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#this is as much to myself as it is to all of you
sonicboomseason3 · 3 days
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a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:
paramount has come out in public support of israel
keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie
james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile
there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???
kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too
this is a complete and utter joke.
EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]
you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.
i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.
with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.
ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.
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candy69gurl · 3 days
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INSUBORDINATION
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PAIRING Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
SYNOPSIS The reader, a young woman of wealth, is married to Toji and consistently treats him as her servant, much to his dismay. Fed up with her behavior, Toji resolves to teach her a lesson.
WARNING non/con, brat taming, spitting, face fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face slapping, fingering, nipple play, missonary, bondage (hands tied only), cock riding, squirting, doggy style, multiple orgasms, degradation, use of vulgar words (dog, bitch, slut, whore, cum slut), humiliation, raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, face cumming), clit slapping & rubbing, man handling
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Marrying this seemingly charming and powerful Toji Fushiguro, you believed it imparted a greater benefit upon him than it did upon yourself. His overwhelming infatuation for you was not reciprocated, and instead, you treated him more as a pet than a partner. As a young, rich woman with an air of superiority, you demanded his obedience and submission, constantly reminding him of his place. You were unaware of the brewing storm inside him, waiting to unleash its fury upon you. Little did you know, the love and adoration he had for you were a ticking time bomb about to go off. The way he was treated drove him insane, pushing him to the brink of insanity, and he couldn't take it anymore.
"Hmm, so.. Toji I would like to talk to you, my dear", your eyes never leaving your nails.
Toji glares at you, his eyes smouldering with rage and lust stored inside him. Despite his inner turmoil, he forces a smile and responds, "My lady, I am here." His voice drips with false sincerity, reflecting the pain within him. It's clear that every moment spent serving you gnaws at his soul, fueling his desire to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Yet, he can't let you sense his true intentions - not yet.
He waits patiently, his muscles tensing beneath his clothes, as he anticipates your command. His heart pounds wildly against his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and domination. He knows that he's about to snap anytime.
"I need you to stop wasting my money on gambling", your gaze finally shifts from your nails to Toji, who's standing before you with his head bowed.
A chill runs down Toji's spine as he hears your words. Your demand has cut him deeper than any blade could, igniting a firestorm of emotions within him.
How can he possibly stop himself from doing that? It's his sole means of earning money for himself. And it's not like he constantly relies on your finances for that. But the way you phrased your money, it really struck a nerve and left him feeling utterly humiliated. He understood that you were implying he should beg you for money, but that's something he would never do.
He tries to maintain his composure, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth. With a stiff nod, he replies, "As you wish, my lady. I shall cease all gambling activities and dedicate myself entirely to your needs. But I would like you to stop ordering me around"
"Excuse me? who do you think you are?", one of your eyebrows raised, utterly confused by his sudden back-talk.
Toji's eyes flash with defiance, and his voice take on a dangerous edge, "I am your husband, a man scorned and abandoned. I have given you everything I have, my love, my heart, my trust. Yet, I receive nothing in return. I am sick of being treated like a mere toy. My passion for you burns like a thousand suns, and it is time you recognized my worth!" His face contorts with rage and hurt, his entire body trembling with suppressed power. "Do not mistake my patience for weakness, for I am far from it. One day, you will learn the consequences of disregarding those who truly care for you."
Your countenance remain devoid of emotion as he uttered those words. Instead, you advance towards him, drawing nearer... and nearer... until you stand face-to-face. Despite his height advantage, you are aware of the superiority you hold.
In an instant, your hand delivers a sharp slap to his face, causing his head to jerk to the right. "How dare you talk to me like that?"
Your slap lands across Toji's cheek with a loud smack, jolting him back to reality. His eyes widen, shock etching lines onto his face. For a brief moment, he stand frozen, the sting of your hand burning a trail across his pale skin. Then, without warning, his expression twists into one of pure fury. In a single, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and pins you on the ground.
"GET OFF ME YOU SICKO", you scream.
Toji snarls, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. "No, little miss high-and-mighty, I decide when this ends. You've played your games, and now it's time to pay the price," he growls, his grip on your wrist tightening. He leans closer, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers, "You thought I was weak and submissive, but you sorely underestimated me. I am a man consumed by desire and rage, and I will make you pay for your cruelty."
His other hand moves to fondle with your clothed breasts, "Coming to think of it.. I never touched.. Maybe tonight is the time .. I finally discover your secrets."
"Don't even think of it.. Move your filthy hands off me!!" your legs pushing his chest away from your body.
Toji's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Oh, I think I've already discovered your secrets, my dear. You're just as desperate for my touch as I am for yours. You can scream all you want, but no one will come to save you. You're mine, and I will have my way with you."
His grip on your wrist intensifies and he begins to move his hand lower, towards your thigh. "You've pushed me too far, and now it's time for you to learn a lesson you'll never forget. I'll make you beg for my touch, and when I'm done, you'll be mine completely."
"I should have kept a body guard..", your eyes get teary as you start feeling vulnerable. The thing that you hated the most.
Toji's eyes flicker with a hint of victory at your admission. "Yes, perhaps you should have," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But it's too late now. There's no one coming to save you."
His fingers trail along the edge of your clothing, teasingly close to bare skin. "I plan to make it as painful and pleasurable as possible. You'll come to cherish these moments, begging for more, even as you curse my name."
His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Every benefit you receive carries a price; for the service I've rendered you over the years, my dear wife, I require my due compensation. I'm not interested in payments via cheque, cash, or phone apps. I seek recompense through your body."
"I will never.. ever.. submit to you .. Toji Fushiguro..", you land kick on his side, attempting to run away from his grasp, yet he remains unaffected. He does grunt as your kick connected with his side, but he doesn't release you. Instead, he smirks, his gaze heated. "You.. Keep struggling, but you're only making this worse for yourself. Give in to me, let me show you the pleasure you've denied yourself for so long."
Slowly, he slides his hand underneath your clothing, his fingertips brushing against your skin unclasping your bra, taking it off you easily. You squirm beneath him, but his grip remains firm, unwavering.
"D-dont do it ..", you try squirming again.
Toji's lips twitch into a cruel grin. "Ah, but I must. After all, I promised to teach you a lesson, and I always keep my promises." His fingers continues their relentless exploration, caressing your nipple gently before pinching it firmly.
"Feel it, wife. Feel the pleasure I can give you, even as I punish you. Let your body betray your reluctance, let it crave what you claim to despise." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "And remember, this is all ya fault. You made me this way."
You buck beneath him, trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you unyielding. He pushes your top up, yanking it off you, exposing your breasts.
"S-stop ..", your hands escapes his grip swiftly, trying to hide your bare chest from his monstrous gaze.
Toji's eyes roams over your exposed body hungrily, drinking in the sight of your exposedness for the first time. "Such beauty, wasted on someone like you..."
He reaches out, his finger trailing down your sternum, then moving to your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. Your hands pushing his face, gripping his hair, trying to yank him off you.. But everything fails. And you know if you try hitting him, it'll enrage him further. Your hits are nothing in comparison to the hits requried to knock this giant man down.
Toji chuckles darkly, his grip on you unbreakable. "You cannot escape me, my dear. Not tonight." His fingers dance lightly along your collarbone, tracing patterns that sent chills down your spine. "You wanted control, you craved dominance, and now you shall experience both in equal measure."
As his fingers reaches your breast, he gently slapped your hands and, cupped your breasts, squeezing slightly before letting go. His eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches you writhe under his touch. "Soon, you'll beg for more."
Refusing to yield, you remain steadfast in your refusal to submit to him. You attempt to land kicks once again, this time more haphazardly and with greater force.
Toji catches one of your legs easily, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. "Keep struggling, wife. Make it harder on yourself." He responds, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze lingers on your body, taking note of every twitch and shiver.
With a swift movement, he rolls you onto your stomach, restraining your arms behind your back, squeezing your face on the ground. His veins bulged on his hands as he gripped your hair tightly, pressing your cheeks against the cold floor with force.
Toji smirked, enjoying the fight in you. He pressed his body against yours, his erection evident through his clothes. "What happened to the lioness?" he mocked. "Got defeated by a mere dog?"
He reaches for your hefty priced skirt, ripping it down, revealing your bare ass. His hand hovers over it for a moment before bringing it down, delivering a sharp slap. You cry out in surprise and pain, arching your back.
"Fuck you that dress's worth is more than yours", Toji's eyes fall on your reddened teary-face. He gazes for a while before laughing cruelly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
"Is that all you can muster, a reprimand for my actions? I thought you'd beg for mercy by now." His hand falls again, this time harder, the sting of the slap searing through your body.
"You are tough I must say" He speaks, his voice dark and heavy with emotion. His eyes flash with mischief as he prepared for his next move.
"L-let me go now", your tone somehow shifts to a plea.
He looks down at your red, angry cheeks and puffy lips, his gaze shifting to your ass, the imprints of his five fingers are distinctly visible on your skin. "Shall I?"
"YOU WILL LET ME GO BASTARD i WILL KILL YOU," you yell at him, hating the way he was treating you, as if he owns you.
Toji pulls you up by your hair, leaning closer to your face, "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet. Need to shut that big mouth,"
You forcefully expel saliva from your mouth, deliberately directing it towards his face, "Never."
Toji's face flashes with a grin as he wipes off your spit from his face and licks his finger, his grip on your hair tightening. "Nasty bitch!" he snarls. His free hand frees his erection and you gasp on seeing how big he is. Big enough to nearly kill you.
"W-what the fuck do you think you are doing", you swallowed in anticipation.
Without responding, he pulls your mouth towards his erection, rubbing the tip on your swollen lips.
Your hands reach up to squeeze his shaft, intending to hurt him. Toji winces, his eyes flashing with pain and anger. "You really don't want to die, do you?" His voice shaking with fury as he grasps your wrists, locking them on either side of his legs, his precum leaking shaft rubbing against your cheek. "This is your punishment, and you're going to take it like a good girl."
