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xxxdreamscapexxx · 3 months

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A night full of surprises

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 7.5k

Summary: This is a request I got and started to write on the 6th of June 2023 (yes, I know, this took me a while). I can't even find it in my asks anymore, but I have the author's decription copied, and it should be enough, so here it is:

"I'm thinking manipulative wanda being overly obsessed with reader to the point where she always calls you earlier than she has to leave for work so she can spend more time with you. She'll run her hands on your arms and sometimes rest her palm on your thigh while asking you difficult questions just to see you squirm beneath her presence. R on the other hand will feel very shy and intimidated by her. But there's also this attraction she kept pushing down because she has to be professional and is extremely scared that wanda will know about it and stop letting R babysit anymore, which also leads to her not seeing the middle aged woman again. But of course, being wanda, she knows exactly what R was feeling. By the way R squeezes her thighs, blush, and stutter, it doesn't have to take a mind reader to know. But one thing R didn't know about wanda is she can be impatient. She's wanted you for a long time, watched the way you'd wet yourself in front of her. Time will come where she would want a taste, where she'd take whatever is hers. After all, she's earned it for making R feel that way, right? So take she does and claim she will. And what a sweet, sweet R as reward could be..."

Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, oral, fingering, finger sucking, strap-on sex, R has a bit of an oral fixation, tribbing, overstimulation, Wanda being pervy, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader

Masterlist with all my works.

Wanda loved watching you through your windows. She did it more often than she should, more often than it was appropriate for a woman like her, but she didn’t care. She hardly cared if neighbours saw her sneaking glances, or peaked through the windows whenever you were visible. As long as you didn’t know of her secret activities, everything else was inconsequential.

She adored to see you read your books, looking effortlessly beautiful on your recliner, waves of your hair falling around your face. She loved to see you retrieving your mail, or do some small things around the yard, dressed casually. She never missed the days when you went out, loving to see you all dolled up. On those occasions she liked to watch you and imagine that you did it all for her. That you’d put on your outfit to impress her, the make-up flawless, because you wanted to look nice for her. Not that she ever thought you needed all that. You were already perfect. But it made pride bloom in her chest to imagine, even for a bit, that you made the effort just for her.

Those were, of course, perfectly normal occasions, when she could see you. Then again, Wanda could never be satisfied with just that. She needed all of you, she craved you, she fantasized about you… She was obsessed. She felt a hunger so profound that she had to resort to more devious ways of seeing you.

Of course, inserting herself into your life wasn’t hard. She found a casual moment to meet you, introducing herself with a charming smile, then she invited you over to her house, just for coffee, finding ways to bond through mutual interests, she made sure to introduce you to her kids, her eyes sparkling at how quickly they grew to like you… It was easy, honestly. Before you knew it, she’d asked you for a favour, watching the boys for a couple of hours. A favour that grew into more of a non-committed babysitting arrangement.

That’s how Wanda learned about your schedule, about your job, how she soon got invited to your house. The two of you acted more like friends, than anything else and Wanda couldn’t be happier about it. Especially because, now that you had your guard down, she could easily get access to more personal information.

She’d ask you to join her at her house earlier than your scheduled babysitting appointment and she’d sit across from you, listening to you talk about your day. It almost became the norm. She’d sometimes ask you personal questions, but friends did that. So you had no problem to share that you’re single, that you liked women, a confession that brought a blush to your cheeks, feeling uncertain to mention something like that to the older woman, but she took it with a smile, which calmed your nerves.

In truth, Wanda almost jumped out of her skin with joy, knowing that little piece of information. That night, when she settled next to her window, eyes fixated on your bedroom, she watched with even more interest than before, since now she could picture what you fantasized about, while you lay in bed, touching yourself.

Yes, this was, perhaps, Wanda’s favorite part of her daily routine. She’d watch you from the shadows as you undressed, your curtains naively left open. Wanda couldn’t fathom, at first, why you left them so, considering anyone could spy on you, but she wasn’t going to complain, when she was the one hungrily watching.

You had such a beautiful body. She had admired that from day one. And when she found out how you liked to take care of yourself, she was hooked. She saw you splayed out on your bed, legs spread open, while your fingers moved inside you. You were such a pretty sight. Your back arched, your hair scattered across the pillow, your free hand teasing your nipples… How was she supposed to resist all that?

No, there was no way she could resist you, so she did what she had to, to make sure she could keep you close. And she quickly moved on from casual meetings and friendly outings to inviting you over for a day around the pool, sneaking countless pictures of you, while you were sunbathing, her fingers twitching every time she lathered sunscreen on you. She invited you for dinners, she left little treats for you, whenever you babysat for her, just so she could show you she cared. She gave you little back massages on the days you felt exhausted, she checked in on you, to make sure you’re ok. All that, and you still had no clue she wanted you!

Not to mention how often she tried to flirt, sitting next to you while you had coffee together, her thigh touching yours, while she talked, or her hands running over your arms, while she complimented you, her soft words of praise… God, she tried so hard, but you were so shy! She could see the blush on your cheeks, when she was close, she could tell she affected you, but not once did you respond. A fact, she found extremely frustrating. It made her resort to not only having to watch you through your windows, but also taking care of the burning need between her legs all by herself.

Now that just wouldn’t do. It was clear to Wanda that you were meant to be hers and after another night of hiding while she watched you touch yourself, her own hand mirroring your movements, she’d had enough. She wanted to know what you felt like, wanted to taste your lips, your skin, she wanted to breathe you in, wanted to have you under her fingertips, writhing. She wanted everything. And perhaps through some kind of miracle, fate seemed to smile upon her just a few days later.

She was asked to attend a conference out of town, and of course, she couldn’t think of a better person to entrust her children to, but you. She made sure that you’ll have everything you need, inviting you into her home with a wide smile and she gave you a copy of her schedule in case you needed anything, before she left, climbing into her car and waving at the three of you as she drove away.

