where the voice was coming from. A man, or a ghoul, was sitting in the sand, mumbling and snarling. 
"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.
"Hey. Hey." the man laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"
"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.
You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around. 
"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.
"How you feelin’?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.
"Oh... you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got some smoothies of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie and me in the corner. "That one is cute with your hat on."
I give him a small smile as a blush warms my cheeks. "You like it? I'm thinking of keeping it." I say, trying to lighten the mood. 
Roger lets out a gleeful laugh, "Oh, I hope she rubs off on you. Keep her around."
Cooper smiles in response, "Plan on it."
Roger cried out again, ripping the smiles off everyone's faces.
"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, he exchanges a worried look with you.
"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.
"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking sorrowful.
"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and your smooth-faced friends, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."
Roger started to snarl again, he was growing louder and louder. It was horrible to watch. "Is this what will happen to Cooper?" I thought to myself.
"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you are though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started wastelanding?"
"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.
"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.
"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"
"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.
"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.
"Hot damn! Apple Pie." Roger said, joy lighting up his face, even making the vaultie smile. "You know my mother used to-"
Before he could finish, Cooper shot Roger threw the head with no warning. I stumbled back in shock, tripping and falling on my butt and landing in the sand. 
"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked with tears in her eyes. "He was sick."
Cooper ignores her and starts making his way toward me while he holsters his gun. My eyes were glued to the man, lifeless on the ground. 
"Darlin'." Cooper says pulling me from my thoughts and he crouches in front of me. 
I look up at him with weeping eyes. "He...." I trailed off. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," I whispered as the tears started to fall down to my chest. 
"Don't be sorry, darlin'. Can you do something for me?" He asked calmly.
"Yeah." I managed to respond between sniffles. 
"Wait in the hallway." He replies, rubbing my shoulder reassuringly. I give him a confused look before he starts talking again, "I don't want you to see this."
Realization washes over me. "You gonna eat him?" 
"Just - just wait in the hallway." He says as he pulls me up to my feet. "Okay?"
"Okay," I mumble as I slowly make my way out of the room. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes. It's only a minute before I hear the vaultie begging.
"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."
"What'd you say your name was?" Cooper asks her.
"Lucy MacLean." The vaultie replies hesitantly. 
"MacLean?" Cooper asks a hint of recognition in his voice. "Huh. Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella gotta eat another fella." 
Even from the hallway, I could hear the squishing from whatever he was doing in there. I felt nausea settle into my stomach, whether from the radiation or what Cooper was doing in the other room, I didn't know.
"You know, my vault has endured hardship too," Lucy said, pushing back. In the great plague of '77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn't work the farms together, people starved. My mother included. My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this."
Cooper let out a deep chuckle at her words.
"What? What's so funny?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom.
"Well, there's what people say they did and what they really did." Cooper said, his accusation heavy in the air. "I'll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor's ass on there."
"How do you live like this?" Lucy asks. "You obviously know it's wrong you sent her to the other room. So how do you do it? Why keep going?"
I open my eyes slowly at the mention of me. I didn't know if I could ever live like that, so Lucy's question piqued my interest as well. There was a heavy silence as I heard Cooper's footsteps making his way across the room.
"Well, one good question deserves another," Cooper responds, his voice was dark, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why the fuck am I doin' all the work? Now come on vaultie, ass jerky don't make itself."
This was a side of Cooper that I had not seen since the night we met. Ruthless. Cruel. It made me wonder was this who he really was. Or was the sweetness he has shown me his true self? It was probably a little bit of both. The silence in the building was deafening. It was a moment before I heard Lucy's soft footsteps in the sand. 
"She is actually gonna do it." I thought to myself in horror, letting out a soft gasp. 
Once they made their way out of the room, Lucy's hands were covered in blood and she had an empty expression on her face. She was clearly traumatized by what she had to do to Roger. Cooper didn't look at me as they made their way past. "Come on, darlin'."
-
It felt like forever since the incident with Roger, but it was hard to forget as his skin hung from Cooper's pack. The three of us hiked in silence, tension had returned to Cooper and me as neither of us knew what to say to the other. Cooper had started coughing some time ago. This filled me with dread, we needed to get him some Radaway fast. Let alone, myself. I was getting sicker by the minute as I struggled with the poisoning from the river. My feet dragged in the sand behind Cooper as I struggled to keep up. 
Cooper dipped his canteen into some water pooled in an old barrel. My chest filled with jealousy. I ran out of water some time ago and the lack of food and water was becoming painful. He made eye contact with Lucy as she watched him drink. This wasn't the first time he had teased her about her lack of water. Desperate for a sip, she fell to her knees in front of the water, scooping it into her mouth. 
"Now you're gettin' it." Cooper mused as he watched her. "How does that golden rule jibe with what's goin' through your head right now?" 
"What are you?" Lucy asked angrily.
"Oh I'm you, sweetie, just give it a little time." He responded.
"Because of the radiation poisoning?" I asked, my voice cracking from dehydration.
Cooper turned to me with a serious look on his face, "Not gonna happen to you darlin'."
I gave him a small nod before I squeaked out, "Okay." I trusted him completely. 
As a coughing fit took over the ghoul, Lucy took her chance to make a run for it. I was torn between chasing after her and staying to comfort Cooper. Cooper started waving after her, signaling for me to chase her.
"Hey! Stop!" I yelled as I ran after her.
As we rounded the corner, she stopped to stare at the huge crater in the ground. I ran up next to her as I also marveled at the sight. I had never seen anything like that before. Suddenly, Cooper's lasso secured itself around Lucy's midsection as he pulled her down onto the ground.
"Where you think you're goin'? You ain't goin' nowhere." Cooper said as he stepped over her, leaning down to grab her face.
Lucy immediately responded by biting onto his finger and ripping it off with her teeth.
"Oh my god?!" I gasped out as I ran toward them. "Cooper."
He continued to keep his attention on Lucy. "There you are, you little killer." He said as he lifted her to her feet before grabbing ahold of her matching finger and cutting it off with his knife. "Now that right there is the closest thing to an honest exchange that we've had so far." He pocketed her finger before reaching down to pick up his own. "Here darlin'," He said as he handed me the rope that was tied to Lucy. 
I hesitantly took it as I watched him rummage around in his pack for a small rag to wrap his finger in. 
"You don't hurt, right?" I asked him.
"Don't feel a thing, sugar." He said smiling as he took the rope back from me. 
This exchange seemed to have depleted Lucy's resolve completely as she quietly obeyed from there on out. It wasn't long after that that we reached an old building with the word SuperDuperMart written on it. It was surrounded by a broken-down fence and had some old cars in the front of the building. I was nervous, but Cooper's confidence calmed me as we approached the building.
"Transaction," Cooper said as he pressed on some sort of communication device. He threw his bag into the dirt next to him. He looked tired.
"Yes?" Someone responded.
"Two month's supply of vials. Exchange one female mint condition." He stated before looking over at Lucy's hand, "Near mint condition."
"Condition grading requires physical evaluation. Please send her in." The voice responded, there was something strange about the voice that I couldn't recognize. It almost didn't sound human.
The door to the building buzzes and slowly opens. Lucy watched it with concern evident in her eyes, "What's in there?" She asked.
"You're about to find out," Cooper replies as he cuts the rope that bound her wrists.
"You're selling me?" Lucy asks, a look of disbelief on her face.
Cooper pulls a gun from his hip and cocks it, "You got problems out here too, sweetheart. Best you try your luck behind that door. Go on." He says as he shoves her.
I watch on from behind Cooper as Lucy shuffles her way into the building, giving a nervous look back before she enters.
Once she enters, Cooper deflates. He was obviously putting on a show for her. Pretending he wasn't as sick as he really was. "Y/n?"
"Cooper?" I ask breathlessly.  
Instead of responding, the ghoul collapsed.
"Cooper!" I yell out as I shake him. His eyes are open and he's still awake but for some reason, he was not able to move. 
I pushed the button he was using to communicate with the man inside the building. "He can't wait he needs it now!" Only to get no response. "We will give you another person! A female near mint conditon." I say, describing myself.
Cooper whispered out, "No." I could barely hear him. 
I crouch down next to him and place his hat next to him, "It's my turn to take care of you." I declared, giving him a sad smile. 
I took his gun and tried to shoot the door to break it. I had never used a gun before, so it took me a minute or two to figure out. The glass, however, appeared to be bulletproof. 
"Shit," I mumbled before placing the gun on the ground. 
I then decided to try and pry the door open with no such luck. I run between the cars around us, searching for anything I can use to open the door. In one of them, I find a crowbar. "Yes!" I yell happily as I run back to the door. I wrestled with it for a while before I finally was able to get the crowbar inside, finally, I had some progress. I yelled out in frustration as I tried to open the door. It was the heaviest thing I have ever felt in my life. Moving it just an inch took more strength than I had, especially in my state. 
After a couple minutes of struggling, I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I looked over at Cooper only to see he hadn't loved an inch. "Cooper?" I call out as I crawl towards him. I sit next to him and gently lift his head onto my lap, rolling him onto his back. "You'll be okay," I say quietly before looking up at the door. I was hoping that soon they would come out to give him the vials he was owed. The silence felt like it had been going on forever when there were suddenly gunshots coming from inside the building. I help Cooper a little closer, afraid and confused. I grabbed his gun again and held it close to my side. 
"I've got you, Coop," I whispered to him.
The building then went silent again. There was a moment before Lucy strolled out the door, covered in blood. 
"Lucy? What happened?" I gasp.
"They were going to harvest my fucking organs!" She yelled angrily as she sauntered over to us. 
I shakily hold up my gun, causing her to stop in her tracks. 
"He doesn't get these, he turns into one of those? That how it works?" She asked, holding up a couple vials. 
I lower the gun and start begging. "Please, Lucy."
She crouches down next to him and contemplates for a moment before saying to Cooper, "I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you." Before getting up, she gently puts some vials in my hand. "Golden rule, motherfuckers."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" I cry out happily as I start rummaging through Cooper's pockets searching for his inhaler. "I've got you, I've got you.." I kept repeating as I shakily put the vial in the inhaler and hold it up to his mouth. It takes a couple tries, but ultimately, he gets ahold of it and breathed in the contents. I make a happy squeak as he starts to move again. 
He lets out a soft wheeze before saying 'Why the hell would you do that?" 
"What?" I asked him confused.
"You were going to fucking sell yourself? For me?" He states angrily as he sits up to a sitting position. 
"Well-" I start.
"Well, nothing. Never do that again." He shouts as he stands, pulling me up by my collar. The fear on my face softened him as he released my shirt with a sigh, "I ain't worth it, darlin'."
"You are to me," I say quietly. "You are never getting rid of me."
He lets out a small laugh as he smiles wearily, his resolve dimishing. "You are way too good for me, sugar."
"Well too bad, Cooper. You've got me." I say as kiss him on the cheek.
Just as I was pulling away he grabbed hold of my hip "Come here." He says as his lips crash into mine. 
I let out a squeak in surprise before I started to return the kiss. It was sloppy and heated, filled with pent-up emotions. It was everything I wanted.
Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramategreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie
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Text
At who's the best at
Paige Bueckers x Fem reader
Warnings: Slowburn (?), curses, sexual inunendos
A/N: I couldn't think of a title 😭 I am so sorry. Other characters are from my imagination, they are not related to NCAA at all. Had to get this ideas out of my head.
Y/N was panting, hands on her knees after doing laps across the court. Today is hell, Geno is not taking it easy on them, the training is tougher compared to the previous months as their team is advancing to Elite 8. She thanked the cardio gods for being on her favor today or she will pass out. Taking one last deep breath, she put her both hands on her waist and walked towards the three point shot perimeter. Qadence pats her on the back while she is dribbling for a three point shot.
"Take it easy babe." She nodded at Qadence before shooting the ball. Another miss.
"Miller!" Geno motioned to come to him. Y/N sighed and jog towards her coach's direction.
"Kid, do you see this?" Geno handed her his clipboaard with her stats on it.
"This is from the last game against Duke."
Y/N scanned her stats, and it is much better progress compared to their match against Sycaruse and Jackson State.