Despite your resistance, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, forcing you to take him off. You could barely take in his entire length as drool cascades down your chin and your neck swells with every push. You struggle but he remains firm, so you use your teeth, nibbling on his dick.
Toji hisses in pain and anger, releasing you. "You fucking cunt! I should've known better." He slaps you, causing you to cry out in agony. "That's for biting me!" He grabs your hair again, pulling your head toward his dick and begins to thrust roughly.
"Hnghh-", tears stream down your cheeks, smudging your flawless makeup.
Toji's eyes squint seeing you cry, his lips curling up trying to hide his laugher. "Crying? That's cute. You're crying while servicing me!" His grasp on your head tightens as he keeps fucking your throat relentlessly. "Didn't think you could handle it huh? Too bad, because this is just beginning!"
Your eyes twitching in anger, you keep making noises of struggles.
Toji's thrusts increasing in speed. "Shut up, you ungrateful whore! This is what you deserve!" He slamms into you harder, ignoring your protests.
Why is he acting like that all of a sudden? You never thought the man you married is going to treat you like this. But yes karma, you have hurt him, you made him like this. HE IS RIGHT, you deserve this.
His grip tightened on your hair, his thrusts growing more violent until you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Finally, he cums, flooding your mouth with his seed. "Swallow it. I want to see your Adam's apple moving."
You involuntary swallow his seed. Toji stares at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixated on the sight of you swallowing his semen. "Good dog," he sneers, wiping his shaft clean.
You wipe your mouth weakly, "I will never forgive you. You are gonna face the consequences."
Toji chuckles coldly, releasing you. "Oh, the night just started.." He picks you up walking towards your bedroom.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT.. WE ARE DONE.. I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIVORCE YOU", you throw punches on his spine, your nails scratcing his clothed back.
Ignoring your threats, Toji places you on bed, tying your hands with his XXL tshirt to the headboard. His eyes glinting with excitement. "We're far from done, darling. Now, spread your legs, or shall I do it for you?"
"You are not allowed to touch me.. TOJI FUSHIGURO!"
Toji grins wickedly," Oh yeah?", with a swift movement he pulls your panties off you. You legs hiding your core from his gaze. His eyes locked on your resistant form. " He reaches down, spreading your legs apart with force. Your protest is soon silenced by a hard slap accross your clit.
"Now Now.. Look at that," he gathers your wetness with his finger and licks it, "Taste of a bitch in heat."
You bite your lower lip from embarassment. Toji's eyes darkens with lust, his fingers running through your damp entrance, teasing your hole. "You're so wet, yet you are protesting? Ah, I love it." He smirks before inserting his finger inside you, feeling you tense. His eyes searching for your reaction.
"You are lying.. It's not possible-", you still keep on protesting.
Toji pulls his finger, "Hmm?" He raises his eyebrow at you, "Am I? Prove me wrong!" He inserts another finger, stretching you wide. You gasp, arching your back. "Mmm, see for yourself", he then pulls his fingers out. He holds his fingers near your face, covered in your essence, "See?", forcing them into your mouth making you taste yourself.
Your eyes widening, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Toji's eyes gleam triumphantly, his fingers finding their way back inside you. "Pretend all you want, but your body knows the truth." His thumb rubbed your clit, expecting a moan from you. "You want to feel my cock inside you, and let us both know the truth."
"D-do what you want.. but I will not moan."
Toji's grin never wavered as he pulled out his finger. "Stubborn till the end, aren't we?"
He adjusts his position above you, his erection poised to enter you. "Very well, but you won't be able to help yourself soon enough." Before you can react, he thrusts into you roughly, invading your core. He groans at the tightness, his pace increasing.
Your hands tugging on the restraint, eyes watering again from the invasion. He leans in, whispering in your ear, "Let me hear it, your pleasure."
"F-fuck fuck.. pull it out already.. Toji", you nearly beg him.
Toji does not pull out instead he leans back, his dick sliding inside you further hitting your womb as tears spill out of your eyes from the stretching.
"Ohh.. What a sight to behold! The mistress is crying.. Is that how you request your controller?", he slows down a little.
"Please.. Toji... pull it out already", you feel your insides getting ripped everytime he pushes himself in you.
Toji laughs darkly, "Call me master Toji"
"Bastard", you reply.
He starts thrusting, roughly and harshly. "You want to die?"
"Pls master toji .. It's tearing me," your voice shaking with pain and confused pleasure.
His thrusts slows down again, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. "That's right. Who owns you?"
"Y-you..", you reply, your self respect crumbled against Toji's feet.
He smiles cruelly, "Mmm... What's that? I wanted to pull out, but your walls are not allowing me to." with that he keeps slamming into you. This time gentlier than before. Your face twisting in anger and tears.
"No, no..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly. "It's alright. Embrace your submissive nature. You'll thank me later." His thrusting intensifies, his pace accelerating. You whimper, unable to control your pleasure. "It feels good hah?"
"N-no it does not," you lie. Toji's eyes glint at your lie. 'We will see about that" as he speeds up his thrusts, pulling your nipple causing you to cry even louder.
Suddenly moan escapes from your mouth, biting your lips you hide your shift your head right avoiding eye contact with him.
"There it is!" he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Didn't you just say, you won't moannn?" his mocking evident. "That's it, let go! Enjoy it!" He rams into you, owning you fully.
Your eyes locking on his again. "You look so beautiful, when you are this vulnerable and submissive." His words, punctuated by his thrusts, your moans filling the air. "So obedient..."
Your walls tighten, your climax reaching soon. Toji's thrusts slow down as he realizes your nearness. "Not yet..." He pulls his dick out, causing you to cry out.
"I decide when you cum. Remember that." He reaches down, playing with your clit. "Beg for it."
You look at him, your mind still not wanting to give in.
"Beg for it, or I will keep doing this the whole night" He repeats, his voice firm.
He strokes his cock, your eyes widened, realizing the threat. "Please Toji, let me cum.." Your voice trembled, your body tensing.
"Please what?", he smirks biting his lips.
"P-Please master..", you pout after saying the words.
Toji smirks, placing the tip back to your entrance. "Complete the sentence," he rubs your wet, puffy clit with his tip.
"P-Please master toji let me cum", your respect for yourself almost vanished as your eyes begged for him.
"Louder" He pushes his tip inside you, painfully slow.
"PLEASE MASTER TOJI LET ME CUM.. PLEASE .. I BEG OF YOU"
Toji lets out a satisfied growl, thrusting deep. "That's more like it, my good slave." He pounds you mercilessly, your pleas for release filling the air. "Cum. For me."
Your body tenses, toes curl as you orgasm hard, walls spasming rapidly against his cock. Toji watches your orgasm unfurl, his dick pulsating inside you. "Mmm, nice." He thrusts faster, his climax approaching. "Fuck, yes. So tight.. I never imagined you felt this good." He grunts, his breath hitched, his release imminent. "Gonna fill you up. Bet you won't remain selfish anymore once you have your own baby."
Only moans come out of you as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy. Toji finishes his thrusts, spilling himself inside you, pulling out just to see his seed drooling out of your clamping walls. "Shit.. Look at that, so dirty", he pushes his dick inside you again, watching your body shuddering.
You mutter a low appologise as your breathing starts becoming stable once again. "Oh so now ya guilty?" Toji laughs, his dick twitching inside you still, he's getting hard once again. He pulls his dick out and drags you onto his lap.
He caresses your cheek, "Do you think I can ever forgive you baby? with all these years of disrespect that you flung at me?" his other hand pats your ass. "I dont want to hear your apologies. I will divorce you just like that."
You feel as though everything is falling apart around you. It's the last thing you expected to hear from him. You know you love him, but you chose to ignore your feelings up until this point. "Pls master.. d-dont divorce me .. I love you", you lean towards him, kissing his cheek.
Toji's eyes flickered for a moment, as you kiss his cheek. "Wow.. Just an orgasm out of you, put you in your place? Perhaps.. There's only one way to change my mind", he licks his tongue wanting to push your buttons. You look at him expectantly.
Toji's eyes sparked with devious delight "Show me how much you love me, my slave".
Sighing, you take his erect cock and insert it inside of you. You begin to flex and extend your hips along his girth.
Toji watches as you ride him, his eyes never leaving you, his eyes twinkling. "Mmm, nothing sexier than a woman in need," He growls, grabbing your hips and pushing you into his hips. "Ride it harder!" He groans, moving along with your rhythm. You nod and increase your pace, bouncing harder, his veins popping on his forehead.
"Impressive, but more!" His hands move to your neck, pulling you closer. "Yes.. Open your mouth whore" He grips your throat gently, tightening his hold.
You open your mouth, and Toji spits in it, "Swallow it". Without any delay you swallow it.
Toji laughs, "How the tables turn, huh?"
You lean to kiss him, but he grabs your neck not allowing you to get closer to him. "I don't want to kiss your nasty mouth bitch"
"P-please master toji.. kiss me", you beg him, hands reaching to caress his hand on your neck.
"Hmm?" he whispers, "Why would I do that?" He tightens his grip, making it harder for you to breathe. You gasp, your eyes locking with his.
"I am sorry," you cry and pout, hips slamming against his pubis while riding him.
"Apologizing?" He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe easier. "Now that's better." He watches you, how you are engulfing his cock with each movement.
"Still want my kiss?" He taunts, as he release his grip on your neck.
"Yes.. please.. Kiss me"
Toji captures your lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groans, the taste of your submission sweet. "Mmm, such a good slave." He pulls away, "Appology accepted". His mouth leans in to latch onto one of your breasts, tongue circling your nipples and his cheeks hollowing.
Unable to control yourself you squirt all over him. He grunts at your sudden tightness. "What the fuck- so tight ah.." He removes his dick from you, putting you on your knees and hands. "Pissing like a dog? Want me to piss on you too?"