She couldn’t help but smile at the notion, of all three of you, huddled together to see her off. It was the perfect picture of the family she hoped to one day have and she knew that she wouldn’t have it with anyone but you. You were perfect, smiling softly, as your eyes followed her movements, your arms wrapped around her boys. You looked so pretty and domestic, so delicate… God, how she longed this would be her reality.

Wanda couldn’t stop thinking of it all the way to her conference, the long hours of driving passing with her mind picturing countless scenarios, countless precious moments that you could share. It was so hard to shake off the thought that this wasn’t in fact real and that, despite her longing, you weren’t actually hers, that she had to sit in her car for a few minutes, grounding herself in the present, before she could join her colleagues.

The hours moved slowly, fraying her nerves, making her check her watch desperately the later it got. She could see the light of the day fading, fluorescent lights flickering to life in the building, as her colleagues droned on and on. It was getting clear that she wouldn’t be home on time and she used a quick break to give you a call.

“Hi, Wanda.” You greeted with a smile. “How’s the conference going?” You asked.

“Hi, darling.” She replied on instinct, the sound of your voice bringing a smile to her lips, despite her exhaustion, before she paused, having to remind herself that you’re not hers. “The conference is taking a little longer.” Wanda cleared her throat. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be.” She confessed. “Would you mind staying a bit longer?” She asked, her voice apologetic.

“Of course, I’ll stay.” You replied with a smile. “We’ll order pizza for dinner, we’ll play some games, maybe watch a movie. You don’t have to worry about us.” You said in a calming tone, bringing instant relief to Wanda’s overworked mind.

“Thank you, Y/N! You’re a life-saver.” Wanda said with a sigh. “If it gets too late, just settle in my bedroom.” She continued. “Just make yourself at home. I’ll do my best to be back as soon as I can.” She assured you, fingers picking at her phone’s case nervously.

“Don’t worry about us, Wanda.” She heard you say on the other end, calming, soft, almost making Wanda forget her reality again. “And drive safely. We’ll be just fine here.” You reassured her again, making the older woman sigh, as if a weight was just lifted.

Despite the shortness of the conversation, it was enough for her to feel more at ease. Enough to get her through the conference and as soon as she was able, she was back in her car and on her way to the three of you.

It was late, the roads dark and abandoned. She had to stop at a gas station to buy herself a cup of coffee, just so she could keep herself alert, her hope of making it home on time completely forgotten. She knew it would be way past the boys’ bedtime, but she hoped to at least see you.

When she reached her house, it was a little after midnight and the darkened rooms told her that all three of you were asleep, making her walk silently through the rooms, to make sure she wouldn’t wake you.

She checked on the boys first, cracking open their door, to see their sweet faces buried in their pillows, blissfully sleeping in their beds, each one tucked in with his favorite toy, making her heart swell with love. She was tempted to go in and kiss their little foreheads, but she didn’t want to disturb them, so she closed the door instead, walking further down the hall to her own bedroom.

She opened the door softly, peering in to find you tucked in. You had pulled down one of her pillows, cuddling it close to your chest, a leg swung over it. She knew it’s how you usually slept, she’d seen it enough times through her windows, yet emotions started to swirl within her at the sight. She wanted to replace the damned thing with her own body, to feel you against her, to be surrounded by your warmth, she wanted to feel your soft breaths as you slept, wanted to run her hands over your body. She thought of how much of your scent will be on her pillow tomorrow, thought about burying her face in it, while she touched herself, so she could imagine that she’s with you. Just the thought had her hands twitching.

Wanda hadn’t realized how dangerous it was, having you here, in her house, in her bed, vulnerable and asleep. Not really. Not until you were here and her imagination had started to run wild. Would you feel her if she climbed in with you? Would she be able to stop herself, if she allows herself this one small indulgence? Would you stir, if she wrapped her arms around you? Would you know, if she buried her face in your neck, while she ground herself against the swell of your ass?

Before she could take her fantasies any further, she saw you stir, her eyes widening in shock, as if caught doing something wrong, before she reminded herself that you couldn’t possibly know what she had just fantasized about.

“Go back to sleep, sweet girl.” Wanda whispered softly, clearing her throat when her voice came out raspy. “I’ll just grab some sheets for the couch.” She explained, as if she needed to give you a reason for being so close to your sleeping form. As if she got caught doing something terribly inappropriate.

It took you a moment to process her words, your mind hazy and tired, your voice rough, when you finally spoke.

“You can stay here.” You said, pulling away the covers. You wanted to say that she shouldn’t be forced to sleep on the couch, in her own house, but your mind couldn’t quite formulate the right words, so this sentence just had to do.

Wanda knew she shouldn’t. Knew it was a dangerous thing, letting someone like her be so close to you. She knew the temptation would be too great, that she wouldn’t be able to resist her urges, yet she couldn’t force herself to say no. She wanted this. No, she needed this. She wanted to spend tonight, pretending that you’re hers.

What Wanda didn’t know was that, despite your obliviousness to her secret activities, you were putting on your nightly shows just for her. Or, with her on your mind. Wanda was just so beautiful, so kind, so caring and sweet, that she had you from the very first day you met her. And the way she treated you certainly didn’t help. Her hands always found ways to touch you, compliments and praises spilling from her lips, as her eyes glided over your body. It was driving you crazy. She always left you little treats, wrote sweet notes for you to find, gave the best hugs. Not to mention you’d left her house with soaked panties so often, it was a miracle you hadn’t stained her couch yet. But you never dared tell her such a thing. You never wanted to fall from her good graces and lose her friendship, too scared that should you admit how desperately in love you’d fallen, you’d never see her, or the boys again. Yet tonight, fate her tested both of you and you were both too weak to resist.