"Yeah and it will get more better if you can hoop today. What the hell is wrong Miller? Shade and Edwards blocked you three times today. You don't get blocked thrice based on these stats. What's wrong kid?"
Y/N didn't respond and remain silent. It shows in the practice that she is preoccupied today.
"Nothing Geno, it's just......" she trailed off thinking of what she should say.
"I'll do better. I'll make sure to clear my mind before practice so I can focus." Y/N continued, bowing her head slightly. She had to prove to UConn women's basketball team that they will not regret accepting her back when she transferred here during her 2nd year. But Geno doesn't seem to be convinced of her answer.
"Alright. I am expecting much better results in our next practice. We can't make excuses once USC had our asses in our match. Go take a swim or a run in your neighborhood or whatever later, you're not yourself today and I don't want to see you like a vegetable during practice."
Y/N nodded and Geno gave her an encouraging pat on the back before letting her go back to practice. It made her feel a little better but her day is still shitty.
----
Y/N's phone keeps vibrating, this is the umpteenth time her parents called her today. She doesn't want to answer it, it will be divorce probably. It already threw her game off today and she doesn't want to ruin her day more by answering it.
Mum:
talk to me hun, please
Hun, we are sorry, I know this will be hard for you.
Do you hate us?
I'm sorry, love. It's not working anymore between me and your dad.
Dad:
Peanut, please answer your phone.
I'm sorry.
We wanted to tell you for a long time.
---
Y/N turned off her phone. With a deep sigh, she ate her tacos. She's got a lot on her plate now, her studies, her upcoming match, and now her parents divorce. She wanted to take a break.
"Boo, you okay? You're preocuppied the whole day." KK finally asked. Her teammates have been giving each other knowing looks and tiptoeing around her all day. They are not used to her being silent. She went out with them tonight hoping it will take off some things in her mind.
"I'm fine girl. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bad today." She smiled at KK. She's not ready to talk yet not until she's able to come to terms with her family.
"You suck, Miller. Paige is getting full of herself today and you're too preoccupied to humble her."
Paige almost choked on her shirley temple, she took a napkin and wiped her mouth.
"Me? Full of myself? Come on Aubs." Paige scoffs.
"Miller just realized today I don't need humbling, I'm actually good." Paige raised her eyebrows playfully followed by their teammates violent reactions.
Y/N grinned. She had to thank Paige for diverting their teammates from pressing on what's going on with her. The subject of being the best shooter between her or Paige became a daily banter. Paige was not unwelcoming when Y/N transferred in UConn but her competitive ass made sure to show why she was here first instead of Y/N. Y/N admits that Paige is actually better than her and the best all rounder, her transferring here seemed challenged the latter on who's best at what. She doesn't know why Paige thinks she has competition when she is actually the best. She likes to get on Paiges nerves so she gets along with Paige's imaginary contest.
"Get outta here Bueckers, I can do what you did earlier even with a hangover" Y/N said, giving Paige a sheepish grin. Paige made 43 consecutive 3 point shots, it got into her head today without Y/N beating it. It always annoy Paige when Y/N's record is close or beat hers.
"Oi, enough you two." Azzi stopped them before it could start to bickering. Y/N raised both her hands in surrender. She took a sip of her margaritas while still giving Paige a cocky grin. Now the latter looks annoyed.
They continued having fun, dancing and drinking. Y/N didn't move that much from her seat, she's tired and the margarita must've probabaly hit already.
"I'm just gonna go to the restroom." She excused herself. Feeling dizzy Y/n groaned, guess she will have that hangover tomorrow.
She decided to turn on her phone and was still bombarded with texts from her parents. Her mum's name popped on the screen and decided to answer it finally.
"Honey, I'm glad you answered. I've been calling all day." Her mom sounded worried on the other line.
"Sorry mum. Busy."
Her mother sighed. Y/N doesn't exactly know what to say, she is still processing that her parents will have a divorce. Out of 23 damn years, they just decided now that they don't need each other?
"Honey I.... I am so sorry. If you could come home soon we could have a talk, with your dad and I."
Y/N rolled her eyes.
"I am not going home, mom. California is 2000 miles away, I have an upcoming game in 2 weeks, and I am busy for my finals. What's the point? Your going to sell the house anyway now that you are getting divorce."
She didn't mean to sound mad over the phone, but she is really upset.
"I will call you when I am ready to talk to you both. If you two want a divorce, fine, but give me time to process that my parents don't need each other anymore after 23 damn years."
She didn't wait for her mother's response and hang up.
------
Paige went back to their booth joined by a tipsy Nika after their teammates are gone to god knows where. Dancing or probably making out with someone.
"Hey P, have fun! You're awfully behave tonight. Loosen up, it's weekend tomorrow."
Nika nudged her and throw an arm over her shoulder.
"I'm good, Ma. I don't want hangover tomorrow. Besides, someone has to stay sober to make sure you all get home safely."
Nika scoffed, rolling her eyes at her teammate. It's their last free night before Geno will give them total hell in preparation against their match with USC.
"You're boring me P. I'll go join the others and have fun being miserable here. Have you se---" Nika wasn't able to finish her sentence when a commotion started in the middle of the bar. Recognizing the 6 foot tall asses of their teammates in the scuffle, the two ran towards their direction.
"What in the fuck happened?" Nika felt her slight tipsiness gone, helping KK reach Ayanna who's ready to take a swing to an athlete from Yale. The bouncers are trying to separate them before it ends up to a total brawl. Paige scanned where the others are and her eyes landed on Y/N, her sleeves are up, Aubrey blocking her from punching another Yale athlete.
"You don't talk shit here, dawg. Go back to New Haven and fuck your slutty girlfriend!"
Paige grabbed Y/N by the waist and dragged her out of the scene. For someone who is always cool and at her composure, she was surprised that Miller can trash talk.
"Calm down, Miller. You don't get to injure that million dollar hands." With Azzi trailing behind, she brought Y/N outside and pinned her on the wall to calm her down. She looks disheveled, some of her locks escaped from her ponytail, her face is red, her sleeves are uneven and she is reeking of alcohol. What a total mess.
"What in the world was that Y/N, I know you guys don't start fights but you all are better than this. Gosh, how many drinks did you have? You are reeking of alcohol!" Azzi said frustrated.
Y/N scoffs, wiping some sweat on her forehead. Paige couldn't agree more with Azzi. They don't start fights, Y/N never looses her cool even during their banters at who is best, intense matches and bad calls from ref. Paige wonders what made her so worked up that she almost punch someone today.
"Nah, I was cool Az. I took shots from everyone, sorry I lost count."
The 2 of them grimaced. They check Y/N if she had any injuries, Geno will kill them if they are scathed and once he hears about this. Azzi wonders as to why Yale women's basketball are in Storrs. That's like an hour drive just for a night's drink.
"God you are drunk and you can take a fight." Paige said amused. She never saw Y/N got drunk because she never was.
"Oh yeah Bueckers, wanna try? Let's take it here outside." Y/N stood straight, her face annoyed.
Well that was hot. Paige thought. She raised her hands in surrender before Y/N gets totally pissed. Y/N haven't landed a punch but it might be on Paige if she triggers the latter. Azzi gave her a scolding look.
"Chill, Ma. T'was a compliment."
Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall again. She's starting to feel hazy.
"What did they do anyway?" Azzi asked.
"Douchebag's girlfriend was offering me a drink, I declined. She thought I want to fuck her slutty girlfriend and proceeds to call us defects, the others heard it, we didn't mind until she pushed Aaliyah."
Paige clenched her jaw and Azzi rubs her temple. Half of the team suffered injury in the past year. Paige wished she hadn't grabbed Y/N and let her land her fist first before fleeing from the scene, it was uncalled for. Drunken Miller surprised them tonight, they didn't know that her mouth can talk.
"That's it, we are all getting home. I'm gonna go get the others." Azzi left them outside.
"Yeah Azzi and tell that cunt to fuck her girlfriend properly."
Paige shook her head. Y/N is definitely the highlight of tonight's event.
"What got you so worked up today, Miller? You almost took it out on someone."
KK was right, Y/N was preoccupied. She didn't have any baskets during practice. Paige had 29 3 points in a row today, usually Y/N comes close or even beat her. It's unusual for someone who plays ball since 5th grade, she just did laps all day.
Y/N groans. "I'll talk about it tomorrow when I'm sober. can you take me home please? Paige."
Paige, licked her lips and pretends to think about it. She's gonna do it anyway.
"I never thought you were into girls." Paige blurted out. She mentally slapped herself right after. Her intrusive thoughts won.
"You guys never asked. I never said I was into boys either. So annoying."
For some reason, Paige couldn't keep her smile off. She was grinning like and idiot. Y/N noticed and she rolled her eyes, Paige looks stupid.
"You look like an idiot Bueckers."
"Maybe I am."
She twirls her car keys and they started to walk where she parked her car. She's behind Y/N who's trying to keep a straight-face and herself from stumbling.
Azzi and KK following them, KK still heated from the commotion earlier and keeps trash talking. Azzi is trying to cover her mouth for being loud. KK, Azzi, Nika and Y/N rode with Paige. The others were at Aaliyah's car since they live together in the same apartment. Paige shook her head, they are all dead on Monday.
-------
Y/N woke up, her head pounding and throat dry. She groaned when she tried to get up. She knew immediately it was bad last night to have a hangover like this, she rarely gets drunk and when she does, she has it bad. She jolted up when realizes that this is not her room. The bed sheet is purple, there are Miami Heat posters everywhere and the trophies are too many to be hers. Not until she saw the familiar number 5 jersey hanging on the wall.
"Fuck, what did I do last night." She whispered to herself. This must be Paige's room. She tries recalling the events of last night and vaguely remembers the Yale athlete talking shit. She almost got involved in a brawl.
Y/N got up from bed only to realize that she is wearing Paige's clothes, it's one of her old team USA shirts, nothing else and her boxers. It's already 2 in the afternoon, she could hear the ruckus outside Paige's room and KK's rambunctious laugh.
She opened the door and was greeted by the chaos of her teammates.
Y/N winced when the pounding of her head hits again. She sat down on one of the bean bags and leaned her head back trying to ease the headache. In an instant, Paige handed her a bottle of water and a tylenol. She gave Paige what is this for ? look.
"Your hangover, duh."
"Ya'll our sleeping beauty is awake." KK sat beside her but she was waiving where Ice was. Ice was doing live on the corner, and she didn't realize that where she is is being captured. Gosh she looks horrible.
"Guys, they wanna know something. You remember we did a tiktok of who among in the team you don't want your kid to date..... They want the opposite."
Qadence was quick to shout "Aaliyah" followed by KK's "Y/N"
"Yeah, I'll go with Y/N too." Ice agreed
"Y/N will throw hands, I'll bet on her too." Aubrey added.
" 'bout you, Paige?"
The team groaned when Paige showed her "rizz hands."
"Will we go further? I'll let my kid date myself." The team erupted in disagreement. Nika throws a pillow towards Paige's direction. "Dream on Bueckers!" Y/N shakes her head too.
Paige is a gender bender, the amount of fans she has be it a boy or a girl is insane. She may look like a fuck-boy type but she'll be a good girlfriend, the question though is, can they take her superstar life?
"Y/N, they wanted to know who you want your kid to date." Ice turned towards her. Y/N straightened her back a little, enough only to face Ice.
"No one, you guys loves ball more than relationships." Everyone burst in laughter.
"You heard our homie? We're not playboys/playgirls, basketball is life." Ice said in live while giving a thumbs up.
"Nawww! she's just playing safe!" KK shouted.
" Y/N is so fine, I think I'll start watching live " Ice reading through comments.
Y/N suddenly felt conscious. She moved where the camera can't see her so she can deal with what's left of her hangover.
" Does Y/N have a boyfriend or what? Saw her in Stanford before and what the hell is she doing on the court, go model in a runway or something--- Yo! Someone said you should model Y/N!" KK is reading along with Ice now.
Y/N blushed on the compliment(?). She couldn't think of herself as someone who walks on a runway or pose for a magazine aside from playing ball. She's no Cameron Brink who could pass that criteria.
"Maaaaan, they are all whipped to our girly pop. We've been gatekeeping our secret weapon."