"S-sorry master, I was unable to control myself", your eyes rolled from the experience, collapsing on the bed.
Toji spanks your ass, bringing you to your knees. He lines up his dick to your entrance, holding you steady. "Ya looking like a used slut." His dick slides in your entrance, stretching you again. You whine and whimper, thighs shaking from the ecounters before.
"So sensitive..", Toji scoffs.
"Please .. I am near .. fuck me harder", your voice pleading, eyes rolled, drools driping down your chin.
Toji's thrusts speed up, taking you from behind. "Such an Insatiable cum slut " He groans, his voice hoarse. "Tell me how much you want my cum inside you."
"Fill me up pls.... I am master Toji's cumdump"
Toji roars, slamming into you. "Mmm, yes. My cum dump bitch." He releases inside you, feeling you cum and contract around his dick. He pulls out, watching his seed dripping out of you. His eyes lingered over your pussy, "Maybe you deserve a reward after all."
Your whole body convulses. Toji pulls himself out, "Do you want the reward?"
"Please.. reward me master .. I am your good slave," you falter.
Toji smiles, "Very well, my pet. You're a good slave then" He licks your thighs "Mmm, I love you. But if you dare to disappoint me again..." His teeth nibbling on your clit, making you moan loudly. "You know where you stand." He coos and blows on your wetness, licking you clean. Your body trembles, his tongue exploring your folds.
Toji moans, licking your and his cum.. He suckles your clit, his tongue dancing around. A huge cum drop falls on his tongue which he thrusts inside you again.
"Such a good slave, you'll give me a healthy pup" He hums, kissing your inner thighs. Your breath hitches, your orgasm nearing.
Unable to make out anything, you keep taking the pleasure he gives you.
Toji chuckles, his pace unrelenting. "Make me feel needed, slut" He tongue flicks your clit, you shaking. "Cum for me girl" He pinches your clit, your juice flowing freely. "Ahh, so fucking delicious..."
"Gonna cum .. Love you Toji .. a-ah", you blabber. "Yes, my whore. Go ahead" He growls, licking your juice dripping on his lips. Your thighs wrap around him, cumming again. He licks your cum from his tongue, your legs trembling.
"Good girl". He kisses your neck then pulling you closer to his dick.
"Clean your mess from it" He whispers.
Toji breathes heavily, your mouth enveloping his half-hardened dick. It gets hard again, "Mmm, yes, clean it nicely" He cups your head, his shaft coats in your saliva. "Like that, slut" His hand affectionately messes your hair, your moaning muffled. "So good... God.. I should have done this a lot earlier." He watched you swallow his dickhead, your saliva running down your chin. He laughs, his breaths hitched.
You suck on his balls while he strokes his length, "You know how to make a man happy" he whispers. He pulls you by your hair rubbing his dick on your cheeks.
He leans back, hips jerking. "Mmm, shoot!", his cum splattering across your face, your tongue sticking out, trying to catch some cum drops. He smiles, wiping your face.
"Mmm, so obedient, my little cum dump" He whispers, kissing your lips. "You did great today and if you dare to mistreat me again.."
"I will put you in your place.. Like how I did today."
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DIVIDERS FROM @/cafekitsune
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ghoulphile · 21 hours
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janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!
feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist
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Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.
One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.
Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.
It’d be easier if they were.
Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.
Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.
Then came the separation.
Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.
And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.
See, war’s something he understands.
But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?
How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?
When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?
He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.
Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.
The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.
Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.
Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.
But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.
See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.
Hell, millions used to scream his name.
Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”
While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.
It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.
Something’s gotta give.
After all, he’s only one man.
But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.
A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.
At first, he kept his distance.
Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.
Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.
Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.
Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.
Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.
So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?
Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?
Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?
What you don’t know can’t hurt you.
After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.
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“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”
Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.
“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”
A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”
Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"
“Mnhfmmmm.”
“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”
Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”
Shit.
“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”
Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.
Together they settle with a bounce of springs.
In the open space, you slide in.
The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.
“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”
“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”
“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”
Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.
You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.
“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”
Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.
“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”
“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”
Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.
“... Then pancakes it is.”
As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”
“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”
“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”
“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”
She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears. 
Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.
“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.
“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”
The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.
After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.
“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”
The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.
A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.
Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.
“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”
Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.
The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.
Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.
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When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.
You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.
Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.
Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.
After all, he’s not yours to touch.
Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”
Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”
Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood. 
“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”
He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.
God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.
Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.
“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”
Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.
“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”
“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.
Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.
“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.
Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.
The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.
“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”
“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”
Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”
“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.
Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.
Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.
Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.
But here — with him — you shouldn’t.
Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.
When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”
“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”
Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.
“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”
The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.
He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”
You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.
Greedy.
Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.
However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog. 
Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”
Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”
“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“No, that’s not what I --”
He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”
Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”
“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.
Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”
“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”
Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.
Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?
Hell, you even cook and clean!
Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.
Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.
How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.
If he wasn’t so captivating…
“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”
“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”
Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.
When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.
Waiting to see what you'll do.
Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.
Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.
Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.
He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.
“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”
With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”
The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.
“Woah! I--”
“Tell me something.”
Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.
“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”
The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”
You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”
“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”
Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.
The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.
“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”
He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.
Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”
Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.
“C’mon, be honest.”
With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.
Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.
“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”
His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”
“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”
“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”
“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”
“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”
There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”
In what world would you refuse?
The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.
He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.
Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.
“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”
Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.
Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.
You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.
He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.
"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."
Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”
"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."
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part 2 dropping soon
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taeyongdoyoung · 2 days
Text
good for you
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summary: your boyfriend is literally perfect and treats you like a princess but you want him to completely lose control 😇 pairing: mingyu x reader genre: smut, tooth-rotting fluff warnings: established relationship, home intruder roleplay, consensual somnophilia, safeword exists but isn't used, rough sex, no lube, no protection, neck biting, size kink (no one is surprised), titty slapping, sir kink, spanking, praise+degradation, slight dumbification, subspace, pet names, shy dom gyu, crying, mentions of pee (non-sexual context), aftercare!!! word count: 1.7k
You and Mingyu have not been together for long but from what you know so far he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever dated. He treats you like a princess, brings you flowers or chocolates with or without occasion, drives you around everywhere, gets stuff from the top shelf for you and is basically the kindest soul to ever step on this Earth. You are, of course, beyond grateful for that, and do your best to show him how much you appreciate him every chance you get.
However, a little demon inside your brain kind of wants him to not treat you as if you are made of glass all the time. While the sex is great and Mingyu makes sure that you reach an orgasm, you can’t help but fantasize about him going rough on you. Even when his friends tease (bully) him, he almost never uses his height and strength to his advantage, instead accepting everything with a good-natured smile.
But you would be lying if you said that the idea of him just snapping doesn’t excite you. Nevertheless, you are not sure how to bring this up to him. You don’t want to sound ungrateful or for him to feel insecure about his abilities because he’s perfect the way he is. It’s your filthy brain that needs fixing. Still, you decide that honesty is the key to a healthy relationship and you gather all your courage to approach him about this.
“Hey, Mingyu, can we talk about something?” you ask one evening after you two have finished having dinner.
His eyes are immediately filled with worry. Judging by the tone of your voice, this is something serious. So far, your relationship has been lighthearted and devoid of any problems. Mingyu thinks that it’s going great but apparently he’s been fooling himself.
“What’s wrong?” he wants to know. “You’re not breaking up with me, right?”
“What?! Of course not! Do you want to break up with me?” you panic.
“No, no, please,” Mingyu shakes his head fervently.
“Good, good,” you exhale in relief.
“So, what did you wanna talk about?”
“Um, it’s kinda embarrassing but I don’t want to keep any secrets from you.”
“Secrets?” Mingyu blinks in curiosity.
“Yeah…You know how you’re always super gentle with me, both outside and inside the bedroom?”
“Uh, sure? What about it?”
“Can you consider…not doing that all the time?”
“In what sense?” Mingyu raises his eyebrows in confusion.
“In the sense that…can you fuck me harder without holding yourself back? You’re not gonna break me, I promise.”
“Oh…” he finally realizes what you’re getting at. Because he doesn’t say anything rightaway, you hurry to explain.
“Not that I don’t like how sweet and patient you are with me! It’s more than amazing, I just thought that…maybe it’d be fun to try something new. If it’s not your thing, forget I mentioned it, I’m so-“
“It’s not that it doesn’t sound appealing. But I’m afraid that if I’m not holding myself back, I’ll end up hurting you,” Mingyu confesses, surprising you.
You reach your hand out across the table to hold his comfortingly.
“You won’t. I know how caring you are, Mingyu. Which is why I would trust you with something like this. Okay?”
“Okay,” he nods. “Did you have a particular scenario in mind or do you want me to surprise you?”
“Surprise me.”
Mingyu smirks sinisterly. Oh God. What kind of demon have you unleashed?
🎀🎀🎀
A few days later, you receive a text from Mingyu while you’re walking home.
Mingyu: Busy tonight?
You: All yours
Mingyu: Unlock your door at exactly 10pm and wait for me in your bed. If I’m not there by 10:30, lock it again, alright?
You: Yes, sir 🛐
Mingyu: That’s my good girl.
Fucking hell. Your heart flutters upon reading these words. He’s called you that before but in this context, it thrills you even more than usual.
Mingyu: Safeword is butterfly. Use it if something is too much, if you’re in pain or for any other reason that brings you discomfort, okay?
You: I’m gonna need a safeword?!?!
Mingyu: I hope it doesn’t come to that but just in case. See you in a couple of hours, baby.
You’re too excited for tonight. You take a long shower. You wear your prettiest lingerie and make your room as cozy as possible. Not that it matters. You spray perfume over your neck and wrists. You put on some lipbalm and mascara. You want to look good for him. But the truth is, you had an exhausting week and already feel sleepy. You unlock the door at 10pm, climb into your bed and…
Somehow you fall asleep. You feel disoriented as your consciousness is slowly returning to you. You feel too hot, too weak and too full. Fuck. What’s going on? You don’t dare to open your eyes for fear of ruining the sweeter than sleep reality.