Without much protest, Wanda pulled out a tank top and a fresh pair of panties from her drawers and she took the fastest shower of her life, before she changed quickly, so she could settle into bed next to you. You’d given up your cuddly pillow and it seemed you were once again sleeping peacefully and Wanda had to bite back a smirk, when you backed into her, your ass pressing into her.

It was almost too easy, Wanda thought to herself, as she put her arm around you. You were so warm, so soft, so exposed… She could feel that you had nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of panties on. This was the only barrier that stood between her and what she wanted. Some measly scraps of clothes. But Wanda took it slow, she nuzzled her face in your neck, breathing you in. She wasn’t sure if she was secretly taking her time, so you’d be properly asleep, so there’d be no witnesses to her depravity, so you’d never know how deep her perversions went, or how terribly she craved you. Another part of her wanted you wide awake, so tomorrow you wouldn’t be able to deny how good she made you feel. She wanted you to remember all the things she’d do to you.

In the end it was you, who made the first move. Your body betraying you, while you slept. Little moans and whimpers escaping your lips. At first she thought you might be having a bad dream, a nightmare, but soon she heard a word. Her ears strained to make it out, her arm tightening around you protectively, as if it would do any good, until she finally understood. It wasn’t a word. It was a name. Wanda. You were mewling her name like a little kitten, thighs squeezing together, trying to rut against nothing, seeking friction.

It was the last straw, really. The last bit of restraint she had, simply snapped like a twig and Wanda’s arm tightened even more, her hold so firm, you could hardly move, as she started to leave little kisses on your neck, whispering out your name, so she could bring you out of your dream and into reality.

She felt you wake up slowly, almost heard the gears in your head spin as you realized where you are and remembered Wanda coming home, remembered inviting her into your bed… Well… Her bed, really. Then you remembered what you’d just dreamt about, now more of an idea, an echo, of something distant, yet so powerful it made your cheeks heat up.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” You said, voice rough, body rigid, as if afraid that if you move, Wanda would be able to see every dirty fantasy that you’d just dreamt up.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Wanda said. Her voice was like liquid gold, smooth and seductive. “I can take care of you.” She continued, longing filling up her words. “Would you let me do that, sweet girl?” She asked, still holding you, still firmly pressed into you. “Would you let me help you feel good?”

“Wanda...” You gasped, utterly stunned. It was too much to process, and your mind was so hazy. Were you dreaming this up too? Would you wake up tomorrow, alone in Wanda’s bed and curse yourself for believing, or even hoping she would want you the same way you wanted her?

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s me.” The older woman reassured you. “You were dreaming.” She explains, patient. “You were having quite the dream about me.” She continues, speaking as if she’d seen right into your head and knew exactly what you’d dreamt about. “I must have been very good, if I made you chant my name.” She says bluntly, smirking at the way your heart quickened at her words. “Can I confess something, Y/N?” She suddenly ask, making you wait for her next words with bated breath. “Even though you were dreaming of me, even when you were saying my name, I still couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Some imaginary Wanda was having something I want all to myself.” She told you, words whispered into the night air like a secret. “I want you all to myself.”

For a second there, you thought your heart had stopped beating. You could hardly believe it. But Wanda’s grip loosened a bit, allowing you to turn on your back, your eyes meeting, and you knew that this wasn’t another one of your dreams. This was real.

“Would you let me help you feel good, darling?” Wanda asked again, hips straddling your waist. She looked so beautiful, her blonde hair falling around her face, her green eyes, now darkened pools that never looked away, her lips parted, as if waiting to devour you. “Would you let me make you mine?”

“Please.” You almost whined. You were desperate, hands reaching up, caressing her cheek for a moment, before you were pulling her down.

Wanda’s response was instantaneous. As soon as she had your consent, she leaned down, those same, soft, pink lips you had just stared at, now claiming yours in a kiss.

She kissed you over and over again, hungry, like a barely-contained animal that was fighting to break free. She had her hands all over your body, desperate to feel as much of you as she could, caressing and stroking, eager to feel your naked skin, instead of the t-shirt you were wearing.

She broke the kiss just long enough to take the offensive item off, discarding it on the floor, without paying it much thought, before she was kissing you again, tongue invading your mouth and exploring eagerly.

Wanda was practically salivating. It wasn’t just the fact that all her fantasies were coming true. It was also how adorably submissive you were being, how eager you were for everything she gave you… It was that spark in your eyes. You weren’t putting on a show for her. You genuinely wanted her. Craved her. You were just as in love with her as she was with you. She just knew it.

Not wanting to lose anymore time, she sneaked a hand between your bodies, fingers caressing your pussy over the damp material of your panties. She was instantly rewarded with a moan, your hips canting up to meet her, desperate to feel more of the pleasure she was promising.

“Be a good girl and stay still, darling.” Wanda whispered against your lips, voice starting to vibrate with all the emotions that swirled inside her. “Unless you want me to stop?” She suggested, raising a single eyebrow at you.

“No, please don’t stop.” You mewled, shaking your head, hands clinging to her shoulders.

“Legs open.” Wanda commanded, pulling your thighs apart. She didn’t want you squeezing your legs and getting any pleasure that didn’t come from her. She’d seen you do that enough times and now that she was finally taking you for herself, she never wanted to see it again.

She took her time kissing you, fingers drawing patterns against your things for a bit, testing your will to follow her instructions, and when she saw that you’d behaved yourself, she started again. Stroking your clit through your panties, drawing slow, teasing circles over it. It was driving you crazy and you needed so much more, so it wasn’t a surprise when you finally broke down and begged.

“Wanda, please. Please, touch me.” You asked, your big eyes looking up at her pleadingly, your legs spreading even wider in a silent invitation.