Some of her teammates joined KK and Ice in reading the comments.
"Y/N c'mere they want to see you."
Y/N doesn't want to be rude by not saying even a "hi" but she really feels shit right now. She look around the room and her eyes landed on Paige, begging for help.
"Y'all sorry but Miller is not feeling well, you'll get to see her in Gampel soon. Be sure to be there." Paige shouted while throwing an arm around Y/N's shoulder. They are both far from the camera, Y/N waived though from where they are.
"Thank God." Y/N muttered and leaned on Paige's shoulder and she felt her stiffened.
Ice wrapped up her live leaving disappointed viewers to only see a glimpse of Y/N. All of them went back to their chaotic self.
--------
A/N: Please stay tuned for the next part. I think I have a hangover too 🤮. Wrote this when we were at the bar. Feedbacks and suggestions are open.
ALSO..... DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHO DOES THE GIRLS HAIRS DURING THEIR GAMES? DO THEY HAVE A HAIRSTYLIST OR WHAT?? PLEASE HELP A GIRL OUT. 😌
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 13 hours
Text
My Missing Piece
616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader
Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?
Word Count: 10.4K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.
A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)
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Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.
I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.
The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.
I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.
As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.
I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.
After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.
I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.
But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.
With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.
The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,
"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.
"Awww but Mama!" They whined.
"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.
I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.
My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.
I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.
"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.
Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?
Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.
But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.
I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.
"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.
"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.
With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.
As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.
After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.
The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.
"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.
The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.
"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,
"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.
"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.
"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.
"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."
"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,
"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,
"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.
As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.
For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.
But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."
I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.
"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."
She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."
I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.
With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.
Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.
"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."
I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."
She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."
A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."
The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.
"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.
"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.
"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.
"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.
"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.
"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.
"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.
"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.
"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.
"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.
"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.
"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.
Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.
I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."
Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.
========================
The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.
I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.
I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.
She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.
And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.
But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.
My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.
"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.
"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.
"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.
I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.
"What?" I ask.
"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,
"You did what!?" I screech.
"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.
"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.
"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."
She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."
With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.
As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.
And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.
With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.
When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.
"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.
"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.
"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.
"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.
"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.
As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.
With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.
Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.
"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."
She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."
I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.
"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.
The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.
I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.
Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.
Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.
And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.
In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.
User
"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.
The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.
Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.
With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.
With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.
In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.
For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.
"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.
"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.
"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.
"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.
The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.
"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.
With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.
"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.
"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.
As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.
I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.
With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.
And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.
The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.
The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.
"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.
"Never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."
Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.
"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.
In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.
A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.
Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.
"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.
Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.
In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.
========
In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.
With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.
Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.
As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.
"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.
"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.
Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.
"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."
==============
As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.
Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.
With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.
==============
As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.
Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.
As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.
Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.
Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.
As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.
And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.
As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."
My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.
"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.
The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.
As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.
"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.
The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.
As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.
With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.
As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.
Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.
In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.
As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.
I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.
With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.
As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.
A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.
With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.
As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.
In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.
As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.
===========
Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.
"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.
"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.
"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.
As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.
In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.
With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.
As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.
"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."
In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.
With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.
Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.
"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.
"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."
As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.
"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.
As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.
In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.
Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,
"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,
"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”
In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop
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theminecraftbee · 2 days
Text
Wels hums as he walks through the shopping district. He doesn't need much, but with the recent release of Overlord, he wants to hear if any of the establishments are playing it. He doesn't expect it somewhere like the Permit Office--Grian's spent too much time and money getting a song that was as perfectly annoying to be put on hold to as possible--and if it is playing in the log shop, he will laugh. But music tends to spread around Hermitcraft fast, and sure, this isn't about anything specific, but who's gonna miss a good opportunity to dunk on Doc?
He hears the backing beats from a nearby shop and hums along with them, walking down the path--
--then turns a corner and leaps back.
"You," Wels hisses.
Hello. Awfully rude of you not to include me, you know, says the specter.
"No, there's absolutely no reason for you to be here. None at all!" Wels says, throwing his hands up. "The last time I saw you was--gosh, I don't even know. Season Seven?"
Yes, yes, and the only time you saw me, you aren't lying to yourself at all, the specter says agreeably. Come on. We both know I was haunting you for what little of Season Eight you bothered to be around for.
"If you were on Eight then you super shouldn't be here," Welsknight says. He shakes his head and looks up at the shop playing his song. Joel's? Huh. Wouldn't have thought he'd have a reason to make fun of Doc. Welsknight removes his shaking hand from his sword hilt again and starts walking.
On account of you leaving everyone there to die, yes, we're both aware, the specter says.
"Oh, screw you, you wouldn't have done any different, get new material," Wels says. "Also, you aren't real? You're like, all of my insecurities or whatever. You don't even have a real body right now, no one's made you one."
The specter shrugs. I mean, if I'm the worst parts of yourself, really, you're the one who needs better material. Abandoning all your friends to die and then abandoning them altogether--it's a wonder they let you stick around!
Wels rolls his eyes and forces his hand to stay out of his inventory. Wouldn't do to give away that still even gets him. He peaks at another shop. They're playing the song too, but it's ever-so-slightly out of sync, which is kind of terrible. As he does, Cleo waves at him. Their eyes sort of stutter right past Helsknight, which definitively tells him exactly how much body the specter even has to possess right now.
"I'm actually having a great time with my friends this season, so like, the whole 'abandonment' song and dance isn't going to work this time. Started the season with them and everything; hard to even go for 'they'll forget me at the first opportunity' or whatever."
The thing is, the more Wels says it, the more its true. None of the insecurities and pain points that the specter is echoing back at him are what he was actually thinking about. He's been like... fine? Sure, he's definitely still got repressed negative traits, but nothing like "Xisuma's evil twin brother playing around with his head" or "the moon crashing and killing everyone" or "too depressed and burnt out to get out of bed" or "sort of considering abandoning everyone because that's like, his thing" these days. None of the things that should bring the specter that had haunted him since Beef's cloning machine back to him without a body. But Wels is careful about clones outside of something like Vault Hunters, where they're explicitly under his control. He, like, doesn't even armor stand much. So that can't be this either; Helsknight clearly doesn't have a body to be messing with Wels yet!
...Helsknight doesn't even have a body or an actual insecurity to be poking at Wels with yet.
He stops. He puts his hands in his pockets, and turns around to face Helsknight. He is no longer shaking at all.
"Dude, why are you even here?" Wels asks.
I told you, it was rude to leave me out, Helsknight says.
"What," Wels says.
The final bars of Overlord play over the speakers. Welsknight hums and nods before it suddenly clicks.
"What," Wels says again.
Honestly, you're not normally this much of a moron. It was rude to leave me out. Rapping is also my thing.
"Dude," Wels says.
I could totally destroy Docm77 any day. I would obliterate the fool you call a "friend" in ways you cannot comprehend. You invoke a sacrificial goat? I know ways he'd never recover, gods he'd never be able to retrieve himself from. It would be laughable. And you left me out.
Wels stares at the demon from his nightmares.
"You're mad at me because you didn't get to be in my diss track," Wels says.
You let me be in the last one, Helsknight says.
"Dude," Wels says. "Dude, that's pathetic."
Helsknight sniffs. I'm your worst qualities. What does that say about you.
"I didn't even write this for this season," Wels says.
That makes it worse, Helsknight says.
"I don't even know where to start? For one--no, I still don't even know where to start," Wels says. "This is like, the lamest reason you could possibly have to come haunt me. Go away, I'm basking in my like, top 3 charting hit on the Hermitcraft server."
Top three? Pathetic. There are only three songs. You'd be the top song if you'd simply included my power, Helsknight says.
"I can't beat the streaming minutes Grian puts on that hold--look, uh, dude. You're, uh, a very scary representation of my fears and worst qualities and all. Appreciate that. Next time I need to do a diss track, I don't know, maybe I'll invite you? First you've got to stop appearing solely to make my life worse, though. Bring me a cookie or something. I don't know, whatever demons do."
I'm not a demon, I'm a Shadow. We're different, Helsknight says. ...I'll think about it.
When Wels turns the next corner, Helsknight has vanished again. Wels stops in the middle of the street, looks around, confirms the specter has vanished, and then bursts out laughing.
"What the Hels," he says, somehow feeling lighter and more bemused than before. That's a new feeling with his doppleganger. Then, he goes to visit Big Wood. While Doc definitely isn't playing the song of his own accord, Wels figures that Beef just might, and given the day he's having, that would feel like a kind of irony Wels isn't sure how to describe. Besides, he wants to see if Doc will notice if Wels sets the song on loop or something. What can he say--the man's reactions to being taunted are spectacular, and Wels loves seeing them. Call it a bad quality of his or something.
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haruchi-slit · 2 days
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"CONCEALED CHARMS!"
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synopsis: jjk men reacting to reader who has small chest!
characters: sukuna, toji, nanami, suguru and satoru
warnings: | sukuna's part: reader is one of sukuna's concubine + nipple play + fingering | toji's part: cunnilingus + nipple play + fingering + slight edging | nanami's part: comfort + p in v + passionate sex (?) | suguru's part: comfort + p in v + lots of kissing (?) | satoru's part: shower sex + p in v + comfort | minors you were warned do not interact
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Sukuna:
The king always wonders why his favorite concubine does not take her kimono fully whenever they had sex he was wondering why and it makes his head hurt, does she have a hidden mouth in her chest? no, no, no a mere concubine wouldn't have that, maybe she has a lot of scars? no her skin is like a porcelain. impossible. he wonders to himself. one day he couldn't take much more of it so he orders Uraume to come and get you to his chambers.
"my king, you called?" you murmured closing the doors behind walking towards the king.
he's sitting on the edge of the bed, he stood up, looking down because of the height difference,
"why do you not take your kimono every time we had sex?" he straight up asked, it caught you by surprise...
"o-oh i thought it wasn't necessary nor important that's why..i-"
"you're lying woman." he frowns "what no no no my lord i am n-" you retort before he lifts your weight and bounced you lightly on the soft mattress, "my king you really don't have to see my chest! it's not an important matter!" you resist but Sukuna is just so eager to see what's under your kimino he flicks his fingers together dismantling your kimono and so as your undergarments, your arms were quick to cover your chest, grabbing the sheets of king's mattress. "ah~ is this why you're always covering your chest? how cute." he says as he puts his weight on the mattress crawling towards you, he snatched the sheets you're gripping to with his other arm, "were you afraid that I'm going to replace you because of your chest?" he teased, "y-yes my lord, i was" "how pitiful..." he lets off a sadistic sigh as he grabs your arms revealing your cute small tits, it had his mouth watering, "there's no need to hide, brat..." Sukuna chuckles as he latched his mouth on one of your perked nipples giving them attention that they need, now he's not wondering anymore. now he can focus on giving the attention that they need, he wonders why you hid them away for such a long time. sukuna knows that he have seen many boobs in his lifetime but yours was definitely one of a kind. you moaned softly while he enjoyed your little titties popping them out using his tongue as his other arms and hands pleased your cunt, his tongue placed in his stomach, roaming on your body, at this point his pleasure is not one of his priorities, yours is...