“Dumb baby couldn’t wait for me and fell asleep all by herself?” Mingyu’s deep voice coos in your ear.
In your half-awake state you feel your boyfriend’s cock thrusting deep inside of you, taking you rougher than ever before. Well, you asked for it.
“So cute and helpless, leaving the door unlocked for anyone to enter and use you like a whore,” Mingyu murmurs.
He rubs your clit vigorously while still fucking into you, making you wetter than ever before.
“Nnghh,” you whimper drowsily.
“Shhh, baby, go back to sleep,” Mingyu whispers. “I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything.”
He squeezes your boobs, leaning down to bite your neck like a hungry wolf. And here, you thought your boyfriend was just a cute puppy.
“S-so big,” you cry out pitifully.
“You can take it, slut,” Mingyu says confidently.
You don’t offer a verbal response but your body speaks for itself. Mingyu is almost splitting you in two but your pussy is swallowing him up greedily.
“H-harder, p-please,” your mouth seems to have a mind of its own because it speaks against any common sense.
Mingyu slaps your tits, a little hesitant at first.
It stings but it’s such a sweet hurt you’re already addicted to it.
“Like this?” he asks, making sure it’s okay.
“M-more,” you beg, forgetting all inhibitions. “Use me.”
He does it a couple of more times, while still fucking you roughly. His dick is so enormous that you’re certain you’ll be sore tomorrow but it will be more than worth it. You lose count of how many times you’ve come around his cock. Sliding out and flipping you on your belly, he takes you from behind, too, spanking your ass and gripping your hair.
“Such a good girl, just for me, right? No one else gets to see you like this, yeah?” Mingyu’s words come out rushed, almost in trance.
“All yours, sir,” you promise.
Mingyu seems satisfied with your answer because he spills his seed inside of you seconds after. You follow his lead and eventually, your knees give out, your mind goes blank and you collapse on the bed.
“Baby?” Mingyu checks up on you worriedly.
You are not capable of responding, brain barely functioning anymore. He moves you gently to see your face. Your eyes are open but unblinking, which scares the shit out of him.
“Come back to me, my sweetheart, please,” Mingyu cries out, hugging you tightly.
A couple of moments later, you still don’t remember your own name but something more important to you leaves your lips:
“Mingyu?” you whisper cautiously.
“Oh, angel,” Mingyu sighs. “I’m right here.”
Then, you suddenly burst into tears. Overwhelmed by how good he made you feel and how much he cares about you, your fully emotions take over.
“What’s wrong, baby? Did I hurt you?” Mingyu positions you so that you are sitting on his knee and rocks you gently back and forth.
“N-no,” you shake your head. “I’m s-so happy.”
“You poor thing,” Mingyu chuckles softly. “Can’t believe you worked so hard to doll yourself up and make the room smell nice. You knew I was gonna ruin your lingerie anyway, didn’t you?”
“I just wanted to look good for you,” you admit with a pout.
“You always do. My best girl,” Mingyu kisses you sweetly and wraps you in his warm embrace, lulling you back to sleep.
🎀🎀🎀
The next morning, you wake up to the feeling of wanting to pee so badly. You manage to climb out of bed but barely make one step and trip on the ground. Uh oh. You got fucked so good you literally can’t walk.
Awakened by the loud thud, Mingyu is by your side in no time.
“What happened?”
“You happened,” you reply truthfully, but you don’t blame him because you brought this upon yourself.
“Oh…” Mingyu understands what you mean. “Did you want to use the toilet?”
“Uh, yeah. Gosh, this is so mortifying.”
You cover your face with your hands.
“I was literally deep inside of you a few hours ago, get over yourself,” Mingyu laughs and lifts you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bathroom.
“Are you gonna stare at me?!” you ask in embarrassment.
“Might as well,” he laughs but gives you some privacy, even though there is no need to be shy after all the things you’ve done together.
After that, he insists on doing everything for you. You tell him you are perfectly capable of brushing your own teeth but nope, Mingyu wants to do that, as well. And honestly? It feels too good to reject.
He even makes breakfast and brings it to bed so you can share it together. As you take the first bite and drink the first sip of coffee for the morning, the feelings come crashing once again. And you start crying even harder than last night.
“Oh, baby, what is it?” Mingyu wants to know, as he brushes your hair behind your ear and wipes your tears.
“N-nothing, you’re just so amazing and kind I feel extremely touched.”
“You do realize this is literally the bare minimum, right?” Mingyu seems shocked. He just made pancakes. It’s not some heroic act, in his humble opinion.
“It’s so rare to find a lovely guy like you, though,” you admit.
“Well, my good girl deserves only the best,” he smiles shyly and kisses your cheek.
You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning wider than ever before.
“Keep talking like that and I’ll want to be good for you forever.”
“I’m counting on it.”
The End
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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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sincerelyneo · 3 days
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could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐
mad at you | l.mk
“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”
💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we
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❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.
❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader
❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex
❯ words: 4.3k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.
an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.
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The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 
But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 
You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.
So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 
He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 
He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 
The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.
“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”
You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 
“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”
You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”
"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."
Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 
“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”
“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”
“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”
“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”
You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.
“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 
“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”
“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 
Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 
“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”
You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 
“Oh, so you want to break up?”
He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”
The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 
Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.
Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.
“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”
“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 
Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 
He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.
After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 
It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 
Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.
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Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 
As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 
You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.
The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.
However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.
“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  
You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”
Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.
His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 
"I thought you left..."
Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.
“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 
You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 
He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”
His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 
"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."
Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."
"No—"
He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."
Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.
"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."
"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"
Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"
His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.
"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."
You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”
You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.
Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.
His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.
Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.
You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.
He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.
“‘s okay,” you whimper. 
Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.
He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 
He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 
And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”
You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 
“Mark…” 
“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 
You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.
And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.
As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 
You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 
He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 
Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 
The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.
You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 
You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 
Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.
Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.
And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 
You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 
So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...
“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”
You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.
“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”
And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 
And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 
The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 
You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 
You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.
"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.
"I’m sorry," you say softly.
You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."
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oral fixation - m.s.
summary: matts girlfriend loves to have things in her mouth. when she gets home after a day of minor inconveniences, she seeks comfort from her boyfriend, in a rather, unconventional way.
warnings: oral (male receiving), praising, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), soft!dom matt, sub!fem, talk of anxiety,
a/n: couple of things; one, the girl doesn't have a name so you can imagine whomever you'd like, two, i've started planning my Matt series...anyways, hope you guys like it! :)))
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"A touch / From your real love / Is like heaven takin' the place of somethin' evil"
⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜
For my entire life, I’ve loved having things in my mouth. 
When I was younger, it was impossible for my parents to get my thumb or my pacifier out of my mouth. The comfort that came from having the object resting in my mouth was too intense for me to leave behind. Behaviors like that followed me into childhood with things like gum or lollipops. In high school, I chewed copious amounts of gum, always had a pen or pencil in my mouth and played with my lips all the time. 
Naturally, when I managed to find myself a boyfriend, he became aware of my oral fixation in many ways. He would always notice how often I had things in my mouth or if I was biting my lips, he would offer me something else so I didn’t tear up the delicate skin. It got to a point where, if he and I were laying down together and one of his hands was unoccupied, I would simply reach down and grab his hand, bringing it to my mouth and wrapping my lips around one of his fingers and playing with it in my mouth. Of course Matt enjoyed this himself, but there were other ...situations, where this oral fixation benefitted him much more than putting a finger in my mouth. 
Matt also understood why I do what I do. Him and I both struggle with anxiety, and we both have for years. In high school, I was medicated for it and had a hard time getting through the day. However, I hated the way that the meds made me feel and I swore to my parents that I wasn’t going to take them anymore and that I’d find another way to cope. Matt copes with alone time and silence but I get more overstimulated than he does and when I do, all I want is to have something in my mouth and someone to touch. 
Which is why on days like these, anxiety ridden and insane days, I need my boyfriend and one of his extremities to rest between my lips. 
After several cars cutting me off on the road and almost hitting me on the way to the gym this morning, I was already slightly shaken up and worried for my safety. When I got to the gym, there was a man somewhat following me around, conveniently using all of the machines next to me. After that, I went to the grocery store in hopes that they had some grapes and snacks for me to feel better, they were out of seedless grapes which sent me into a frenzy about the way that the seeds feel in my mouth, and the self-checkout lanes were under renovation and I had to talk to the cashier to check out. 
I took shallow and quick breaths as I walked swiftly out to my car. I tossed the bag into the back seat and swung open the driver door. The second that I was enclosed in my car, in my space, I was able to calm myself down. Once I had myself under control, I started the car and drove home. When I arrived, I grabbed my things from the car and headed inside. I used my house key to unlock the front door, using my foot to close it behind me. I tossed my keys in the dish and heard Matt typing on the couch. 
“Hi baby,” He said without looking up. I didn’t respond because I just wanted to put the groceries I picked up away and sit with him. “Alright,” He said and continued typing away. 
I put the cold stuff in the refrigerator and the dry stuff in the pantry and cabinets before heading to his room to slide out my dirty and uncomfortable gym clothes and into one of his shirts. Once I was comfortable and the smell of his cologne filled my nostrils, I was finally ready to lay down next to him on the couch. 
“Sorry,” I murmured quietly, gently taking a seat next to him and pulling a blanket over my legs, curling into his side and latching onto one of his arms, “I just wanted to put those away so that I could sit with you.” 
I sat there looking for something of his to grab onto but his hands were occupied and I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I put anything else, if you know what I mean, in my mouth at the moment. I sighed quietly to myself and began to bite on my lips. 
“You don’t have to apologize,” He said, leaning over to kiss the top of my head. 
I continued my assault on my lips and I felt the skin tear and the metallic taste of my own blood rested on my tongue. When it started to hurt too bad to bite my lips, one of my hands found my mouth and I started to bite and suck on that instead, the other arm wrapping impossibly tighter around his. His elbow nudged my side and he looked over at me. 