“That’s my good girl.” Wanda praised, kissing you deeply, while she pulled your panties to the side. “That’s what I want you to do from now. Every time you want to feel good, I want you to come to me. I’ll take such good care of you.” She promised, voice seductive and low.

You nodded, swallowing thickly at the intensity in her eyes. You could tell she meant every word. But you weren’t given much time to think of what that could mean, her fingers gliding over your entrance, gathering the wetness accumulated there and dragging it up to your clit. She circled it gently, careful not to overwhelm you, building you up steadily.

Unable to resist much longer, her head lowered, taking a nipple into her mouth and circling it with her tongue while she stimulated you, feeling you squirm under her, your back arching into her touch and demanding more. You were a greedy little thing. Wanda liked that.

Between the way she sucked on your nipples and rubbed your clit, it didn’t take you long, before you felt yourself reaching the edge. You’d dreamt of being with her for so long, you’d pictured what it would be like so many times, you’d touched yourself to such thoughts more than you’d like to admit and now that it was finally a reality, you could hardly contain yourself. You held on to Wanda’s shoulders and hair, pulling her closer and moaning out her name, just as you had in the dream, desperate for a release.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Wanda detached herself from your perfect breasts just long enough to ask.

“Yes, I’m so close!” You gasped, wishing she would move her fingers just a bit faster. “Please!” You murmured on an exhale.

Wanda smirked then, starting a quick descent down your body, her slick fingers pushing inside you and filling you up perfectly. God, she loved the feeling of your walls squeezing her, fluttering around her frantically, like the wings of a butterfly.

“You feel so good.” Wanda almost growled, her fingers moving in and out of you suddenly. She couldn’t contain her excitement and quite frankly, she didn’t want to, either. “This is my pussy now.” She said with determination, refusing to give up this feeling. “No one else is allowed to touch you, you hear me?” She demanded, fingers speeding up, becoming almost rough. “Say it, baby. Say you’re mine and I’ll make you come so hard.” Wanda coaxed, her smile growing wider the more you fisted at the sheets and moaned for her.

“I’m yours, Wanda! Please, please, make me come.” You pleaded softly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when she hit a particularly good spot.

Wanda’s body moved even lower, her head between your legs. She breathed in your scent shamelessly, making you try to hide your face from her in embracement, but she was intoxicated. You smelled so damn good. She could see her fingers disappear inside you, your wetness coating them, making her feel proud that she could turn you into such a mess.

“Don’t hide from me, baby.” She reprimanded, when she saw the way you covered your face. “Watch me.” She whispered, as if it was an invitation.

When you finally looked down, meeting her gaze, she lowered her head, tongue sticking out so she could taste you. Her lips wrapped around your clit, her soft, wet mouth enveloping you and making you almost scream at how good it felt. You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You were on the edge and with a few delicious strokes, Wanda pushed you over it.

A tidal wave of pleasure washed over you, and you bit your lip in an attempt not to scream. It felt so good being full of her, being stroked by her tongue. It was better than what your fingers could offer, better than any other lover you’d had. And she kept moving in that same rhythm, milking every last bit of pleasure you could offer, until you were spent.

Wanda could tell you were done, but she wasn’t even close to being done with you. She had barely gotten a taste of you and her tongue continued to lap at your clit in eager strokes.

“Shhh, it’s ok, sweetheart, you’re ok. Let me clean you up.” She spoke softly, soothing you and quieting down your whines of protest.

She removed her fingers, but soon enough her tongue replaced them at your opening. She lapped at you gently, doing everything in her power to contain her hunger for you, but her hands held you down firmly, ready to stop any attempt for you to get away. She would bruise you if she held on any harder than that, you both knew it, but neither of you cared. You would wear her marks proudly. Just as you would take the overstimulation, if it meant she would keep touching you.

“You taste so good.” Wanda groaned, detaching herself just long enough to speak the words, before returning with renewed hunger.

You moaned when her tongue returned back to your clit and you had to force yourself to stay still, to take everything she wanted to give you. That’s what good girls do. Good girls take what’s given to them. And it wasn’t hard. The craving within you returned, growing harder to ignore with each stroke of her tongue. God, she was so damn good with her mouth.

“So good.” You sighed, when she lapped over a particularly good spot.

You could feel her smile as she looked up at you, repeating the motion over and over again, feeling your body relax under her fingers, now eager for her ministrations.

“Such a good girl.” Wanda praised, instantly spotting the way the blood rose up to your cheeks. She had a feeling you’d like it.

Her mouth returned back to your clit, feeling it twitch under her tongue in desperation. She wondered if you were always like this. Always so wet and needy. If you had been this way while she flirted with you, while she talked to you and complimented you, when her hands lingered… She wondered how you held out so long, without begging her to fuck you. But it didn’t matter. She had you now. And she could tell you were getting close again, your fingers had found their way in her hair and you were greedily pulling her closer, back arching with pleasure, your moans growing louder.

“As much as I love to hear you, darling, you have to be quieter. We wouldn’t want you to wake the boys.” Wanda reminded.

Her words made you bite your lower lip, trying to stay quiet while the pressure inside you kept building. Her tongue made circles and figure-eight’s, swirling perfectly and sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Every part of you she touched instantly responded, sending you in a spiral of neediness.

Your hands pulled her impossibly closer, feeling yourself reach the edge. Your back arched and a few strangled pleas’ fell from your lips, before you finally came, your mouth hanging open in a scream that never left your throat.

Wanda helped you ride it out, her tongue never stopping, until the hands that used to pull her closer, started to try and push her away. She did so with a smirk, crawling over your body so she could plant a few soft kisses on your face. She was tempted to keep going, just so she could show you that she decides when you’ve had enough, not you, but knowing what she had in mind for you next, she decided to take pity on you.

She moved off the bed after a minute, instantly seeing the concern in your eyes, when she left you and she smiled gently, before speaking.