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Toji:
"shit toji- that's the spot..." you rambled tugging your hands on his hair. This is the third time you and toji got intimate since the two years of your relationship and he hasn't seen you fully nude, yes he has seen your cunt but he hasn't seen your chest, for now, not that he minds he's just curious why. how is he still not yet to notce that you're flat chested? cause you wear push up bras, that's why he hasn't questioned why you don't want to remove your t-shirt. but today the curiosity got to him. "can you remove your t-shirt?" he murmured sending vibration on your clit, "why- so sudden? you never asked me to remove them" you'd debate "it's just...i want to see you nude that's why, you've seen me nude so why can't i see you?" Toji continues while lapping on your pussy, you were nervous, so nervous..."toji- i i can't. i think I can't" you whispered Toji's eyebrows knit "what do you mean you can't?" "it's just- you'll be disappointed" you sucked your lips between your teeth, "disappointed in what? it's not that I'm forcing, I'm just really curious why you never took them off..." he says with a lingering doubt and curiosity as he scissors his fingers in you. you let out a deep sigh and used your elbows to support your weight, you proceed to tug on your shirt revealing your push up bras, toji was too busy eating you up that he didn't even noticed, until he looks up to you, you're completely flustered it was a mix of embarrassment and arousal. toji continues to eat you out with his tongue while looking up to your flustered face, your arms that's covering your chest is what caught his attention. "hah...what is there to hide baby girl? I've literally seen your cunt" Toji says inching his mouth away from your pussy he used his hand to slick his hair back, to take a better look on you, "heh...now i see why" he smirks wiping your juices from his mouth, eyeing at your chest, "why hide this pretty tits of yours princess? were you shy?" you nod "you're so cute when you admit something yea? reminds me when you first confessed to me hah" he uttered ghosting his way to your body once again, swiftly unhooking your push up bras revealing your erected nipples it looked so cute, fuck it looked so scrumptious he swore he almost drooled. Toji wanted to suck your nipples, but not yet, not just yet, he traced his hand on your sensitive nipples, gently pinching tight circles on your tits, making you arch and squirm, your own drool was dripping to the side of your lips, now he decides to lock his mouth to one of your boob and you swore you almost shot stars, "fuckkkk to'ii mhm" you mewled as his finger inserts in your pussy, it felt that good. after that he never ever lets you wear your t-shirts whenever the two of you make love. he says: "it's cute don't hide them away from mee!"
+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ .
Kento:
it's Saturday night and Kento is very frustrated in work, he's supposed to come home by now but he was asked to work overtime, despite not being home for almost a week he was forced to stay over time, by the time he got home it was already midnight and he was surprised that you were still awake waiting for him, eating ice cream and watching movies in Netflix. You rose from your seat and made your way to the hallway to greet him. "good evening, Kenn~" you chirped, planting a soft peck on his lips to which he warmly responded to. "why are you still awake, darling?" he inquired. without missing a beat, you replied, "waiting for you, of course"you tinged with a mischief tone. "did you missed me?" he asks once more "of course i did ken..." you buried your face on his chest, "soo much" you babbled, his lips tugged a small smile as he ruffled your hair, colliding his lips to yours once more.
he admits, that he's not just frustrated cause of work, he was also frustrated of being away from you, this was not the longest time the two of you were separated, but still, nanami missed you, your scent, your presence, your touch- most of all your fucking cunt. there's just one thing that he always had his mind on, why you always wear your over sized shirts while having intimate sessions with him, and it's been going on for years now, but he never questioned that cause it wasn't a trouble for the both of you so he lets you be, it never bothered him until this day.
your legs sprawled in the thick atmosphere of lust as Nanami bucks his hips on you, his balls slapping eagerly on your ass, your arms and hands were locked on his neck, toes curling, back arching and eyes rolling back in to the depths of your skull. "Kento- fuckkk" you wailed, fat beads of tears pooled down from your eyes as he lets out all his frustration on you, "were you waiting for me because you wanted me to fuck you?" he groans drilling his fat cock in your cunt, "yesyesyess" you whined, nodding repeatedly as he carves your womb with his cock. groans were heard echoing in your shared bedroom, Kento noticed that you were sweating so much that it made your clothes damp, he sees this as a opportunity to get you to take your shirt off, "how bout you take that shirt off, baby?" he murmured burying his head on the valleys of your neck, you thought, it's about time to let him know that you're flat, you've been hiding your chest from him ever since, wearing bras with big foams so he won't notice, while being fucked dumb your head was clouded with thoughts, "Nanami- do you like girls with flat chest?" your tongue slipped, as the sound traveled to your ear you realized it sounded so embarrassing, Nanami chuckles at your sudden question, "what do you mean?" "n-nothing!" you stutter "take your shirt off baby, i don't want you to be soaking with your own sweat" lie, Nanami's not the type of guy to lie but he's fucking itching to see you full naked body, thinking about it just makes his fucking mouth drool, you kissed your teeth with your lips as you hesitate looking on the opposite direction it's about time you let him know!
fuck it you thought to yourself. you pulled your head up, positioning yourself in a sitting position before tugging your shirt and bra off he watched all of it, while jerking his cock in your sopped pussy, kento's eyes widen, but it wasn't because he was disappointed, he realized that you were hiding your chest because you thought it'll matter to him, he sees your face flushing to bright pink, he ghost's his lips to yours kissing you so deep and passionately, in which you responded too, you kissed till the both of you were out off breath, "don't ever think that your body's appearance would change my love towards you, you're beautiful...i love you so fucking much" he grunts kissing your forehead, "f-fuck thank you nanaminn~!" you sobbed, "fuck, look at how cute your tits are".
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Suguru:
this man's always been so mesmerized by your body, your personality and all, the way your clothes perfectly fits your curves, the way you move in such graceful ways, he's on his knees for you, he's always been drawn to your confident and alluring demeanor, as he got to know you more telling you that he love you so much, he found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you. He loved every inch of you, but one day, as he was caressing your body, he realized something that shook him, while he had always admired your gorgeous curves and full breasts, he suddenly noticed that they were not as prominent as he had originally thought. In fact, as he ran his hands over your body, he realized that you were actually flat-chested.
At first, Suguru was taken aback. He couldn't believe that he had never noticed this before. But as he looked into your eyes, he saw the look of insecurity and fear in them
"S-suguru..." you uttered thinking that he might be disappointed... you've been hiding it from him since the beginning afraid that he'd judge you, and in that moment, he knew that it didn't matter to him. He loved you for who you were, not for the size of your breasts. he pulled you close to him, "y'know that it doesn't fucking matter to me, right? even if you looked like a pancake, I'd still love you.." he chuckle softly showering you with gentle kisses as he whispered sweet nothings of reassurance in your ear. He told you that he loved you just the way you were, that your body was perfect to him, and that he would love and cherish you no matter what. "i love you... don't ever think that you're not enough, you're more thatn enough"
you could feel the weight of your insecurities lift off your shoulders as he continued to caress and kiss your body, showering you with love and acceptance. And in that moment, you felt more beautiful and desired than ever before. sensing your newfound confidence, Suguru's hands began to roam over your body, caressing your thighs, moving his hands to your core, he was determined to show you just how much he loved and desired you, regardless of your breast size. He pulled you into a one deep passionate kiss, his lips hungrily seeking yours as his hands explored your body burning with lust. his touch was estatic, sending shivers down your spine as he worshipped your body with his hands and mouth, with each touch, each kiss, each whispered declaration of love, your insecurities quickly melted away. you were lost in a haze of pleasure and love, completely surrendering yourself to Suguru's touch,
as he entered your cunt, you could feel the intensity of his love and desire fueling every thrust. "holy- shiii s'guruu" you mewled rolling his name out off you pretty mouth as he showed you just how much he loved and, leaving you breathless and completely satisfied.
and as you both lay spent in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, you realized that Suguru's love for you was not based on your physical appearance. He loved you for everything that you were, and that was the most beautiful and empowering feeling of all. "i know you already know, but i love you" you whispered mischievously as you kissed his forehead, in which he responds with a witty chuckle pulling you into a bear hug.
➽──────────────────────❥
Satoru:
satoru had been spending more and more time at your apartment lately. ever since he insisted to join your bathing time, he seemed to always find an excuse to come over and spend time with you. and as much as you enjoyed his sweet company, you couldn't help but to feel self-conscious around him. you had always been too insecure about your body's appearance, specifically your flat chest. you had spent years hiding it away, wearing oversized clothes and avoiding situations where you would have to expose yourself.
but now that Satoru was around, you couldn't avoid it any longer. you knew he had seen you in your shower room, but you always made sure to cover yourself up as quickly as possible. However, today was different. You had been caught up in the moment, lost in the sensation of the warm water cascading over your body, when you heard the door to your shower room open. You quickly tried to cover yourself, but Satoru was already standing there, a smirk on his face.
"So this is where you've been hiding," he said, his eyes roaming over your body.
You felt your face heat up in embarrassment, trying to cover your chest with your arms. But Satoru's eyes never left you, and you couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze.
"I-I'm sorry," you stuttered, not knowing what else to say.
Satoru chuckled, stepping closer to you. "there's no need to apologize. I like what I see."
you couldn't believe what you were hearing. you were used to being teased and mocked for your flat chest, but satoru seemed genuinely interested in you. before you could say anything else, he leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss.
his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of your skin. you couldn't help but moan against his lips, melting into his touch. satoru seemed to know exactly what he was doing, his hands finding all your sensitive spots and driving you crazy with desire.
he broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of hot kisses in his wake. You couldn't help but let out a soft gasp as he reached your chest, his fingers teasing your nipples to hardness.
He pulled back, looking at you with a devilish smirk. "you're so responsive. I can't wait to see how you react to my touch."
and with that, he dropped to his knees, his mouth latching onto your nipple. The sensation was overwhelming, sending shivers down your spine. you couldn't hold back your moans any longer, your hands tangling in satoru's wet hair as the water runs down to your heated bodies, he sucked and licked at your chest, giving them the attention they deserve.
it wasn't until Satoru pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his face, that you realized he had seen your flat chest. you braced yourself for the teasing and mocking, but to your surprise, Satoru merely leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You're perfect just the way you are."
and with that, he stood up and pulled you in for a passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your body once again. You felt a surge of confidence wash over you, feeling desired and wanted for the first time in a long time.
satoru led you to your bedroom, and the two of you fell on your bed in a tangle of limbs and passion. He didn't hold back, showing you just how much he desired you. he whispered dirty words in your ear, "good, fucking girl" he murmurs, his fingers finding all your sensitive spots and driving you crazy with pleasure.
you had never felt so much pleasure, satoru was dominant and in control, yet he made sure to worship every inch of your body, making you feel like the most beautiful person in the world rather the most perfect person in the whole entire universe.
as you both reached the peak of pleasure, satoru held you close, his lips pressed against your forehead. And in that moment, you knew that he accepted you for who you were, flaws and all. And that was all that mattered.
"goodness, your tits drives me crazy, girl!" he says plopping his body to your side catching his uneven breath.
a/n: i enjoyed writing this, cause as a woman with a flat ass chest...this is just mwaa! this is also self indulgent :p
tags: @lillywillypeepiepopilly
(if you want to get tagged just comment down below!)
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mobblespsycho100 · 2 days
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which one’s toshiro and whys he autistic?
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[ID: full body colored illustration of toshiro from the dungeon meshi manga. /End ID]
THIS FREAKIN GUY!!!! anyway
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[ID: anonymous tumblr ask: "would def love to hear ur autistic shuro thoughts". /End ID]
awesome. rant under the cut because it will be long
So before we understand why Toshiro is the way he is we must first understand two things abt him:
1. his household situation is a very traditional clan of warriors type situation. his father is very strict and he left his homeland to go to the Island and explore the dungeon to train and become a warrior to be someone suited as the family head
2. Eastern and Western cultures of respect/propriety are different, and Ryoko Kui highlights it well even in her fantasy world.
With that in mind, heres some bullet point rapid fire thoughts that consume my current state of dunmeshi brain:
Toshiro has an avoidant personality. He fears upsetting others due to his upbringing, and rarely tells others how he feels not because he thinks they would simply understand him but because he doesn't want to seem rude and imposing / cause offense to others especially since he's not in his own homeland / hes a foreigner that should respect the land's customs, not his own wishes.
Setting boundaries is hard for everyone, but especially autistic (and some other ND, like those with Avoidant Personality Disorder) people. Those with ASD, at least in my experience, don't want to be isolated from others. So they mask.