“You doin’ okay?” He asked without looking away from his computer where he was replying to emails and taking notes in a Google Doc. I only hummed, unwilling to take my fingers out of my mouth. My lack of a real response, which I know he hated, made him finally look up at me. My eyes blinked guiltily at him when his brows went from furrowed to concerned, “Sweetheart,” He sighed and reached up to pull my hand away from my mouth. I flexed all of my muscles to keep it in my mouth but he tilted his head at me and pulled harder, his strength easily overpowering mine. 
“I’m sorry,” I sighed, relaxing my muscles and looking down my hands with guilt and embarrassment written all over my face. 
“Hey,” He said softly, reaching out to grab my jaw and gently pull my head up to look at him, “You don’t have to say sorry. There’s nothing to apologize for.” He shook his head and looked into my eyes for an explanation, “D’you have a bad day?” He asked and closed his computer screen ¾ of the way down. 
“Kind of,” I said, questioning in my tone, “I don’t even know. It’s just been, like, too much.” I tried to spit it out but I struggled to pin-point how, exactly, I felt. It was just too much.
“That’s okay, baby,” He cooed, “You want my hand?” My eyes widened in excitement and I nodded before correcting myself with a ‘Yes, please’. 
He brought his left forearm up to my mouth and I played with his long fingers trying to pick which one I wanted. I decided on the pointer first, but planned to use every finger but the pinky. He used his other hand to scroll through emails and business inquiries, also scrolling through pinterest to find inspiration for future videos. 
I, on the other hand, swirled my tongue mindlessly around his fingers, taking them all the way into my mouth and then back out, my saliva coating his fingers down the knuckle. Every so often, he would shift his hips slightly or clear his throat and scratch his neck. I knew how this was affecting him, but he also respected my needs more than his and wouldn’t want to make me uncomfortable. After close to twenty minutes had passed of my sucking on his fingers, he looked at the time on his computer and closed it all the way. He leaned back against the couch, his hand still in my mouth and he turned his head as it laid against the top of the couch and he watched me mindlessly play with his fingers. When I fully pulled off his middle finger alone, I pushed his ring finger to meet it and took them both fully into my mouth. He groaned and I snapped my eyes to meet him and worked my mouth around his fingers. 
“God, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that when you’ve got my fingers down your throat, honey,” He instructed gently, understanding of my rather fragile nature. I pulled off his fingers, letting my tongue teasingly drag across the length of them. 
“Sorry,” I swallowed to clear my throat and scooted closer to him. He reached across himself and wrapped his dry hand around my thigh and under my knee to pull me onto his lap. I squealed at the sudden movement but settled and nuzzled into his lap. 
“How many times are you gonna apologize, hm?” He questioned with a smile, tucking my hair behind my ears. 
“You know how I am, Matt,” I laughed and grabbed his wrists and put them on top of my thighs, encouraging him to tickle them. 
“Yeah, I do,” He smiled, “But that means that I know you’re gonna keep saying sorry until you feel better.” He accused me and I smiled like I’d been caught stealing, “What else do you need, baby?”
I blushed and looked down at my hands, “I don’t wanna-,”
“Oh, you’re gonna.” He said sternly. 
“I want you.”
“You have me.” He said and nudged my chin with his knuckle, “What do you need?”
“Need your cock,” I said quietly. 
“What was that?” He turned his ear toward me. 
“I need your cock, Matthew.” I said louder. 
“There she is.” He said and gently moved my thighs to allow me to sink to my knees in front of him. “See? Wasn’t that hard, no?” 
When I was comfortable at his feet, I worked to remove his belt and unbuckle his pants. He did the work of actually pushing them down. His hard cock sprung out of his pants and he hissed as the cool air penetrated the sensitive and tacky skin. His tip was lathered in a small amount of pre-cum and he pulsed and twitched slightly. I pouted at the sight for two reasons; one being that it made me want him in my mouth even more, and two, I felt bad for the state I’d put him in. 
“Matty,” I whined, tracing circles with the fingernails on his knees, “I didn’t know it was this bad. I’m sorry.” 
“If you say sorry one more time, all you’re getting is my fingers,” He tutted. My eyes widened in fear. 
“Okay, I’ll stop.” I promised and he smiled down at me. 
“Good girl.” 
I got to quick work pumping his cock in my hand to get him ready. His cock looked so big compared to my smaller hand. It didn’t even fit around the entire thing. He groaned and hissed at the stimulation, his breathing getting heavier and slightly more labored. Soon, I leaned down and gently licked the tip before wrapping my lips around the tip. Pleasure and comfort washed over me and I continued to sink my head down onto his dick. His hands gathered my hair in a make-shift ponytail on my head and he held my hair out of my face. He didn’t push my head down, he just simply aided me in my quest for comfort, which I was most definitely finding. 
“There you go baby,” He praised, “So fuckin’ good,” He whispered, more to himself than anyone else. 
I took his cock down my throat slowly, suppressing the slight gag reflex I still have, though it’s not too bad. I whined around his dick with comfort and need. 
“What baby?” He asked breathlessly, pulling me off him, “Why’re you whinin’? You got what you wanted, no?” 
“No!,” I protested, pushing his hands away, “I’m fine! I just love having you, s’all.” I explained with a smile before going back down on him. As I continued to work his cock, my body visibly relaxed and the sighs of content that left my mouth. Matt simply closed his eyes above me, opening them periodically to watch me take him down my throat. 
Matt started to get close, his hips becoming restless under me and his hands that were in my hair started to guide me down his cock faster. He moaned and whimpered as he grew closer and closer to the edge. 
“Oh fuck-,” He whimpered, “God, so good, baby. So close.”
His stutters and whimpers encouraged me to work with him faster, yet take my time on all of his sensitive bits. I relied on the relief that accompanied the weight of his cock on my tongue. I worked him until hips stuttered and bucked off the couch and he moaned my name and praises into the air.  
“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.” He whispered, bucking his hips into my throat making me choke slightly but I didn’t care, “M Sorry. Fuck,” He whispered and then e shot his load down my throat. I felt the warm liquid hit the back of my throat and I swallowed it down. “Show me,” He demanded, once he caught his breath and he pulled me off him all the way. I stuck my tongue out to show him that I swallowed it and he smiled at me in response, lightly tapping my cheek with the hand that held my jaw. 
“Thank you,” I sighed, my throat somewhat sore. 
“No, thank you, my beautiful girl.” He leaned down and kissed me gently, rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs. When I pulled away, I bit the inside of my lip and looked into his eyes, silently yearning for more. His brows pinched together and his mouth opened slightly, “What, baby? Not enough?” I looked at him with a guilty smile and shook my head. 
“I just want more,” I said quietly. He opened his mouth to respond but as soon as he did, his laptop and phone dinged several times, he looked at his phone and saw what it was. 
“Look, sweetheart, I’ve got more work shit to do,” I groaned and sat back on my heels below him but he pressed a finger to my lips, “But, if you’d let me finish you impatient little baby,” he teased, “if you’re good and hold me without moving your tongue at all, you can stay where you are.” 
“Yes please. I promise I’ll be good,” I nodded my head and sat back up right. He nodded at me and grabbed everything he needed to continue working and I took him back into my mouth. I zoned out with him in my mouth but it was still exciting to be getting what I’d been craving all day and my tongue jerked against a few times. 
“Ah, ah,” He asked, “Settle, sweetheart. You promised me.” He directed and when I calmed down around his cock, his hand patted my head softly and he went back to typing away. 
//
a/n: i'd been working on this for about a week or so. hope you guys liked it!!
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sirfrogsworth · 2 days
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I tried to find more information about Albert here. There is an article in The Mirror, but some of the reporting seems dubious. Which I believe is standard operating procedure for that particular news outlet.
But according to the article, "Fat Albert" lives in the very specific area of "Alaska, USA" and is believed to be the fattest polar bear in the world. And they claim he got fat because the townspeople of "Alaska, USA" are following an ancient tradition that dates back "thousands of years."
"The locals throw out large amounts of whale blubber to the bears as a sign of 'respect'. They would cut a large portion of the whale and blubber, and drag it four miles out of town for the bears to find. This stops the bears from travelling into town to harvest and disrupting the process. In other words, it's a way to stop a group of hungry bears coming towards you in a hurry."
From supplemental research there is precedent for folks in Russia and Alaska to leave whale carcasses for polar bears, but I could not find any corroborating evidence about Albert specifically.
So, I rate this myth...
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In any case, when I saw this picture of Albert, it seemed like a good opportunity to practice my Photoshop skills. He has clearly been rolling around in some mud and his beautiful white coat has been obscured.
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It is very easy to change the color of something to red, blue, or green and every color in between. Just hit that hue/saturation and check colorize and you've got Pride Albert in a jiffy.
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However, it is much more challenging to change things to white or black. This is the bane of graphic designers who have to take the same picture of a t-shirt and digitally alter it to be every available color including black and white.
So I challenged myself to give Fat Albert a bath.
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And then I challenged myself again to make him a distant relative.
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I wish I could tell you the exact process for how to do this, but this is one of those things you have to trial and error your way through and I honestly don't remember everything I did.
One thing I can tell you is that I definitely, absolutely, positively named all my layers properly—as that is best practice and I am a good Photoshop boy.
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bountydroid · 2 days
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Darlin' pt 7
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pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (SMUT)
Description: After a close call Cooper gives in to his feelings for Reader.
Notes: This chapter is half smut. For those who don’t want that I don’t think you’d miss anything of importance in the story if you skip it.
TW: p in v, unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, pretty vanilla (sorry pervs lol love you I'm just not good at smut).
His scarred lips were rough against mine, one of his hands on my hip the other tangled in my hair. This was a moment I dreamed about my entire life. Someone who cares about me was never something I thought I’d have. While having a couple of fleeting flings here and there with my brother's friends, I never had a true romance. This feeling? It was straight out of one of my novels. When he finally pulled away, I couldn't help but let out a breathy sound of dissatisfaction. He gave me a teasing smile before taking the vials from my hand and shoving them into his bag.