“You just lie down and rest, dear. I’ll be right back.” She reassured you, discarding her top and panties and moving quickly and efficiently through the room, opening her special drawer with toys, so she could pull out a harness and her favorite dildo.

She made a show of putting it on in front of you, pulling out a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer and coating the toy with it. Not that you needed it, but she liked to be safe. When she was ready, she stood beside the bed, tall and proud and ready to pounce on you.

“Legs open, darling. Show me that pretty pussy.” Wanda demanded as she stroked her strap suggestively.

You did as you were told, spreading your legs wider than they already were, so you could give her a good view, but it didn’t seem to satisfy her.

“I said, show me your pussy.” She repeated, voice growing stern.

Timidly, a little unsure, you reached down, fingers parting your pussy lips, until you were all on display for her. It felt a little obscene, a little embarrassing too, showing yourself to Wanda in such an intimate way, but she seemed to like it, a pleased smile appearing on her face.

She crawled over the bed, her eyes following the length of your legs, then your thighs, zeroing in on your pussy in a manner that could only be described as predatory. But instead of tearing you apart, she was going to fuck you, until you couldn’t cum anymore.

“Such a pretty thing.” Wanda admired you, her hand reaching out. She dragged a single finger through your wetness, her eyes fixated on yours. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” She suddenly asked. “How many nights I watched you touch yourself and dreamt it could be me. How hard I made myself cum, while you had your legs spread wide, just like this.” She emphasized, by spreading your legs even wider, watching the muscles strain. “But you’re not going to do such things anymore, are you?” She asked, as she started to drag the tip of her fake cock over your slick folds, getting it wet with your juices. ”Once I’m done with you…” She started off, leaning over you, so she could whisper the last of her words directly in your ear. “Nothing will ever be as good.” She promised, guiding the tip of her cock to your opening and pushing inside.

Your hands flew to her back instantly, your big, doe eyes looking up at her, while you nodded your agreement. You could hardly speak, the feeling of your walls parting for her, accepting her eagerly and squeezing around her was so overwhelmingly good, you could hardly even think, let alone process the fact that apparently, she’s been watching your nightly activities. All you wanted was this. For her steady thrusts to never stop, for her lips to keep exploring up and down your neck, planting kisses on every spot they could reach. You could tell she was leaving marks too, hickeys that marked you as hers. It was heavenly. And as her thrusts grew harder, your moans grew louder, your restraint entirely forgotten as you gave yourself completely to the moment.

“You need to be quiet, honey.” Wanda reminded again. “If you can’t keep quiet, I’ll have to gag you.” She warned. It sounded like a threat, but her eyes sparkling with excitement told you otherwise. You could tell she would love to do that and a part of you wanted to know what that would feel like. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you.” She noticed right away, an eyebrow arching up at the idea. “Stick your tongue out.” She demanded, one of her palms reaching up to hold your jaw, while you complied. “That’s right.” She nodded, her thumb running across your lower lip before it disappeared in your mouth. “Suck, baby.” She gasped, already feeling your eager tongue swirl over her digit, your lips closing around it hungrily.

You looked so beautiful like that, so content, so blissfully lost in pleasure. You were sucking on her thumb happily, your hands starting to claw at her back as she kept on thrusting inside you. Your legs had found their way around her too, your whole body pulling her in.

“Such a talented little mouth.” She mused, not missing the small blush that started to form on your cheeks. “I wonder what else you would like to have in there.” She pretended to think. “My nipples, maybe? They’re so sensitive, you know? I bet they’d feel amazing with your lips around them. Or maybe my pussy?” She suggested, feeling you hum happily in agreement. “I bet you love eating pussy.” She said with a smirk. “Maybe I’ll even get you to clean off my strap, when I’m done with you.” Wanda said with a spark in her eye. “Wouldn’t you like that? To suck me off. I’ll even get one of those squirting straps for you next time, so I can give you a treat after.” She thought out loud. “I bet you’d like that very much.”

All you could do was nod, eager to agree. You would love to get to taste her pussy, you would happily suck her off too. Not to mention sucking on her gorgeous nipples… The thought had you reeling. You wondered if perhaps she’d ever let you fall asleep while you sucked on them, all tucked in, with her warm blankets around you and her hot body pressed against you. That would be simply heavenly. But you didn’t dare say a word, too scared that she’ll take her thumb from your mouth and leave it empty, something you didn’t want happening at all. Especially when you felt so full right now. Both your mouth and your pussy were getting filled up by Wanda and each second was getting you closer to yet another climax.

Wanda could feel you get close and the pressure of the harness against her clit was driving her wild with desire, her pussy dripping with arousal. She wanted to come while she fucked you, picturing that she could cum inside you and fill you up. She pictured her fingers playing with the mess she left behind, pushing it all back inside, when it eventually leaks out, overstimulating your pussy. But that didn’t matter. She would make it all better… She just really wanted to be able to get off, while she fucked you, but the pressure of the base of the dildo against clit just wasn’t enough.

As another orgasm crashed through you, you were thankful for the fingers still in your mouth, otherwise you would have screamed, wave after wave of pleasure overwhelming your senses. Nothing had ever felt as good as Wanda’s touch and you were quickly getting addicted to the way she so easily managed to coax you into cumming, no matter how much you had already taken for her.

When you were done, she pulled out, carefully detaching herself from you and tossing the harness on the floor. When she climbed back over you, you thought she’d like to cuddle, or that perhaps she’ll straddle your face, a prospect that had you licking your lips in anticipation, but she straddled you instead, manoeuvring your body until, she could position her pussy on yours.

When her wet pussy first made contact with yours, you squirmed, feeling overstimulated, but Wanda only straddled you more securely, pinning you under her and using her hands to restrain you.