They mask what? their desires. their true selves. their opinions. their discomfort. all for the sake of pleasing others (who are often neurotypical)
With that in mind, suddenly, what Maizuru said abt him as a child makes sense. Due to his strict upbringing, Toshiro had to more or less hide his preferences and force himself to adapt to the rigid constraints of his culture and the pressure to be the next family head, this responsibility is his burden to bear and he cannot be someone who expresses his selfish desires instead of focusing on being a strong warrior and leader
"Why did he say he hate Laios and that it should've been obvious that he disliked/found Laios' treatment of him uncomfortable??" BECAUSE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS. I'm not going to write off Laios' autism/autistic coding, but its baffling (note: definitely racism and bias for white autistic ppl) to me that a lot of ppl don't see Toshiro's perspective and straight up ignores it. This is a lack of wanting to be rude by speaking up that is based on culture difference on Toshiro's part, and straight up ignorant of his microagressions/racism and lack of self awareness on Laios' end. They were both right, they were both wrong too. This is a complicated conflict that cannot be boiled down to simple ableist/the NT vs ND divide. There's something called . intersectionality. Which brings me to the next point
Toshiro never actually hated Laios. He found him uncomfortable, yes. But he didn't /hate/ him, he was speaking out because he's had enough!!! he's done tolerating Laios' racist bullshit, and he's done following the arbitrary Eastern rules of respecting others and not being rude!!! He. Wants. Laios. To Understand. What. He. Was. Feeling. Because he just had enough!!!!! alright!!! he's at his limit hes at his breaking point, the one he loves is now probably beyond saving, and this is a good time as any to break the news to Laios that he thinks that Laios is impulsive and doesn't fully understand how his actions have consequences!!! Hes right abt this. His feelings on this is valid, just as valid as Laios'
General autistic traits I find from Toshiro: his admiration of Falin's indifference towards insects ("woah shes so brave and gentle!! just like me, fr!!!"), His lack of regard for his own needs and wants (needing to sleep and eat and drink) because he was super focused on saving Falin, His lack of like drastic expression changes, his discomfort with physical touch when it's initiated without consent (see: Laios hugging ppl extra bonus art by Ryoko Kui), his manner of like speaking short and concise, people pleasing tendencies, his like quick way of combat, rule upholder/routine following enjoyer, he seems distant from others even those he consider family not cuz of like any terrible reason but hes just. someone who enjoys his own time alone like. yeah
aannnnndd. thats abt it? i think.
Big part of this is definitely me relating to Shiro as an Asian (specifically chinese indonesian) person who is probably Autistic lmao. I hope this brings more insight on why Toshiro is actually one of the silliest and epiccest dunmeshi characters ever I love him
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ckret2 · 2 days
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Chapter 49 of human Bill Cipher being such a miserable prisoner even the Pines are starting to feel bad for him: The Eclipse: Epilogue.
####
"The heck did you do to that poor woman?" Tate asked, staring out the window. Bill was sitting on the pier, legs dangling in the water, staring blankly into the depths. He was still muddy and trembling. "She looks more traumatized than when y'all left."
Ford couldn't meet Tate's gaze under the brim of his hat, but he could feel Tate raising a brow when he spotted Dipper pacing back and forth on the pier behind Bill, muttering furiously.
"We've had a very bad day," Ford said. 
"Uh-huh."
"Could I borrow your phone to call my brother?"
Outside, Dipper was oblivious to everything except the one line he'd managed to remember from the Axolotl, the words he'd picked out as they crossed the lake. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,'" Dipper murmured. He knew that much. It was a poem. It was a rhyme. He couldn't remember the rest. What did it mean? He murmured it over and over to himself as he walked, trying to remember the next line, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,' 'sixty degrees that come in threes'... breeze, freeze, ease, lease, knees—" He couldn't remember the rhyme.
Bill was considering grabbing Dipper by the ankle and dragging him off the pier just to shut him up when whatsisname, the younger McGucket came out of the shop. "Hello there? Miss Goldie?"
Human. Strange human. Human that Bill could get on his side. Be charming. He tried to remember how to be charming. He offered a feeble smile. "Yello?"
"I wanted to make sure you're all right," Tate said. "You look like you, uh... you've had a hard time."
Bill laughed ruefully. "Well, I've been dragged all over the mountain, I'm hungry, exhausted, and half-drowned, and I can barely walk—but I'm not currently dead. Allegedly. I'll take what I can get."
The corners of Tate's mouth twitched down in a concerned frown. "Is there anything you need? A..." He floundered for a moment, "A water, or...?"
"I've had enough water to last me a lifetime." He wondered idly whether he could claim he was too exhausted to make it all the way home—there was a sofa in the staff room, Tate would probably let the poor bedraggled "woman" take a nap, if Bill got that bit of distance between himself and the Pines maybe he could... maybe he could... do something with it? But he couldn't think of anything more definite than that and now Ford was coming back and the window of opportunity closed. He shrugged wearily. "Just need to get back to the shack. Thanks." He half heartedly used the lake water to wash the drying mud off his lower legs and knees.
"Stan will be here in about twenty minutes," Ford said, and tried to ignore the dirty look Tate gave him. 
"I'll be just inside if you need anything else," Tate said. "Watching." He headed inside—and then, indeed, stood at the shop window and watched.
Ford was never going to get on Tate's good side. He suspected Tate would be a little less sympathetic to the poor woman on the pier if he knew who he really was; but it certainly wouldn't make Tate like Ford any better for keeping him around.
"Nothing to do now but wait." Ford unloaded the rest of their supplies from the borrowed motor boat. He dropped Soos's Monster-Mon backpack beside Bill—it was heavy, Bill must have just shoved his clothes and bedsheet straight in without bothering to wring out the water—and the plastic bag of snacks Dipper had bought. "You ought to eat more while we wait." Ford nudged the snack bag.
Bill sneered at it. "I don't want that trash."
"What?" Ford examined the bag's contents. Jerky, chips, candy, cups of marshmallow cereal... "This is ninety percent of what you eat."
"Ninety percent of what I eat is what I can scavenge from the counters."
Ford looked through the bag again. Ah. Right. So it was. "If you want something else, you know you can ask us to..."
"Mac and cheese."
Maybe Ford had better stop talking. He sighed and glanced at Dipper to see how he was doing.
It didn't look like Dipper had even registered Ford's return, too busy pacing and muttering to himself. Ford frowned. "Dipper?"
"Axolotl," Bill explained. "He's obsessing over him. Didn't I tell you that meeting that thing would drive him insane?" He tilted his head toward Dipper. "Look at that, he's already mumbling to himself. Don't suppose you have his therapist's number, do you? I doubt that would save him, but it might slow the process—"
Ford shushed him.
Dipper had briefly tuned back into the conversation when he heard Bill say Axolotl; and now he grit his teeth and stubbornly tuned it back out. No. He was not going insane. Dipper would figure this out. If he just remembered the rest he'd be fine. He tried to go through all the potential rhymes alphabetically, "—bees, cease, d—deez?" That wasn't a word. "Fees, geese, he's..." and on and on, "seas, tees, uh... vees? Wheeze..."
"I've had enough of you trying to convince that boy he's about to go mad," Ford muttered to Bill. "What do you get out saying that? Even if you do convince him he's insane, it won't make him start trusting anything else you say."
"I'm not lying," Bill said heatedly. "You ought to know that, you've been in the multiverse, you've seen plenty of maddening sights. You saw them before you even left the Nightmare Realm."
Ford hesitated before responding; was Bill trying to persuade Ford he was insane? But he could still remember those first few moments of terror in the Nightmare Realm: the creatures that had seemed to move and shift in impossible ways as they swam in and out of dimensions Ford couldn't see, the lights and colors that throbbed like an inverted migraine, Bill himself seemingly suspended a million light years away and a foot in front of Ford's face at the same time. Until Ford had latched onto his quest to destroy Bill and let that focus him, his mind had felt like an unraveling sock. "You were chief among those maddening sights."
"I was," Bill acknowledged neutrally.
"But I didn't go insane."
"Because you knew when to look away." He cast a sideways glance at Dipper, an implicit unlike him. "I know you used to read cosmic horror. Do you know why the narrator always goes mad just from looking at some giant beast? It's not because it's too ugly to take. It's because once you meet something, you try to understand it; but if you want to understand the reality something like that comes from," he rolled an eye up toward where the invisible Axolotl had hung in the sky, "you have to lose your understanding of your own reality. They're incompatible. Like the lunatics who escaped Plato's cave and came back ranting about nonsense like sunlight and colors."
It was a twisted interpretation of the cave allegory. Plato had meant it as a metaphor for education: that learning about the true nature of reality was enlightening, but alienated you from your peers.
Perhaps to Bill, enlightenment and insanity were the same thing.
Ford murmured, "Once your eyes have been too dazzled by the sunlight to see the dim shadows, you'll never be awed by a candle again."
"You have been there before."
Ford didn't answer.
"Once you've seen something like that, if you let yourself dwell on the significance of it all, you're doomed. Better to tell yourself it's unimportant and try to forget it ever happened."
Ford thought of Fiddleford.
Bill twisted around to snap tiredly at Dipper, "So stop staring at the sun before you go blind, moron."
"Shut up." Dipper had been trying to mentally drown out Bill's dire predictions by grasping for more rhymes—"disease, unease, Socrates"—but enough filtered through to make his stomach churn with nervousness. What if Bill was right? What if he never remembered what the Axolotl told him—what if he drove himself mad trying? What if this turned into a lifelong obsession—but he'd be fine and could let it go once he remembered—was that the trap? Was whatever it had told him impossible for a human to remember? Was it something so incomprehensible a human couldn't remember it without going crazy?
But he'd seen plenty of stuff last summer that was supposed to make humans go "insane." Bill had to be messing with him. He remembered the first line—surely that meant he could remember the rest—but was that part of the trap? "'Sixty degrees that come in threes'... come on, there's something else, I know it, what is it? 'Sixty degrees that come in threes'—"
Bill sighed irritably. "'Watches through the eyes in trees.'"
Dipper stopped pacing. He hadn't realized he'd raised his voice enough to be audible. "What?"
"What?" Bill said.
"What's the rest of it?"
"What rest of it? It's a couplet. That's all," Bill said. "Is that what he told you? He gets rhymey when he feels self-important, it's no big deal. Maybe you're lucky. Put it out of your head and you'll be fine."
Dipper turned the words over in his head. Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches through the eyes in trees... "That's not exactly right," he said slowly. "It was 'watches from within birch trees.'"
"Is that how he translated it? I've never heard it in English before. I got close, though, I knew it'd rhyme."
Ford echoed, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes.' Like a triangle?"
Dipper gave him a perplexed look. "What?"
"You're taking geometry next year, aren't you? The inner angles of polygons always have the same number of degrees; and a triangle has a hundred and eighty degrees. Three angles of sixty degrees forms... an equilateral triangle."
Dipper and Ford stared at Bill.
Bill gave them a tired, unreadable look. "What?" he said. "Don't look at me. I'm not the only equilateral triangle in the universe."
Well, now Dipper was sure there was more to the poem than just a couplet. "How many other equilateral triangles spy on people through birch trees?"
"Lay off," Bill said crabbily. "I didn't have to tell you that line. Don't make me regret it." He planted his elbows on his knees, laced his hands together, pressed his forehead to them, and massaged his eyelids with his thumbs.
He tilted slightly to the right, keeping the weight of his head off his left arm.
####
"Nice shirt," Stan said, eyeing Ford's anger management t-shirt.
"If you like it, you can have it."
"What happened to your coat?"
"Somewhere at the bottom of the lake," Ford sighed.
"How...?"
"I'll fill you in later."
Bill's trembling was almost unnoticeable by the time Stan arrived. Or, at least, it was slight enough that he could stand and make the short walk from the pier to the car without an obvious struggle. 
He climbed into the back seat, slid across the bench, leaned against the door, wrapped his arms around his Monster-Mon backpack, fell asleep, and didn't wake up for the entire drive home.
Dipper and Ford fell silent when they noticed; and, sensing the heavy atmosphere, Stan followed suit.
####
The event organizers for Higher Dimensional Gate had arranged for the Magister Mentium's audience to surround him in a circle with as large a circumference as possible, so that as many shapes as possible could pack into the first few rows where they could see him. Even so, the crowd was much too large for everyone to be in the first few rows. Speakers had to be planted throughout the crowd so that they'd all be able to hear the Magister speak. Most of his audience couldn't see him.
But he, with his all-seeing eye, could see all of them.
The crowd extended back, row after row after row, in every direction like flecks of multicolor confetti filling the air all the way to the horizon. He'd never spoken to such a large crowd before. He didn't think he'd ever seen such a large crowd before.