"Let's go find you some Radaway, Darlin'. We’ll have ya feelin' better in no time." He said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the building.
"Thank god Lucy left the door open." I thought to myself as we made our way inside. 
The place was huge and felt like a relic of the past. The rundown storefronts and flickering lights left much to be desired. I pushed my body against Cooper's back as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Noticing my discomfort, he gave my hand a small reassuring squeeze. He was still in bad shape, clear as day, as he stumbled through the building.
After some exploration, we came across a room full of bodies. "Didn't know Lucy was capable of this." I gasped.
"I imagine these fellas did most of it." He said, kicking the boot of one of the men on the ground. He was holding a gun, but it didn't seem to have done him much good. While Cooper scanned the bodies, looking for anything of value, I started to wander over to some of the other rooms. One room in particular caught my eye, some of the things inside reminding me of the medical center we found Roger in.
"Don't go far," Cooper said as he huffed another vial before rummaging through the men's pockets.
"I won't," I mumbled as I looked back at him one more time before entering the room. I swallowed nervously as I looked around the room before setting my sights on some drawers in a cabinet. After some searching, I could some syringes with the word "Radaway" written on the side. 
"Found some!" I said happily as I made my way back to Cooper to find him shoving vials of Jet into his hat. “That's so much!" I yelled in shock.
The happiness radiating from the two of us could have probably lit up a city. He looked up at me with the biggest smile I have ever seen on him before his eyes flitted to the syringe in my hand. He dropped his hat on the ground as he held out his hand expectantly. 
"Let me help you with that." He stated.
I was perfectly capable of injecting myself, but I liked the idea of Cooper taking care of me, so after a moment of hesitation I passed it to him. While he was looking over the syringe, almost like he was making sure it wasn't fake, I took the time to look over his face. REALLY look it over. His leathery tan skin and his beautiful hazel eyes. I knew that many people looked at him with disgust, but I don't think that after getting to know him I could ever think of him as anything other than beautiful. I was so lost in thought I barely registered the needle going into my arm.
"There," He said with a satisfied tone. "All better."
"Thanks, Coop." I beamed up at him. I had some Radaway, Cooper had a lot of Jet, and he finally kissed me. Everything felt perfect. 
Cooper knelt down to pick back up his hat when something caught his eye. A rectangular black box with glass on the front. 
"What is that?" I asked curiously.
"That, darlin'." He responded, a look of shock on his face, "That is a television."
I ruminated on the word, trying to figure out if I knew it from anywhere as he grabbed something and inserted it into the television. He slowly made his way to the couch and plopped down. The expression on his face was something I couldn't recognize. Amazement? I sat down next to him as I looked at the television curiously, whatever it was it was affecting Cooper. The box sprang to life, lighting up as he pressed a button on the controller he was holding. The television played a video. "Of course!" I thought to myself as I remembered the stories of moving pictures. The man on the video reminded me a lot of Cooper. The western attire, the confidence, and of course the gun he was holding. 
"Reminds me of you," I said innocently, not realizing the weight of my words.
"Nah, He ain't nothin' like me." He said quietly before looking over at me to scan my face before looking back at the video.
The man in the video was talking and I was trying to pay attention, I really was, but It was so long since I had sat anywhere but the ground, and while under normal circumstances I would call the couch uncomfortable, it felt like the most comfortable thing in that moment. I put my head on Cooper's shoulder and yawned. 
"Tired already, sugar?" Cooper teased.
"Maybe a lil' bit," I admitted. "I could stay up a bit longer, though."
"For what?" He mused, almost like he knew what I was thinking. 
I giggled, blush coating my cheeks as I whispered, "Maybe some more kissing?"
He hummed happily before pulling me onto his lap. I yelped in surprise at his sudden movement, grasping at his shoulders. “Now why would you want to kiss lil’ old me?” He was mostly joking, but an undertone of seriousness hung in the air.
“A better question is why wouldn’t I want to kiss you, Cooper? You are strong, you take care of me, you are handsome-“ I started to explain.
He scoffed, interrupting me. “I ain’t handsome.”
“You are!” I try to explain, “You have pretty eyes.” I said like I did days ago, back when he barely tolerated me. “And the way ya hold yourself is very… sexy.”
His eyes snapped up to mine, they were darkening, hungry. The embarrassment coursed through me and I could hardly stand it, so I buried my face in his neck.
“Awww getting shy, sugar?” He mocked. Before I could respond I felt his lips on my cheek. He stayed there for a moment before he started trailing down my neck, leaving tiny kisses in his wake.
I sighed happily as I pushed myself closer to him. I could’ve stayed that way forever, but Cooper had other plans. His hands were still on my hips from when he pulled me onto him. He slowly started to massage them before pressing me harder down on his lap. I let out a sound that was a mixture between a yelp and a moan.
“You like that?” He whispered in my ear.
I shook my head yes, my face still hidden in his neck.
“I wanna see you, darlin’.” He stated, his southern drawl slurred. He wasn’t demanding it, the tone in his voice was soft and hesitant, like he was worried he was going to scare me off.
Holding my breath I slowly pushed myself up. I was sure my face was red as a tomato as I made eye contact with him. When our eyes met, it felt like a damn had been released, lust flowing through me. “Coop,” I whisper before I start moving my hips on my own.
He let out a growl as he squeezed at my plush hips. “So soft.” He said.
“All for you, I’m all for you,” I say before crashing my lips into his.
The kiss was heady and passionate, I felt like I was drowning in him.
“Too many clothes,” I mumble against his mouth. Before I started to tug at his tattered duster jacket.
“I agree,” he sighed. Instead of helping me with his jacket, he ripped my hands from him and quickly tugged off my shirt, almost tearing it in the process. He sucked in a breath as he took in my bare chest. It was a sight to behold. Hair messy, half naked, and pupils blown. There was no way he could question if I wanted him, not anymore.
“God damn.” He groaned before leaning forward to kiss my chest. It’s like he wanted to kiss every inch of my body and I was starting to get impatient.
“Stop your teasin’,” I grumbled out, tugging at his jacket again.
This time, he obliged, quickly shucking it off before his hands started fumbling at his vest buttons. I cursed at him for wearing so many layers. I took this time to slide off his lap to take off my boots and pants, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. His hands stuttered as he threw off his vest and pulled off his shirt, distracted by the view in front of him.
“You, sugar, are way too good for me.” He muttered, his hands reaching out to pull me back onto his lap.
I moaned at the feeling of his rough jeans rubbing against me through my underwear. I could feel myself getting wetter, smearing my arousal on his pants. I rubbed my hands down his scarred chest before finding myself fiddling with his buckle.
“You want me?” I asked as I bit my lip. “Then take me.”
This seemed to flip a switch in him as he quickly spun me around so my back was on the couch. He hovered over me before kissing me fervidly. I undid his belt before popping open the button on his pants. He briefly pulled away from me to pull on his pants completely before slotting himself back on top of me.
“Darlin’,” he moaned as he rubbed his erection against my core.
I was so lost in the feeling I could barely respond, “Yeah?” I moaned out.
“There was more Radaway, right?” He asked. It was sweet that even in his lustful state he was still worried about me.
“Yes, Coop.” I responded, “Now fuck me already.”
He chuckled before mocking me, “So eager.”
He continued to tease me as he slowly pulled down my underwear, kissing down my legs as he went. I started to get dizzy, the arousal was becoming too much to bear. Finally, he pulled my panties off completely, kissing his way back up my body. I widened my legs as far as they could go, silently beckoning him inside of me. I heard him curse under his breath before slowly pushing himself into me. We let out moans in tandem, reveling in the feeling.
I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him down so our foreheads were knocking against each other. I looked deeply into his eyes before I started to plead, “Fuck me, Cooper. Make me feel good. Please!”
“I could never say no to you.” He whispered before sheathing himself completely, his head brushing against that sweet spot inside of me.
He gave me a peck on the lips before trailing down my neck again, sucking as he went. The idea of having marks on me that everyone would see made me moan loudly. He was claiming me as his. I started to wiggle, silently begging him to move. After a few moments, he gave in, starting slow. It was intimate, sweet even. He wasn’t fucking me he was making love to me. He had barely started but I was already a babbling mess. Repeating his name like a prayer I begged for him to go faster. It didn’t take long for him to oblige, picking up his pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The bodies on the floor were long forgotten as we got lost in each other.
“Y/n,” he groaned my name, causing me to squeeze around him. “Sugar, you keep feeling this good I’m not gonna last long.”
I was feeling too good to respond, letting out soft squeaks and moans as he pistoned in and out of me. He snaked his hand down my body to start rubbing at my clit, causing my body to tremble. I was close and he knew it, trying to get me to the edge before he arrived there himself.
“Cooper!” I cried out as I convulsed underneath him, succumbing to the pleasure. I could hear him swearing above me before he stilled, letting out one last moan as he came inside of me.
The both of us were breathing heavily. Saying we were exhausted would have been an understatement. He took a moment before starting to pull out of me. I let out a sad whimper at the lack of contact, grasping at his arms. He let out a breathy laugh at my actions. “I’ll be back.” He said, reassuring me. I watched him with half-lidded eyes as he went into the medical room for a moment before coming back to me with another syringe of Radaway.
I snorted, “That could have waited.”
He didn’t respond, instead opting to give me a smirk before sinking the needle into my arm. Once he was done he grabbed ahold of me, rolling us over so he was underneath me on the couch.
As he was rubbing reassuring circles on my back he told me, “Sleep, darlin’.”
I hummed happily into his chest before giving way to his request.