“Oh, don’t try to run from me now…” She said with a smirk, her pussy making contact with yours again. “I made you cum so many times tonight. Are you going to deny me, hm? Are you going to be ungrateful, sweetheart?” She asked, her words condescending and sweet.

You only shook your head, your fingers intertwining with hers in a silent agreement.

“Wouldn’t you like me to eat you instead?” You offered weakly, still hoping to spare yourself.

“No, darling, I want to feel you. I want to come just like this. I’m already close, baby.” She reassured you, even though she didn’t much care if that brought you any solace. “You can take it for me.”

“I can take it.” You nodded, voice strained and so small. She loved it. Loved the prospect of having you utterly spent and exhausted, so she could take care of you.

“That’s right. You just lay there and let me use you. I know you can take it for me.” Wanda confirmed proudly. “You’re such a good girl.” She praised, one of her hands stroking your hair lovingly. “Such a good, sweet girl, taking everything I give you. I’m so proud of you honey.” She murmured sweetly, lulling your brain into a submissive haze.

You hung on to every word she uttered, getting off on the praise and the warmth of her approval, your clit responding with a throb, when she started to rub hers over it. You loved it. The way she looked at you, the way she held you, the way she caressed you, her ministrations purposefully gentle and slow.

You could do nothing but surrender, happy to be used in this way, to see her close her eyes in pleasure as she continued to grind against you. Her breasts hung above you, full and gorgeous and begging for your attention and you lifted your head up, capturing a nipple between your lips and letting your tongue swirl over it.

Wanda’s response was a surprised gasp that quickly turned into a moan, one of her hands cradling your head as she continued to grind her pussy on yours.

“There you go.” She sighed happily. “Keep sucking, baby. You make me feel so good.”

She let you suck and lick over her nipples, loving the content expression she could see on your face as you did it. You looked so blissed out and she knew she could finally focus on getting an orgasm for herself, her hips picking up speed and grinding more firmly against you.

“You feel divine, darling.” She said, as she held you. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard.” She announced. “Don’t stop sucking.” She encouraged, pulling you even closer to herself, her fingers in your hair.

She moaned softly, excitement shooting through her at the thought of just how dirty this was. She had you all pinned underneath her, using your pussy to get off, her juices mixing with your own, while she had you sucking on her nipples.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Wanda gasped, her movements getting more frantic as she chased her high. “Are you going to come with me, baby? I want you to come with me.” She said with a note of urgency.

You tried to say something, your words muffled, as your face was being shoved into Wanda’s perfect tits. A part of you really wanted to come with her, feeling safe and protected in your current position. You felt enveloped by Wanda, by her taste, her scent, her voice, the heat of her body on top of yours. It was perfect really. Then there was the other part of you, that felt utterly fucked out already and entirely unable to take another orgasm. But as soon as you felt her body go rigid, her stuttering thrusts getting erratic and then almost stopping as she came, your body decided for you. You let go, your orgasm crashing over you and making you moan.

Wanda had to fight back a scream as she finally came, her clit twitching and throbbing as it was being rubbed over your own. She couldn’t picture a better way for herself, loving how close you were, how intimate it felt to get off like this. She loved it even more that you came with her.

Your orgasm was much shorter than hers, your whole body utterly spent already, but you held on, taking the overstimulation that sent almost painful jolts through you, and waiting for her to finish, wanting her to enjoy herself as much as she liked.

When she was done, Wanda was kind enough to pull away from your pussy, finally having mercy on you, after she saw the exhausted look on your face.

She stood up briefly, getting you a glass of water and she watched you drink it, before she returned to bed, trying to snuggle you and finally let you rest, but feeling you resist her.

“I didn’t even get to taste you.” You murmured gently, the cutest pout she’d ever seen appearing on your face and making her let out a laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll get to taste my pussy too, baby.” Wanda reassured you. “You’ll get a chance to show me how good you are with your tongue. Now, rest. You’ll need your strength tomorrow.” She whispered in your ear, the arm around you pulling you closer to her.

She watched you fall asleep, eyes sparkling and full of adoration, fingers playing with your hair calmingly, until you fully relaxed in her hold, breathing evening out.

“You’re just perfect, aren’t you.” She spoke softly, memorizing each detail of your face. “All mine now.”

#writing #lesbian #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff smut #bottom!reader #top!wanda #scarlet witch

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cosmerelists · 23 days

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Cosmere Characters: Would They Be Good at Pulling Pranks?

Yesterday was April 1, aka April Fools Day, a holiday that encourages people to pull pranks. So that got me wondering: if such a holiday existed in the Cosmere, would various Cosmere characters be good at this whole "pranking" thing?

1. Syl: Yes, but only of one type

Syl is a prankster in canon: she likes to stick things together! Your shoes to your floor, your hand to your spear, your butt to your chair...so yes, she is great at pranks. I bet if April Fool's Day existed in the Cosmere, she would be an absolute menace.

2. Lopen: Depends on who you ask...

I think Lopen's pranks would be like his jokes: not intended to be mean, but actually kinda mean. In Dawnshard, Lopen came to learn that his jokes were not universally fun and beloved, and I feel like his journey with pranks would necessarily be similar. He'd love pulling them, though!

3. Wayne: Yes, and everyone has fun

Sanderson once said that the difference between Lopen & Wayne is that Wayne can read the room. So I think Wayne would not only like pranks, but would also be more aware of their effect. Like...if Lopen is tying your shoelaces together when you're late for work, Wayne is putting googly eyes (which he invented) on all of your family photos while you're out.

4. Sarene: Yes (mostly against Iadon)

Sarene, Miss Malicious-compliance-and-weaponizer-of-other-people's-misogyny, would love an excuse to "accidentally" prank Iadon. She'd either do really obvious pranks and blame them on feminine confusion ("Oh dear I just wanted to clean but I guess washing your portrait ruined it??") or do really sneaky pranks that no one could trace back to her (cut to Sarene secretly weakening the seams on all of Iadon's clothing so that a good sneeze will make them all fall off).