Not all of them were his worshipers. He didn't have that many worshipers. The rest were drawn in by his boast—to be the first shape outside of legends to predict an eclipse, over six months ahead of schedule. They were here for a spectacle. He meant to give them one.
If he succeeded, all these spectators would become his worshipers, he was sure of it. If he didn't succeed, he lost everything. The whole nation knew about his bet. He'd be financially ruined. His worshipers would abandon him. There would be no fleeing to a new town and starting over; everyone everywhere knew who he was. His life would be over.
This would be only the third eclipse he could recall. There's no way to neatly map shape ages onto human ages. Different year lengths, different aging speeds, different mental and physical milestones. But approximately, compared to a human, he was scarcely over fifteen years old. 
But he wouldn't fail. He pushed all his fears aside. He didn't even want to think about them. He wouldn't, because he couldn't, because he could see what nobody else saw. He could see the eclipse's approach.
It was traveling across the vast empty gulf outside the world.
The only other third dimensional objects he'd ever seen were the sun—which looked to him like a circle—and the stars—which seemed to be mere points. He assumed all third dimensional objects were fundamentally just second dimensional objects, moving on a strange plane. He had no capacity to model a 3D object in his mind.
But the eclipse was a beast that twirled and gyrated around impossible axes, moving and rotating in ways his eye couldn't even comprehend. To him, it looked as though the living creature—he assumed it was a living creature, sometimes it manifested a couple of limbs or an eye—was constantly shapeshifting, its perimeter moving and altering. Its uncanny undulations had haunted his nightmares for months after he first watched it, so young he'd barely started school. It wasn't any less nightmarish now.
But as incomprehensible and terrifying as it was, he could see it, and nobody else here could, and that was all that mattered. He could watch it on the horizon and publicly announce that it would cross the sun in two weeks—and then in about three days—and then, to his humiliation, not tomorrow but today, guaranteed, as the creature sped up and threw off his estimate. His worshipers and bemused spectators had taken over the square to while away the time. They'd quickly gathered around him to wait after he'd declared it would arrive within the hour
That had been almost an hour and a half ago. The stupid thing had slowed down.
The triangle was terrified.
In every direction, shapes were staring at him. Waiting. His father was watching him—his stare seemed to grow heavier by the minute. He could see reporters in the crowd taking notes.
He had to fight not to pace, not to cringe, not to show any nerves in front of the hundreds of eyes.
Now. It had to be now. It was so close. Please don't let him be wrong. Every cord in his body quivered in terror as he grabbed his microphone and announced: "Lines, bis, tris—quads, quints, and more! My dear students and beloved believers, and my—" he cut off the urge to say something nastier, "—curious visitors, who I hope will join our quest for enlightenment. This is the moment you've been waiting for! The eclipse is upon us! In less than a minute, it will begin!" He had to keep his gaze forward as he spoke, looking at his audience. (His mother had always said the way his eye went white when he was looking at the third dimension unnerved people.) "Soon—you won't have to take all my claims about the third dimension on faith. You'll be able to see for yourself the effect of the third dimension on the plane."
The crowd murmured excitedly. He could see his father relax. He stared up-but-not-north, gnawing nervously on his eyelid until he caught himself. The beast above glowed a warm pink in the light of the nearby sun.
And the stupid thing. Slowed. Again.
He stared in disbelief.
"Sixty seconds," his father whispered, out of range of the microphone.
His stomach flopped. He was dead.
"One minute, fifteen seconds. What's going—?"
He held his microphone away and hissed, "The eclipse decided to zigzag."
"Eclipses can zigzag?"
"Shhh!" He'd already failed. He'd already shown everyone he was wrong. He could hear the murmurs. His eye hurt from staring at the sun and from straining for so long to turn so far upward-not-northward, go faster faster faster—
There! The snout of the eclipse was this close to kissing the perimeter of the sun. He cried triumphantly, "Now!"
The wretched beast did a loop-the-loop around the sun and missed it entirely.
The triangle felt the last strands of his fraying self-composure snap.
He howled in rage.
He could hear laughs from the crowd. They felt like daggers in his sides.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" He was bellowing into outer space as if he thought it might hear him, "Do your think this is a game?! Is this funny?! Are you trying to humiliate me in front of the whole world!" His father put a hand on his arm; the triangle shoved him away. "Get back here right now! You thick, brainless, blobby, pink, feeler-faced two-eyed freak of nature! GET BACK HERE and LOOK ME IN THE EYE!" He was a lunatic, everyone would know it, their leader raving in a direction no one could actually see about some big pink delusion, what did he care, no one would ever take him seriously again anyway—
And the thing in the sky.
Stopped.
And looped back.
And came closer, and closer, and bigger, and bigger—it just kept getting bigger, how far away had it been before, how large was it, how large was the sun?
He hardly noticed the crowd's gasp as the creature twirled between them and the sun—the light shone through its body, pink with blood—and then out of the way, and then in again, and out—until finally it was so close that its perimeter completely engulfed the sun. He'd taken a field trip to the planet's surface once—an enormous solid mass of stone and crystal. Until now, he'd never seen another solid objects so large. To his limited understanding of 3D objects, it looked as though there were no organs inside its perimeter—just a layer of solid, uninterrupted flesh. He didn't know how it could even move.
It stopped straight over him.
He was sure the two black circles embedded inside its body must be its eyes. His whole life he'd heard psychic powers—psychic powers like his own—described as having an "inner eye." But he'd thought the phrase was just a metaphor. An eye on the inside of a body instead of on its perimeter would be useless to most people. He'd never seen a creature with an eye literally on the inside of its body. But the eclipse had two.
And they were looking at him.
A giant ever-shapeshifting cosmic horror from outside of reality, staring through the veil separating the sane world from outerplanar space, and it was looking—at—him.
He was terrified.
He heard an alien voice in his head, vast and deep and slow as distant whale song:
"Hello there!" It was overjoyed. It was tickled pink. "I've never been spoken to by a shape on the wall before. I didn't know you could see off of it!"
Weakly, the triangle repeated, "'A shape on the'...?"
"Yes, this wall of yours." The eclipse gestured with its tail at—everything. A single sweep that took in an entire dimension. "I've probably commuted past this wall billions of times, and nothing's ever called to me before. I didn't know shadows could do that!"
"'Shadows'?" the triangle echoed again. That was all they were? An eclipse's shadows?
"I'm absolutely delighted," the eclipse said. "First contact from a lower-dimensional species! I've watched you for eons and never imagined. Isn't this exciting! How charming of you! Tell me who you are."
Him? "Me?"
"Of course. Who else?" It stared at him. Only him. A shapeshifting force of nature the size of a planet with two inner eyes, an eclipse that saw him as a shadow—and it was looking only at him.
Weakly, he said, "I'm... the Magister Mentium."
The eclipse thought that over. Its tone was a tad dubious and not terribly impressed (why should it be impressed? he was embarrassed at himself for giving his silly puffed-up title)—but it said, "Yes, I suppose that's true. I am the Axolotl. It's been a pleasure meeting you." It began to shapeshift again—its eyes slid sideways through its body, until one reached its perimeter and disappeared.
It dawned on the triangle, in its first immature understanding of third dimensional objects, that its eye had disappeared because the Axolotl was turning away. "Wait!" he cried. "Why..." Why answer him? Why focused on him so completely, if he was just a shadow? Why ask who he was like he mattered? He didn't even know how to put those questions to words in his own mind, much less out loud. "Why are you here so early?"
The Axolotl turned back to the triangle. "Oh! I had to go back for some documents I forgot at the office. Big case in the morning," it said. "You shadows know my schedule?"
"You... pass in front of the sun."
The Axolotl turned away, eyes disappearing and frills fluttering, to look at the sun. "So I do! How funny." It turned toward the triangle and gave him a strange, grotesque look that—by the tone of its psychic voice—he suspected was a smile. "I must get going. I'll be heading into the office a few hours late tomorrow, but perhaps I'll see you again then." And it turned away. It felt like it took forever for the enormous body to sail over-not-north-of the triangle—and pass, at last, out of the sun's path.
The triangle didn't look down-but-not-south until someone shook his side—his father. He lowered his dazed gaze to the crowd—the cheering, applauding crowd. Ma-gi-ster, Ma-gi-ster. A sea of multicolor confetti shapes that filled the air to the horizon.
Shadows.
His father shook him again—"Go on, say something. They're waiting"—and the triangle held up his mic as though he were in a dream. He tried to remember what he was supposed to say. "I was right," he said flatly. "Just like I always told you. I can see the third dimension. The realm of dreams—of colors, of light, and..." The lies left a sick taste in the back of his eye. He couldn't say them. Points of light in darkness and pink nightmares.
"I'm s— You'll all have to excuse me," he said, his voice childish and small. "I can't—I've had a... a... profound... spiritual experience. I must meditate on the revelations I've received." The words felt like woo-woo mumbo-jumbo. "The next eclipse will be a few months after the new year." It seemed important, for some reason, to pass that information on. Wasn't that what he always said he did? Share the wisdom of third dimensional spirits with his followers? "I... have to go now."
His father took his elbow. "This is your moment," he whispered. "Come on, son—you don't want to lose your chance to speak directly to them, do you?"
He shoved the microphone in his father's side. "You speak to them."
"But—"
"I can't," he said. "I can't."
He cut through the crowd as fast as it would part for him—if they were any slower, he'd have started stabbing his way through—haunted the whole way by their applause.
####
And that was it.
From the Axolotl's perspective, he had just had a brief pleasant exchange with a precocious tadpole in a sidewalk puddle.
From the triangle's perspective, he might as well have been standing on the boat deck watching as Cthulhu rose from his millennia of dead slumber at the bottom of the ocean, turned to the fragile vessel bobbing on the waves, and said, "Good morning! Glorious weather we're having, isn't it?"
And from the perspective of the Higher Dimensional Gate, their Magister Mentium had predicted an eclipse, been rightfully insulted when it didn't come the exact second he ordered it, and furiously summoned down an eclipse darker and swifter and longer than any in recorded history.
Up until then, he had been seen as, at best, an oracle. A prophet. A messenger to share the secrets of the third dimension, but that was all he could do. But now, he had commanded forces in an unseen dimension, creating an eclipse months before it was natural. He had made it flicker on and off like he had his finger on the sun's light switch. News reports and the most unimpeachable scientific authorities reported that the eclipse had centered on the location of the Higher Dimensional Gate rally, narrowed down to an inexplicably small radius around that point, and then remained unchanged for several long minutes, long enough for anyone in its shadow to grow fatigued from the missing sunshine. Nothing like that had ever happened before. It defied every known fact about the science of eclipses.
People around the gathering—even people who had known nothing about the Higher Dimensional Gate rally—reported that during the eclipse, they'd become inexplicably disoriented, unable to tell compass directions, and had felt themselves fall toward the darkness—as if gravity's pull had suddenly moved from the south to the epicenter of the eclipse. Public building inspections confirmed that somehow the entire town had shifted, ever so slightly, closer to the epicenter. Closer to the Magister.
Never mind prophecy; as far as the Magister's rapidly-increasing followers were concerned, he might have been a god.
It was the greatest triumph a baby cult leader could ask for.
He barely noticed.
####
For days, he could hardly sleep, speak, or think. He kept losing track of conversations to stare into space. Now, it awed his followers when his eye turned an empty white—he must have been communing with something in a higher dimension.
He didn't argue. It was better than letting them know he was losing his mind.
He spent his time alone locked in his room, pacing back and forth, trying not to look up-but-not-north and failing. Dwelling on the significance of it all. Feeling like he'd never figure it out.
He used to love cosmic horror stories, back when he had time to read. They followed a reliable pattern: the hero travels farther than any rational shape ever should, meets something big, and goes mad from the realization.
And what was it that the hero always realized? That he was a dust fleck in the firmament. That he was insignificant. That he didn't matter. That there were things out there he'd never seen before and would never truly understand, and that they cared not for mere shadows on the wall like him, and that in the grand scheme of the cosmos he was nothing. That he was utterly unimportant.
In moments of what felt like lucidity in between the shivering horror, the triangle  wryly acknowledged that it was no surprise he'd ended up in a cosmic horror story. He could see into another dimension. In the stories he'd read, that made it all but inevitable.