Tag list: @bruhidkjustwannaread @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @whizbang-cap @topiramateagreeable @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie @fanfictiongirly23 @gobbodoggo @erissco @helveticabold @katgirl05 @tfamidoingwithmylife @miketastic25 @alex-does-art-things
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evie-sturns · 14 hours
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pathetic - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: after spending the whole day bickering with your boyfriend, the only option he gives you to get yourself off is to use his thigh.
contains: thigh riding, slight humiliation if you squint, desperate!reader, soft!dom matt
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i stay seated on the arm chair in the living room while matt manspreads on the couch, he’s been ignoring me for the past hour because i “was starting to piss him off”
i cross my legs on the chair as i observe matt, his top teeth slightly sinking into his bottom lip, his arms crossed showing all his tattoos.
his tattoos make me feel a certain way, they turn me on in times like these.
i squeeze my thighs together, desperate for some sort of relief from the ache between my legs
“matt” i say softly, his gaze moves from the tv over to me with a small hum
i toy with the straps of my white tank top, pulling them down to my mid biceps seductively
he instantly looks back at the tv dismissively, i let out a small puff of air frustratedly
“matt” i repeat, my eyes burning into his side profile
he doesn’t respond.
“i need you matt- i need your hands.. anything.” i say, matt looks over at me
“c’mere.” he demands, pointing to the spot infront of him on the floor.
i instantly spring up off the arm chair, speed walking over to the spot infront of matt on the floor, i look down at him on the couch.
“shorts off.” he says, i shimmy my brandy melville shorts down to my ankles before stepping out of them.
“take your tank top off cause you were so desperate to 5 minutes ago.”
i follow his instructions, pulling off my tank top.
i stand fully revealed in front of matt, studying his face carefully.
he pats his right thigh, i hesitate for a second before straddling his thigh.
i feel embarrassed for a second, sitting completely bare on matt’s thigh which is clothed, just like the rest of his body.
he goes back to watching the tv, i go to reach for the waist band of his pyjama pants but he grabs my wrist “nope” he says quietly.
i whine out of embarrassment before slowly starting to rock back and forth on his leg.
“oh fuck-“ i whisper out, placing my hands on his shoulders for support
i repeatedly brush my clit against the fabric of his pants, earning loud whimpers from me.
i flip my head forward, resting on his shoulder as my hair drapes over his chest and neck.
with each rock on his thigh i let out a loud moan “such a fucking slut oh my god.” matt breathes out, almost amused.
my cheeks flush, matt stays looking foward at the tv not paying much attention to me desperately trying to get myself off on his thigh.
i whimper directly into his ear, feeling myself get close
“good girl, let me help you— come all over my thigh” matt speaks before pushing his thigh up, putting more pressure on my clit.
“matt!—“ i call out, squeezing my eyes shut
“so worked up.” he says with a smile, grabbing my hips and pressing me down onto him
“look at you, riding my leg, humping all over my thigh.” matt gently laces his hand into the back of my hair, bringing my head away from his shoulder
he tilts my head down to look at where we meet, his pants which now have a reasonably large damp spot.
my mouth goes slack, matt palms himself with his free hand through his pants, relieving some pressure.
“matt oh my god—“ i whine, my head falling fowards into his chest
matt presses his thigh up again, i let out a loud moan of his name, my nails scratching his shoulders as i feel my orgasm crash over me
all the pleasure i just felt hitting me at once, i arch my back. matt groans at the sight, he can now feel me pulsating on his leg.
i slowly come to a stop, the stimulation becoming too much as i pull back from matt’s chest and lock eyes with him. his cheeks are flushed and he has a small innocent smile on his face.
i’m a panting mess as i glance down between my legs at the mess i made.
“you were wet” he laughs slightly
“me?” i say with a small smirk, pointing down at the very obvious patch that matt’s attempting to cover with his hand
“you’re acting tough when you came in your pants” i tease,
“you’re acting tough like you didn’t just get yourself off on my actual thigh for 10 minutes.” he bites back,
i go to open my mouth again but matt stops me
“you’re acting tough like you weren’t begging me to touch you then ended up resorting to rubbing yourself on my clothes.” he follows up his last comment
i cover my face with my hands “shut up!!” i smile, “go get changed pretty” matt laughs, tapping my hip.
i slowly lift myself off of him, stumbling over to the pile of clothes on the floor.
“sorry about your pants.” i say while redressing myself in the small amount of fabric i had on earlier
“don’t apologise, that shit was so hot.” matt says back, i shake my head with a grin on my face.
i flop back down on the couch next to matt, he reaches a hand out and fixes my messy hair.
just then i hear the door unlock, followed by chris walking inside “sorry guys, gotta piss” he says frantically while jogging over to the stairs with a small glance at us.
“matt why the fuck are your pants so wet did you piss yourself?” he calls out as he runs up the stairs
matt’s eyes widen, his cheeks instantly flushing again
“i spilt water!” he calls out.
——————
hey guys!! i hope you liked this it was really fun to write
also billie’s world tour wtf?? AND NOT COMING TO NZ but it’s okay i’m going to australia im so excited STOP
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209
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tacticalprincess · 20 hours
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NAHH bc subby könig is so brain rot material like, instead of reader being free use for him, it is HE that is free use for READER. like yes whine and whimper all you want big subby man, I’m in control now. you do as I want and maybe I’ll let you use your hands.
(I started typing more but cut myself off) 💀
cw afab!f!reader, sub!könig
something about a seven foot giant and seasoned mercenary turning absolutely pathetic and desperate when it comes to you and your cunt. completely at your beck and call, willing to do whatever you ask.
riding könig to the point of overstimulation until he’s producing nothing but whines and pained, guttural pleads. for what? he doesn’t even know, too pussy-drunk and overwhelmed to think straight, brain fuzzy at the tight, wet feeling engulfing his dick. tears pool in his eyes as he watches your hips gyrate incessantly on his lap, the feeling of being fully seethed inside of you too much for him, while you ride his sensitive, large cock like he’s nothing more than one of your plastic toys. you have no regard for his feelings as you chase your own pleasure, puffy clit rubbing against his solid stomach, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body while his thick dick penetrates your spongy g-spot.
he’s transfixed and nearly drooling, eyes honed in on your breasts bouncing, head thrown back while you use him to get off. his greedy hands itch to feel your soft body, but all of his attempts get them smacked out of the way instantly, along with threats to tie them down — or even, god forbid, stopping altogether, leaving him achingly hard with no release. you’re so small in comparison, it would be so easy for him to take control of the situation, reverse the roles and fuck you on his cock like every instinct in his body is urging him to, but he doesn’t. he wants to be good for you, make you feel good. the dichotomy only adds to his frustration until he’s all flushed red and sweaty, begging to feel your cunt cream all over him, for you to prove that he is your good boy.
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its insane how many of one piece's quirks have insane plot twist reasons behind them. like no one expects there to be a reason why the world is made entirely out of islands, or why the technology is so strange.
these worldbuilding details are played off so casually that you don't think too much about them too much. why would you? one piece is such a weird series that you just adjust to it!
ive seen so many people joke about how one piece has robots and cloning but no cars and they have to use snails as telephones. the concept is so ridiculous that you don't think on it at all.
so when its revealed that this world used to be super technologically advanced before the world government's creation you lose ur fucking mind!!
and thats happening again now with the reveal that this world has been slowly mass flooding for centuries now!! this might happen more in the future so im gonna think myself into a hole over what other silly quirks could be lore important later
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htchnr · 1 day
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♰ 'bout damn time ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚
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➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!
CW ➻ mention of being a little hungover ⋆ Cooper being rude to Lucy (as always) ⋆ lowkey lovesick Cooper ⋆ other than that not much ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
PAIRING ➻ the same reader x Cooper relationship from this drabble series!
SUMMARY ➻ after a while of travelling, seems all Lucy had to do was get rid of the Vault suit. OR, many times Cooper is nice to you, and one time he isn't mean to Lucy. WC ➻ 750~.
AUTHORS NOTE ➻ i'm taking a short break from writing! no longer than a few weeks don't worry! college finals are getting closer, plus life's getting pretty busy so i could use all the time i can get to take it easy and not over work myself. so here have a cute silly fic before i go on break 😁
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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Lucy notices Cooper's deep care for you through both little things.
those things would include giving you the first cooked skewer of meat off a fire, (not before he takes a piece off to taste or see if it might make anyone (you) sick.) he always has you walking in front of him, then Lucy in front of you. wether he does this so he can stare at your ass all day, or to make sure he can always keep an eye on you she'll never know.
he lends you his hat from time to time, mainly when your headaches are bad or he notices you could use some cover from the harsh sun of California. Lucy's even seen Cooper lend you his duster if it's particularly cold at night. hell, he even allows you to snuggle up to him for extra warmth. she mainly thinks he allows this so he can keep better watch on you, but a small part inside her thinks that he likes the comfort of your body against his.
despite him knowing you can more than handle yourself in a fight he always puts himself first, as if to scope out any possible things that could happen and catch whatever bad things come first.
and perhaps the thing Lucy has grown to adore the most, is watching Cooper wordlessly extend a hand to you — wether you fall behind a little and he reaches to hold your hand, or to help you get up. it almost feels like she's invading something intimate and personal when she catches glimpses of the actions.
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the market is loud and busy, full of people buying and selling a wide range of things. you had moved through town in the hopes for a hotel, the last bounty having paid more than enough for a few nice nights of sleep.
"hey, you need anythin'?" Cooper asks from beside you as the three of you walk through a busy market. "i'll do an extra poke 'round for whatever."
you nod, "i'm good i think," you reply, and Cooper looks at you with that 'yeah sure' look, as if to nudge you to think harder. looking down at your thin coat, you sigh, "okay.. maybe if you can find a better coat anywhere? winter's coming up and it would be very nice of you?" you smile at him, another warm autumn breeze blowing past.
he nods, scarred fingers rolling the caps around in his coat pocket. "well i would like some-" Lucy speaks up.