5. Kaladin: Not anymore

We know that in canon Kaladin pulled pranks as a kid--he told Tien to save a lurg to dump in their dad's bath later. But I feel like nowadays, Kaladin is too gloomy and glowering to pull pranks. He might just enjoy Syl's sometimes though...

6. Steris: Maybe they're just not the most creative...

I think that if a Pranking Holiday existed, Steris would study up and do a textbook prank. Like, she's replacing Wax's sugar bowl with salt, and then he drinks a sip of salty coffee, and then she says, "Ah ha! You have been Pranked per the Social Conventions of today's Holiday!" And Wax would be genuinely delighted.

7. Dalinar: No--not at any point in his life

Blackthorn Dalinar would think a prank is "stabbing a guy in the leg and laughing." Modern-day Dalinar would be puzzled that anyone actually does pranks--aren't they, you know, kinda beneath you? The Codes would DEFINITELY not allow them.

8. Sigzil: No, too much paperwork

The Prank Authorization Form is 7 pages and takes 5 weeks for review and approval. Who has that kind of time???

9. Lift: Yes, absolutely

I can see Lift positioning buckets of water over, like, Dalinar's door or slicking the floor right as that merchant she saw yelling at kids walks by. Now--imagine Lift & Syl going on a prank spree together. You're welcome.

10. Hoid: Nobody knows

Hoid put paperclips in the pockets of every single one of Elhokar's outfits. He put edible glitter into Rock's stew, turning it into Glitter Stew. He found one of Kaladin's buttons on the ground and straight-up ate it while making direct eye contact.

But...were any of those things pranks? Were they plots? Were they just Hoid being Wit?

Nobody knows.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Syl #Lopen #Wayne #Sarene #Hoid #Kaladin #Lift #Sigzil #Dalinar #Steris

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stabortega · 6 months

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NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER 03

Summary: Jenna's need to find out who you really are is prevailing, so is her arousal.

Pairings: Jenna Ortega x G!P!Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Smut. Mentions of sex and kinks. Sexting, masturbation, voyeurism. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's note: Sorry to keep you guys waiting. I hope it was worth it, huh? Let me know what you think!

MASTERLIST!

(Y/N)xz: hey

(Y/N)xz: i'm so glad you decided to take up my offer

jenna2709: really?

(Y/N)xz: yeah

(Y/N)xz: i honestly thought you wouldn't say yes

jenna2709: i had to.

jenna2709: getting a private livestream from you isn't something you can get everyday.

(Y/N)xz: i can see you're very excited for that

jenna2709: i am.

jenna2709: what about you?

(Y/N)xz: counting the days

(Y/N)xz: wanted to see your face for quite sometime now

jenna2709: you've at least imagined what i look like by now, right?

(Y/N)xz: a little

(Y/N)xz: also the fact that i can only think about my coworker's face when i think of you it's a little bit strange

jenna2709: oh, why is that?

(Y/N)xz: it's because you guys have the same name

(Y/N)xz: which is weird because i see her everyday and we never even really talked

(Y/N)xz: maybe it's because she is the only jenna i know

(Y/N)xz: was*

(Y/N)xz: now i know you :)

jenna2709: i hope she's pretty enough for you.

jenna2709: i want you to imagine me as some pretty girl.

(Y/N)xz: she's gorgeous

(Y/N)xz: bet you're more, though

jenna2709: guess you'll find out soon enough.

"Okay, now you're being straight up mean." Jasmine said while eating a piece of her spring salad, while looking at her friend. "You said you're showing her your face and now you're suddenly giving up?"

"I'm not giving up, Jasmine. It's just, I don't know why I agreed." Jenna sighed, while trying to distract herself reading a couple of lines from her script. "And now she's gonna know who I am and she's gonna be so embarrassed. Fuck, it's gonna be so freaking awkward. I'm working with her every single day."

"How are you so sure they are the same person? Just because of a scar? Millions of people have scars." Jasmine said, which made Jenna wonder for a while: What if she was, in fact, losing her goddamn mind and they weren't the same person?

"No, I just remembered. They have the same voice, as well. I'm 99% sure." The younger actress would never admit it, but she was so afraid of that 1%. "And also, she has a few tattoos. If only I could at least see if she has those tattoos. But she's always wearing long sleeves, fuck. I'm definitely not gonna do that video call and that's final."

"You're being a chicken and you know it. What's the worse that can happen? If anything, you'll end up sucking her dick right on that nasty green couch in the break room." Jasmine felt a slap right on her left arm. "Hey! It's not like you're not gonna enjoy it! You seem like one of those kinky ass chicks who no one thinks that are actually kinky."

"Oh please, you should've seen her kink list from her profile." Jenna immediately regretted saying that. Mental note: Think about everything you're gonna say to Jasmine.

"Wait, what?!"

"Breeding, breath play, knife play- Oh fuck, she's crazy. Run. Run for your life! Run for the hills!" They laughed, while Jenna tried her best to hide her embarrassment. "Holy shit, she's that kinky. How the fuck do they have that?"

"When you sign up, you have to fill out your kink list. I thought you also had an account, dingus."

"I do, dingus, but the kink list is not mandatory." Jasmine stopped for awhile, until she thought for one second. "God, you filled yours?!"

"Give me my phone now." Jenna said, trying to look angry while Jasmine got up from the chair and started to run away with the latina's phone in her hand, trying to search the list on Jenna's profile.

"I have the power in my hands!" Jasmine and Jenna didn't knew how, but they ran until the parking lot, looking like two little sisters having an argument over a toy. "Girl, you're into that?" The black girl said, while laughing, which made Jenna angrier.