But all the authors had gotten the maddening revelation wrong. He could have handled knowing he was nothing. It almost would have been a relief. 
True horror was knowing he mattered.
He'd spent the majority of his young life selling the idea that he was oh-so-important, as part of a big con to trick gullible idiots into liking him and flinging cash at his rotten undeserving family—and he'd only been able to do it because when the guilt got to him, when his conscience asked what would become of the shapes forking over their life savings on false promises of divine secrets, he could look out into bleak black space and tell himself that nothing really mattered, nothing was important, nothing he'd ever do would really make a difference, and the people he manipulated didn't matter any more than he did. He meant everything to his worshipers, and nothing to the universe. He could do anything and it didn't matter.
For a moment, a vast mind-melting shape-shifting incomprehensible eldritch god had focused its full attention on him—of all the universe, of all the dimensions beyond the known universe, it had looked at him and only him—a mere shadow on the wall, and yet in that moment, it found him interesting. It found him worthy of notice. He had screamed into the cold uncaring void, and the void had cared. For a moment, he'd held cosmic importance. He mattered. His actions mattered.
He'd felt it see him as important, but why? What was so important about him? There had to have been something significant he'd done, something he showed it, something in what he said. He replayed their conversation in his mind over and over and over and over, trying to remember what he'd done that proved he mattered.
He didn't know what it was. He couldn't find it. All he could remember was just... being.
The writers were wrong. Cosmic horror wasn't when an elder god's eyes slid past you without noticing you existed. It was when the elder god gazed down at you at your lowest and bleakest, during your most petty and selfish act of mass swindling, from a dimension where not even slamming the door and shutting your eye could shield you from its gaze—and it decided you were worth caring about. Cosmic horror was when you encountered a colossal alien that planted the incomprehensibly alien idea in your head that you had an inherent worth just because you existed. Cosmic horror was when a force of nature asked the name of a shadow on the wall.
If it was true... if it all mattered... then what was he doing? How could he? What had he done?
####
He was lucky—he was lucky that his parents had raised him to think so clearly about issues like morality and money and easy marks. His only saving grace was that he was too rational to seriously entertain the Axolotl's mad ideas.
And yet, his mind boiled with mad regret. It blazed with insane guilt. The heat of it could burn him out. It was months before he could continue his public sermons without feeling sick—and even once he did, he could still feel the delusion that what he did mattered, festering in his mind.
It would fester for the next trillion years.
####
(And that concludes this plot arc! I hope y'all enjoyed it!! I'd love to hear what y'all thought of the whole thing—especially now that we've looped back to the original eclipse. 😁)
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adventuringblind · 17 hours
Text
Entitled To You (3.6K words)
Norstaptri x Reader
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: An incident with Lance sends the boys into a frenzy. She just wants to do what she loves.
Warnings: Explicit depictions of r@pe, injury descriptions, panic attacks, Oscar plots a murder, Lando throws hands, Car crashes, Author doesn't know legal stuff, Head trauma and blood.
Notes: This one is a request from @Lily234566 I know this wasn't the original pairing but I was struggling to fit the Ferrari boys in there so I had to scale it back... I'm sorry and I hope you still like it! T_T
Side Note: Sorry to the Lance girlies reading this. AND obligatory message of I don't know these people and this is purely FICTION! HEAD THE TAGS! DONT LIKE THEN DONT READ!
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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“Max!” She peeks her head into his driver's room. The bright beaming smile she receives in return after their 1-2 nearly kills her. “They want me for a media thing, apparently.” HIs smile drops into a pout. The sad puppy eyes might convince her to stay. 
“Again? Don’t they know we have plans!
“No, and why would they care anyway?” She looks him up and down and whines because he’s standing in front of her with no shirt on. “Just - I’ll meet you guys back at the room. It’s something to do with being a female in F1… again.”
“I’m starting to think they have nothing else to talk about.” 
She shrugs as she walks out of the hospitality, waving to Christian on her way by. The goal is to get past the Mclaren garage without seeing Lando because otherwise she is not going to the interview. His pout is worse (better?) than Max’s. 
To her pleasant surprise, Laura is the one conducting the interview. “I’m sorry about this being last minute! They said they wanted you to do it with someone else next week and I offered to do it now.” 
The interview passes with ease and thankfully doesn’t take long at all. The banter in-between is also entertaining. 
She’s exhausted when they finish. Ready to go back to the hotel and fall into bed with her boys. Hopefully They’ve ordered food - and dessert. 
The paddock is nearly empty as she makes her way through. Maybe, had she been paying more attention and not focussed on her aching body, she would’ve caught on to the footsteps behind her. 
They are heavy, she assumes possibly a mechanic still packing up to continue on their way to the next circuit. That’s what she still thinks when the hand on her bicep yanks her around the corner. 
If she weren’t as exhausted, then fighting would’ve been a possibility. However, that seems out of the cards as he pins her against the nearest wall. Her forehead hitting the surface hard enough to make her dizzy. 
“Not so confident now, huh?” 
The fuck- “Lance? What are you?-” He slams her head again and cages her body against his own. She flails, only to be slammed again. “Would you stop doing that please?” 
“Not after that stupid stunt you pulled today on track.”
“You mean the one where you showed you don’t know what brakes are?-” Again, her head is sent into the hard surface. She can feel her nose starting to bleed. “Must you?!” She decided to shut up when he does it again and everything starts to go fuzzy. 
His fingers dip beneath the waistband of her fireproofs. The cold evening air hits her bare skin and she panics more than before. Her head is too cloudy to fully comprehend what’s happening. 
“I feel like I'm entitled to a bit of compensation after that stunt.” 
“You’re entitled to nothing. You took yourself out!” She hisses through gritted teeth. Still, Lance continues to get her clothes lower. And slams her head again harder - you know - because she wasn’t disoriented enough already.
“Would you shut up?” She doesn’t say anything this time. Her mouth feels numb and her ears are ringing. Her exposed lower half is met with the bare hands of someone she doesn't want touching her. 
It's - well - it hurts. He's groping at her thighs, ass, even her tits which she isn't sure how he's managing. His hands are everywhere they shouldn't be. 
And then nothing. 
A vague awareness of what's happening seeps through her veins and invades her senses. She tries to scream. Attempts despite the sheer pain of the snap of hips she didn't ask for. 
His finger beat her to it. A hand encloses around her throat and cuts off her oxygen. The black spots dance around her vision. She wants them to stop moving; they are making her dizzy. Or was she already dizzy? 
“See, it's not so bad. Don't you feel less guilty for ruining my race now?” No, she doesn't. She wasn't guilty before. 
She blacks out. 
~~~♡~~~
Waking up with sore limbs and a killer headache is not how she pictured this night going. She tries to yell for help, but a mere creaky rasp escapes. 
When did she lose her voice? The thought makes her panic more. The sob she lets out hurts more than there is sound. 
Her face and hair is sticky. At least Lance had done her the courtesy of not finishing inside of her. 
Still - what the fuck even happened? The fragmented memory is trying to come back to her slowly. Each small piece remembered is another broken cry. 
She can't move. 
It's dark again. 
~~~♡~~~
The anxiety between the three boys is certainly not something they are used to. Oscar can pinpoint the exact moment Lando started overthinking and Max had to bear hug him so he didn't pace a hole into the cement of the parking lot. 
The fourth seat in their car remains empty and their messages have gone unanswered. It's getting more concerning with each passing minute. 
“Max, she always responds.” 
“I know Lando.” 
“She always calls if she's going to be longer.” 
“Lando?”
“Yes?”
“Would you feel better if we went and looked around for her?” 
The Brit nods his head in a fashion that might give him whiplash. It's better seeing him feel helpful then sit helplessly. Though Oscar can't help but agree with Max's original point. that they should wait there at the car just in case since that's where they were supposed to meet. 
Granted, it's only been twenty minutes. It's still long enough to be murdered. 
They Methodically peer around corners and wave at the mechanics who give them skeptical looks. They were supposed to be out for post race celebrations by now. 
Oscar freezes when he sees it. The human shaped lump lying on the ground. He rushes over with long strides. The closer he gets, the more familiar the person on the ground becomes. 
“Max! Lando! I found her!” The other two boys come sprinting in his direction. He's on the ground trying to clear her hair from her face only for it to get stuck in the sticky substance coating her features. 
“What the fuck?” 
Her fireproofs are still on, but it's obvious what happened. The handprints on her neck, the blood trickling down the sides of her face. “We need to bring her to a hospital.” 
Max hoists her up in his arms. Mainly because Lando is on the brink of tears and struggling to breathe through his panic. He loves deeply and with his heart on his sleeve. Oscar just hopes he can keep the Brit calm until they find more help. 
“Can we at least clean her up?” Lando pleads with him. Big Hazel eyes brimming with tears. 
It's always a struggle to tell him no. “We can't, not if it can help us figure out who did it.” The tears start right after that. 
“So that’s what happened then? Someone really-” Oscar has to maneuver the puddle of tears that is his boyfriend into the passenger seat of their rental car. Max tosses him the keys, opting to be with her in the back and keep her comfortable. 
The tricky drive to emergency is more because Oscar is too far in his own thoughts to pay attention to the traffic lights. He can hear Max moving her around, attempting to put pressure where blood still flows freely. 
Oscar doesn’t bother with parking. He pulls off into some empty area and helps Max shoulder her weight inside the doors while Lando runs ahead to find help. 
It’s fast after that. They take her away and start patching her up while the three of them are forced to sit in the waiting room. Oscar and Lando are left to their own devices while Max paces about on the phone with Christian. 
He feels like a knife is being driven through his chest each time his mind tries to come up with what could’ve happened. Who would do something like this? Unfortunately, a lot of people. The question is more of who could’ve done it and gotten away. Someone with access to the paddock this late. Security, perhaps? Maybe even a sleazy mechanic? A driver wouldn’t make any sense… right?
“When will they let us see her?”
“When she wakes up, most likely.”
He’s not sure when he falls asleep. The exhaustion finally hit him like a truck despite his persistence. He’s awoken by Max’s constant shaking and aggressive whispering of his name. 
“-She’s asking for us.” 
He’s up faster than Lando when Jon threatens an ice bath. They follow the nurse down the halls with an uneasy anticipation. They creep inside the sterile room and find her staring at the wall. 
Lando doesn’t hesitate to move further into the room. Always having been more in touch with his emotions then the other two boys. “Hey love, can I come closer?” 
She looks at him. The bandages plastered over the sides of her head and around her face now visible to them. She returns Lando’s gaze with glassy eyes. It’s damn near shocking when she tries to pull things off her body in a desperate attempt to reach for Lando. 
Lando gets to her before she can get everything off, specifically the IV, and catch her arms. Oscar and Max finally pull themselves together and manage to get her to lay back down with some coaxing. 
She’s shaking violently. Her grip on Lando’s arm is sure to leave bruises. “Who - who f-found me?”  
“We did, schat. We got worried when you didn’t respond.” Max drags the two chairs in the room closer and pulls Oscar down into one.  Lando, against all odds, manages to wriggle his way into bed with her. 
“I know who it was. I - well - does anyone else know?” 
“Just Christian and us.” Oscar can feel the fight Max is putting up to not ask her more questions. The way he’s grounding himself with a hand on Oscars knee instead. 
“You don’t have to tell us.” He attempts to reassure. Maybe calm her mind by giving her an option. “Just know we’re here, alright?” 
“I don’t want it to be a big story. It’s already going to be since I can’t be in the car for the next four weeks. Oh fuck - everyone is gonna know-” Lando hushes her; gets her to somehow hold him tighter.
“Christian said it’s up to you, whatever happens.” Max nods at her encouragingly. “We go at your pace.” 
“They did a rape kit. They’ll know who it is. It was all over so it couldn’t have been hard to get DNA - oh fuck” 
Her heart rate picks up. The nurses rush in. They send her back to sleep. 
~~~♡~~~
Max wants to know who it was who touched her. The rage simmering underneath her skin is almost too much to keep contained. 
On the more fortunate side, they were allowed to stay since she wouldn’t let go of Lando. Then when he did have to get up, they rotated. 