"zip it Vaultie, didn't ask." he huffs, raising a hand to pat your shoulder. "i'll be back," he nods to you, looking over your shoulder to give Lucy a sour, unamused look.
you nod back, "if we're not here in a bit we'll probably be back at the hotel, my feet are killing me and last night at the bar was too much," you groan, rolling your shoulders. Cooper nods, walking off.
you huff with a small smile before moving along the market stalls to peruse for more med supplies. Lucy scoffs behind you, walking up to your side. you look over to her, brows twitching with tired curiosity. "hm?" you hum, as if asking her what's up.
she shrugs, "how does he keep doing it?" she asks, her face displaying her confusion and frustration.
you shake your head, looking over at a stall. "what do you mean?"
"switching like that," she adjusts her backpack. "he's shockingly nice with you, asking you if you need anything, then when i pitch in all of that is gone and he snaps," she huffs.
you wave her off, "it's nothing personal," you reply, eyes glued to a stall selling a bunch of clothes. "well, probably anyway." you pull Lucy along with you, stopping before the stall. "you know what might lessen his snappy-ness towards you?" you turn to her, her big doe eyes blinking back at you.
"what?" she answers.
"getting rid of that Vault suit." you point to the massive crate full of clothes. "pick a few things out, i'll pay, and we'll call it a uh, little experiment, yeah?"
she thinks for a minute, the Vault suit did have it's benefits, but it was also a blaring neon sign telling people where she's from. which Lucy has learned the hard way that that's usually not beneficial anymore. she nods, hands moving to start sifting through the pile of clothes.
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the sun has long since set by the time the two of you got back to the hotel. you had briefly looked around the market for Cooper, but upon not finding him you decided to just head back to the hotel. you sluggishly walked up the steps, occasionally eyeing Lucy's new clothes. it sure took some getting used to, not having that hideous Vault suit to look at.
you stepped up the final stair, walking through the short hall until you reached the door of the room you were renting. you unlocked the door, finding Cooper lounging on a chair in the corner of the room. "hey," you offer, letting Lucy walk in before closing and locking the door.
Lucy eyed Cooper as you two came it, watching for any change in his expression. yet, she got nothing.
he groans as he gets up, grabbing his hat and chucking it on the bed you and him shared. he reached for something that laid on the bed, then chucked it your way. you caught the item, moving it around in your hands — a thick coat.
you grinned, "thank you! it looks my size too!" you put on the coat, grinning as it fits almost perfectly.
he cracks a small smile, nodding. "not a problem, dollface."
Lucy looks between the two of you, watching as you take the coat off and throw it over a chair. you set down your heavy bag and pull your boots off, throwing yourself face first into the bed. god that feels good, you think to yourself.
Cooper huffs, throwing his duster over your new(ish) coat. "c'mon move those legs, else you're sleepin' on the floor." Lucy's eyes widen, he'd never, right? though the tone in his voice doesn't hold an ounce of seriousness. well, just the part where he asked you to move.
you groan into the mattress, mumbling something he can't hear. "c'mon, move it doll," he grunts as he kneels on the bed, strong, scarred hands gripping your thighs as he shoves you to one side of the bed and goes to lay down not before landing a crude slap on your ass. he rests his head against the headboard, his hat tipped forward to cover his eyes.
you let out a long, tired sigh, turning to face him. you lay beside him, hands idly fiddling with one of his belts. you lean in closer, voice hushed. "y'know," sleep lacing your voice. "managed to get her to ditch the suit, it'd be nice if you would say something,"
Cooper's hairless brows furrow as he sighs. you let out a yawn, nudging your head against his shoulder as you slowly drift asleep, hands merely resting against his hip.
Lucy always finds herself quietly observing you two, watching the little strangely affectionate gestures between you and the man who seems to have it out for her. like now, she watches him sigh deeply, before lightly shaking his head.
"hey Vaultie?"
Lucy nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, even though it's quiet as to not wake you.
"yeah?" the corners of her lips almost twitching.
"'bout damn time you got rid of it."
Lucy's lips pull into a small smile. the comment might not have meant much to anyone else, but to her it was neutral, rather than his usual hostility. and she'll take any win, no matter how small.
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So, I saw an interview with the show’s writers and it gave me a lot of thoughts regarding fallout, narrative themes, and colonialism.
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First off, I consider myself pretty misanthropic, but even I know “people are evil and innately bad and destructive” isn’t the theme of fallout. That’s doing a lot to lift the blame off of American imperialism and how *that* is the great evil the series warns us about, not “everyone is like this”. The first game opens with us seeing American soldiers executing prisoners of war as America annexes Canada to take petroleum and uranium: it’s clearly about American evil and military/imperial evil, not something innate to all people.
Second, fallout is unique *because* you see “civilization” in a post-apocalyptic setting. Tim Cain has a quote about fallout 1 where he said “my concern in this story is the ethics of life in the aftermath of nuclear war, not building a better laser gun”, and that’s pretty central to fallout. Rather than stagnating, it tries to show us how life would adapt and move on from the apocalypse. The world will change, yes, but it will change in that the apocalypse will become more distant. The future won’t look much like the day the bombs dropped.
Third, what a colonial view to have! “Where’s civilization? Where’s *everything*?” is what you got from westerns? You think railroads and churches being built in recently stolen territory (as is common in Wild West stories) is “civilization”? Wanna tell us what you think America was pre-colonization, Wagner?
It shows this perspective that doesn’t truly want to admit the flaws of America, either willfully or (more likely) due to ignorance. It’s a sheltered perspective, one that doesn’t know history, one that doesn’t know other cultures, one that doesn’t even know the themes of the story it’s writing for…
Edit: this next quote doesn’t have anything to do with those points, it just feels wrong to me to write so spitefully for a series…
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hungrykeaton · 2 days
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Eat, eat, eat. Let the pressure rise. You're going to burst, so what? If it happens, it happens, so you might as well eat as much as you can anyway riiiiiight?
Ugh fuck that’s so hot, I wanna eat until I burst so bad 😫 you’re so right I’m destined to just explode from gorging myself too far so might as well just give in all together
Just got done gorging on some Chinese food and feeling like I’m about to detonate 🥵🥵🥵 it’s normal for a gut to be this taut and round after eating right??😩😩😩
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lovifie · 1 day
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Hiii 🩷
I really loved your ‘Mr & Mrs. Price’ story where his partner he is marrying is younger than him! I was wondering if you had anymore of those stories?
If not, I was wondering if you could write a little after they get married sort of thing. Like would they have kids right away, etc.
Thank you!!
Hi love!! 🩷🩷 Thank you for asking so nicely 💕
At the moment I don't have anything else written for Price and her younger wife, so I'll write you a little bit of what I thought would happen after the wedding.
A continuation to Mr. & Mrs. Price
The first thing would be the honeymoon, and Price gives me the vibes to go somewhere cold, like the Norwegian Fjords (? I don't know why, he just does. Constantly clinging to his wife like: "I'm cold, dear. Can't you see?" Only to sneaky get his hands under your clothes.
Friends and family complain about how little photos you took, but it's just because most of what you took, were taken inside your room. So many, so many pictures of his hand on your body, the gold band on his finger shining on all of them.
So much fluffy/dirty talk. "My dear, wifey... See? I told you I was going to marry you one day, and look at you, Mrs.Price... so fucking beautiful under me..."
Neither of you are surprised when a couple of months later you get a positive pregnancy test.
"We used protection..." Price says, as if that would change something.
"Yeah... Until we run out, Mr. I Pulled Out." You say.
Having a child so quickly after the wedding was neither of your plans, but Price was already talking about taking a step back from the dangerous mission and for some reason neither of you were panicking after the news.
It was a weird feeling, at first at least. But on the doctor appointment, when you hear the little alien's heartbeat it was set. Price's hand holding yours, the whole way back home.
He did step back from the dangerous mission, working at base helping the recruits and helping on the small missions, not wanting to be far from you. So he spent his working hours at base, and one day he forgot some documents at home and asked if you could bring them to him.
So you did.
You grabbed the folder, and drove your pregnant self to base.
Ghost was the one who saw you first, almost as you stepped off the car. And he was immediately on your side, stunned when he saw your belly.
"Are you..." He asked, not wanting to be rude; looking from your stomach to your face.
You quickly nod, the man's eyebrows disappearing under his mask. He took the folder from your hands, as if it was a heavy piece of furniture you were holding making you laugh. "Congratulations... That's what people say, right?"
You nod again, holding onto his arm to ease his mind as you walk towards Price's office. Small talk about how you were planning a baby shower and if he would like to assist, the panic clear on his face making you chuckle again.
"I'm pulling your leg, Simon. I'll send you a message with the important news." You say, patting his arm.
"And I will be forever grateful for it." He says, slowly falling in a comfortable chat with you.
Gaz and Soap walk out of Price's office just as you turn the corner. Both their expression of shock.
"Captain!" Soap calls him, annoyed with just finding out. "Ye got yer missus pregnant already? Ye filthy dog."
Price furrows his eyebrows, walking out and smiling widely. Quickly walking to you to give a kiss on the lips, his hands resting on your tummy.
"How are my girls doing, sweetheart?" He asks, Simon hearing it perfectly.
"Girls? You are having a baby girl?" He asks, making Gaz and Soap repeat it as echo.
You chuckle again, taking the fold from Ghost's hand and handing it to Price. "We are doing great today, John. Here's the documents, Simon wouldn't let me hold them myself."
"Good lad." He says, nodding at the mancunian making you shake your head.
Unlike Ghost, Gaz actually asks you about the baby shower and if he can assist. Price doesn't say anything, but he is really glad he offered; having now a familiar face at the party.
And even though only Gaz assists in person, he brings a present. "From Ghost, Soap and I, hope the girly likes it. Whenever she uses it."
He says that because the gift is a bright pink toy car for the baby to drive around.
Price complains about the safety of it, but later at night when everyone is gone he sits on the sofa, looking at you drive the car yourself talking about how you always wanted one as a kid. And Price is not sure how he got this lucky in life.
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