The doctors and nurses learned to approach her like she’s a scared animal. The heavy footsteps seem to set her off and there is now a sticky note on the door saying to tiptoe when entering. It’s endearing to see her doctors and nurses trying so hard not to startle her. But seeing as they’ve now had several incidents where she’s panicked, they are taking more caution. 
Oscar and Lando have meandered away in search of food. Max opted to stay put and made the promise to bring him back cheat foods. He’s too stressed to not eat something of comfort. 
Her physio is supposed to come by today with the stuff she left at the track and get an update from the doctors themselves instead of Max’s botched attempts at repeating back. It will also be nice to see her comfortable, as the one blanket that travels with her everywhere will also be dropped off. 
“Max?” He tightens his hold to show he’s listening. “It’s not fair… You, Lando, and Oscar make a mistake on track and nobody does that to you. I - It wasn’t my fault.” 
The thing is, Max is smarter than people give him credit for. The only incident on track was with Lance. An incident that was his own fault. “He’s at fault, not you. None of this is your fault.”
“They are going to say I was asking for it or something.” 
“In those fireproofs? The only ones asking for it are me and Oscar… for obvious reasons.” He chuckles proudly at his little self compliment. 
It also manages to get her to crack something of a half smile. “Are you complimenting your own ass?” 
“And what if I am?” 
She doesn’t eat anything despite it being sat in front of her. Soft foods are the only thing she’ll be eating. Her throat, albeit not as bad as it could've been (thank you F1), is still damaged and needs to rest as much as possible. 
They had to keep her for observation due to where the head wounds had been. It’s been a rough thirty-six hours, but they are managing.
Despite the hectic situation, Max has come to learn that the female lying in the hospital bed is a better person then the rest of them. Oscar was detailing a full proof murder plan while she was telling him not to make it a bigger deal then it is. To which Oscar politely put his ten step plan with four contingencies down and told her that it’s ‘what he had coming to him’. 
Max has not had to stop someone from assassinating a rival before, but Oscar seems like a reasonable guy. “Death is too good for him.” 
“Mm, you’re right, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t die then and can’t see my face.” 
“Or, we make his life a series of inconveniences! I feel like daddy’s money could get him good therapy. It can’t solve every minor problem.” Lando has a gleam in his eyes. 
Him and Oscar start pouring over ideas once more. The girl simply shakes her head and goes back to eyeing her pudding like it’s assaulted her. “I don’t want to leave here, Max.”
“Why not? I’d assume you want to go home? Sleep in a comfortable bed?”
“Out there, they can get to us. Here is safe.” 
He considers how to reassure her. Only, there is nothing he can think of. The truth is that outside of this hospital room, there is no guarantee they won’t run into trouble. 
“I can’t promise that we'll never have something bad happen again. But-” He looks to the McLaren duo brainstorming ways to make the Aston Martin garage regret existing. “We’ll be there for each other. We’re here for you. When you want us and when you need us, yes?” 
“Pinky swear?” She extends her pink to him. 
Max accepts and curls his pinks around hers. “Pinky swear.” 
~~~♡~~~
It’s not fair really, that they had to leave to go do things. Lando would prefer he at least stayed with her so she isn’t alone. Alas, they are preparing for her discharge and he had to run around getting things together for their trip back to Monaco.
He comes back to a partially opened door and smiles at the other two boys being able to get back before him. Then again, as he gets closer he can hear the angry tone. One that Max uses when he’s pissed off about something. 
Lando panics and rushes inside. Only to be met with the sight of the last person he wants around right now. 
Now - he wouldn’t say he’s prone to violence. Lando prefers to keep the peace when it comes to conflict unless he’s trying to piss someone off on purpose to get a reaction. This is not one of those times. 
Lando’s knuckles collide with the Canadian’s jaw faster than he can fully become aware of what he’s doing. Lance stumbles backward and holds his jaw, glaring at Lando like he’s the one in the wrong here. 
“Get out!” 
“We were just talking-” 
“I said. Get. Out.” He’s seething. The thudding in his chest becoming louder with each second Lance remains in this room. 
He’s not prone to violence. 
Really, he’s not. 
Yet the second crack of knuckles into Lance's chin gives him some sick satisfaction. Isn’t there something about equilibrium? Can he pin this on restoring the balance or something? Regardless, he isn’t going to dent the fact that it feels good. 
The nurses come running and start asking questions. Max and Oscar have to drag Lando away kicking and screaming. 
Worse is when they try to tell him that there are pictures out on social media. Christian has been calling Max non-stop. Oscar has been dealing with Zak. Their relationship isn’t a secret and neither is their current location.  
“They're sending us a different car to see if we can’t get out discreetly.” 
“What happened with Lance, Lan? Are you alright?”
Everyone is panting. Their eyes trained on the door. “I punched him. I restored the equal-brey-um… thing.” 
“Equilibrium.” 
“Yeah that!” 
He’s not sure how they get on the plane. He’s still amped up about the whole punching thing and running purely off adrenaline. 
They’ve been sitting in silence, mulling over their options. Creating statements they can put out. It’s hectic and they keep trashing them because nothing fits. 
The female has been apathetic. The last thing she wanted was for this to get out and now it has. Seemingly everything is flashing before her eyes. Her career will be gone soon enough, so what’s even the point? 
“Don’t post anything. We don’t have an obligation to confirm or deny the rumors. If anything, we can say that you were just driving me to the hospital and being good friends or whatever.” She won’t look at them. Still - Lando can hear how upset she is, the waiver in her voice. “I’m going to be kicked out anyway.” 
“Christian said-”
“Damn what Christian said! He knows this isn’t going to get any better and if I say who it was then Daddy’s Money is just going to pay his way through.” She's hyperventilating now. Her body collapses against her seat and Oscar makes an effort to get her to lean against him. “It’s not fair!”
lando Can’t help but share her feelings.
~~~♡~~~
She stays holed up in the Redbull garage the next weekend. The appearance is hard, people want to ask her questions. Her boys had been caught in the middle of the riptide and haven’t come back to shore yet. 
At least she’s here. She’s trying her hardest to look stronger than she is. On the inside things are falling apart. 
The team knows to give her space and not ask about the ordeal. She takes refuge in Max’s room when things are too much and the other drivers keep their distance. 
They know it was one of them. She’d been adamant on not saying who it was, but it’s obvious there are sixteen who it could have been, given her partners insistence that none of them go near her garage for the time being.  
She just wants this whole thing to blow over. She wants to lay in bed with her lovers and not flinch when they go to touch her. 
She knows, however, that until she deals with things that healing can’t happen like it should. Or at least, that’s what her therapist says. The one she is now required to see. 
Things get worse when she’s back in the car. Her media duties are limited so she can focus on driving and ‘listening to her body’ as her physio likes to say. 
She can’t hear her body over the sound of her mind going staticy as Lance closes in on her. The catalyst for everything. She panics and ends up in the wall. Not the worst crash ever, but certainly hurts her pride more than it has already.
The thing is, it keeps happening. Even as she’s able to let her boys back in. As her podium finishes start to come back. Her fireproofs (which they’d gotten her all new ones) start to feel comfortable again and she doesn’t feel the need to be out of them the second the race is done. Still, Lance is using this to his advantage. 
Finally, after he almost killed her on track (again), she’s had enough.
The trial goes better than she thought it would. Despite the money differences, Lance won’t be able to race anymore. It’s not some grand spectacle either, just an announcement like usual. It’s more the closure she needed versus the publicized drama it could have been. 
She wins the next race. 
“If I ever see him again, it will be too soon.” 
“It’s been over a year now, Lan. I’m getting better.” There is a genuine smile on her face. The car awaits to take them back to the hotel. It was here that it happened. She almost considered not racing because of it.
“Lando got a taste of blood and now he’s feinding for it.” Max has a comforting hand around her waist. A grounding presence. 
“I mean, I never threw away my murder plot…” 
“You’re a genius Oscar!”
She shakes her head. It’s not like any of this has been easy. It never is. Still - her boys are here and they’ve been so patient. 
“There’s her smile.” They all beam at her. 
She smiles back.
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lxvebun · 2 days
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challenge accepted!♡
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synopsis: you're surprised when you find out he has not had his first kiss yet, you're even more surprised when he lets you be the one to change that aka your first kiss with Satoru<3
content: Gojo Satoru x gender neutral reader. Fluff!. Written with the highschool arc/satosugu friendship in mind so you'd be in the same grade together, but you can read it however you wish♡ Detailed descriptions of kissing. Around 650 words. Eng is not my first language. Not entirely proofread, lmk if there are any annoying mistakes♡
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He's the strongest around, the Gojo Satoru! He has everything he could want and he doesn't have to prove anything to anyone. He doesn't have to but he does enjoy doing so.
So when you and Suguru teamed up against him, giggling oh so cruelly because here he was spouting out dating advice, saying that Geto will turn into a "grumpy old man" if he continues to reject people's advances, when he hasn't even had his first kiss yet, he knew he had to fix that♡
⁎⁺˳✧༚໒꒱.*
"You don't have much of a say seeing as you haven't kissed, let alone dated anyone yet, Satoru.~" Suguru replies, voice still as gentle as always even when he's dealing with his best friend's nonsense.
You're not entirely sure why your heart skipped a beat at the revelation. Sure it's unexpected given Gojo's flirty nature and good looks, but it's igniting a feeling of something almost hopeful in your heart....you don't like him that, not at all, right? So why is the image of him pulling you in by your waist and dipping down to lock his lips against yours fogging over your mind?
You've gone quiet for a bit as you hoped to make sense of what you're feeling, not unperceived by your friends sitting next to you
"Y/n?" They speak at the same time. You miss the shared glance of concern
You're glad you can blame the afternoon sun for the sudden spark of warmth surging through your body.
"Sorry, yeah, I'm here" you reply a bit clumsily as you make the mistake of looking back at him and the words almost get stuck in your throat. he looks ridiculously handsome with the way his head is slightly tilted, enough to look at you over his glasses, blue eyes shining even brighter in the sunlight, and something as simple as that really shouldn't be as attractive as it is.
Just for a split second you see his eyes soften as he lets his gaze trace of your features before he nudges his glasses back in place and continues-
"You're supposed to back me up, you know?? Tell him!"
"There's nothing wrong with not having had your first kiss yet, Suguru" you say sweetly. Gojo visibly relaxes and that stupid infamous smirk forms on his lips as he nods along with your words. you stifle back a laugh as you continue, "Unless you're Gojo Satoru"
The flail of his arms is entirely dramatic and entirely in character. It's not helping that you can hear the snickering of Suguru beside him too.
He's quiet for a moment as he regains his composure, one of his arms now draped behind you along the bench. He takes his glasses off and hangs them on the collar of his shirt.
"Alright"
.....
"Alright?"
Your body registers it before your brain does, heart fluttering in your chest, a hitch in your breath as he leans in. He's close, but he doesn't close the gap just yet. You can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks and his intoxicatingly good, probably extremely expensive cologne envelops the rest of your senses, makes you a little dizzy as all you see, hear, and feel is him but he allows you enough space to back away if this is not what you desire.
Perhaps your heart already knew what you're mind was just trying to catch up to. You have fallen in love. Fallen in love with Satoru of all people.
You're sure that at least a minute has passed since he leaned in but he doesn't falter and patiently waits until you do finally give him the smallest of nods and then it's over for you, you've fallen too deep now and you cannot and do not want to come back from this, from him.
the kiss is sweet, almost too sweet if you didn't have a sweet tooth that could battle Satoru's. And for a first kiss it's quite heavy, a little deeper and longer than you expected and it continues to linger warmly on your lips when he finally pulls away, face a little flushed, eyes bright, and smirking like he just won the lottery
"Now, listen, Suguru" he begins but you tune it out. Too focused on trying to calm the racing of your heart, too enamoured with the memory of his lips on yours
Gojo doesn't remove his arm from around your shoulder but his other hand has intertwined with yours as he draws heart shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb, silently letting you know this was more than him just trying to prove something, silently letting you know, he'd be yours if you'll have him♡
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Thank you for reading, angels!<3
I haven't written for jjk in such a long time😩 but I started season 2 and I want them to be HAPPY
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