Before the younger one could even respond to that, she felt a body crash against hers, making her almost fall over to the floor, but thankfully her body was held in time to prevent that from happening. "Hey, are you alright?"

Fuck, it was you.

"Yeah, I'm sorry... Jasmine- She had- " Jenna tried to speak but ended up mumbling all of the words. The way your strong arms held her, your woody perfume which she swore it was the best scent she has ever smelled in her life, your face looking at her as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

"Don't worry about that, just try to be careful next time, okay?" You almost were talking down to her, as if she was a little kid, which was something that would immediately make Jenna hate you. Since she started working as a child, having people treat her as one made her blood boil. But no, not this time. "I was actually looking for you."

"Really?" Jenna said, after recomposing herself, her worries about her phone were long gone. Jasmine could see her nude pics, for all she cared. All she could think about was the fact that you were looking for her.

"Yeah, I kinda needed to adjust some of the camera's settings before we start shooting." Oh, okay. At least she thought about me first, she considered. "You know, saturation, contrast and stuff. Need to do with the whole cast, actually." She knew what it was, she had to do that at least, a hundred times over the course of her career. But god, you looked so cute while explaining it.

"Yeah, yeah, we can do that. I just need to get my phone and I'll be there." Jenna said, trying to seem as casual as possible, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for god knows whatever reason.

"Alright, I'll be at stage 5. And try to not run like that again, okay? You could really get hurt." You smiled sympathetically to her, it wasn't visible to you but Jenna's heart was fluttering as if she was a teenage girl who just spoke to the most popular boy at school.

"Yeah, sure... I'll be careful, totally." She smiled back, before watching you leave, her legs almost giving up on her before hearing Jasmine's voice behind her, driving her out of her thoughts.

"Oh, (Y/N), I'll be careful, I swear! I'll promise I will never ever fall again, unless you're here to hold me in your arms, oh god!" Jenna rolled her eyes, jokingly, while snatching her phone away from Jasmine's hands. "I mean it, either she's the most oblivious person on the planet or you just straight up told her you want her P in your V with your body language."

"It wasn't that obvious, Jasmine. You're being too much."

"Girl, the tension was almost palpable. Please hope that she's stupid enough to let this pass. What were you guys talking about, anyways?"

"She wants to adjust some of the camera's colour settings and needs me to be there. And also the entire cast, as well. But she asked me first, that must be something right?"

"Literally nothing, Jenna." The latina rolled her eyes, ignoring her friend. "But still, you can use that opportunity to figure out if she's really the chick from the website. Try to find out if she has those tattoos you saw on the livestream."

"Thankfully you had a good idea, for once."

"And if she's really her, you can suck on her balls without feeling guilty."

"You're not helping." Jenna sighed, running her hands through her hair. "I'm gonna kill myself tonight."

"For a girl with a pussy like yours, that would be a waste."

"You'd seen my pictures?!" Jenna looked at her friend furiously, wide-eyed.

"Oh my god I was joking, do you really have pussy pics?!"

"I hate you!" She almost screamed before leaving a laughing Jasmine behind. Jenna was nervous, of course. You guys started filming this week, and throughout the entire period you guys were there, she tried her best to avoid you due to the fact that she was, actually, a chicken. You guys didn't even spoke much, that only one occasion a couple of moments ago being the first real conversation you guys had. Just, being around you made her nervous. And it wasn't even because of the streams she's been watching. It's just, you're you. Your body language, your voice, the way you act around set, you seem so freaking professional and Jenna was a sucker for that. The way you dressed, the way you took care of everyone who worked with you. She has been with her eye on you every day ever since she met you, and she's been watching you very closely. Everything about you drove Jenna insane, and surprisingly, she liked that.

After a couple of minutes walking through set, with her hands sweating and lots of heavy breathing, she finally made it into stage 5. You were there with a couple of people from production; some of them working on their own stuff, and a couple of guys talking about you while you held one of the cameras that would be used through filming. You were laughing a bit, something that made Jenna's heart flutter. Damn it.

"Yeah, and he was the kind of guy who wouldn't - Oh, hey Jenna! Talk to you guys later, okay?" You politely dismissed the guys you were talking to as soon as you saw Jenna enter your field of vision. Fuck, why did you have to be so well mannered? "Are you ready to look at me for a couple of hours?"

"I'm- I-" Jenna stuttered, making you laugh a little bit. She was being kinda cute, you thought.

"Relax, I'm joking. It'll be only a couple of minutes. I promise you don't have to get stuck with me for more than that." But I would definitely like to, Jenna thought to herself. "Can you stand on that mark for me, please?" Oh, she would do anything for you if you asked her like that again. So she stood on that mark, five feet away from you, while you put the camera on the tripod, already connected to the monitors and software responsible for editing. Jenna looked straight at the lenses, but thankfully she got to look at you while you set things up, and oh god you were a sight for sore eyes.

"Okay, can you look at the little red dot for me, please?" She almost hated you for being so polite, and obviously did what you asked. You would never admit that in front of anyone, but Jenna was truly one of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen. Looking at her through the lenses was definitely the best part of this job.

"So, you've been working with this for a while?" Jenna said, wanting to start some small talk in order to find out more about you (and your tattoos, obviously).

"Um, not really. I finished college a couple of months ago, this is my first real job as a videographer. Dave was nice enough to put me under his wing and be my mentor, actually." You said while pressing some buttons on the camera and typing on the keyboard under the monitors. "I've worked in movie sets while in college, but mostly I just held microphones and cleaned camera lenses."

"For someone who already graduated, you seem really young. How old are you?" Jenna couldn't remember if your profile said you were twenty-three or twenty-four.

"Oh, thanks. You don't look so bad yourself, either." Jenna really hoped you were flirting with her (deep down, she kinda knew you weren't). "I'm twenty-four, actually."

"Really? You look really young." Jenna smiled slightly, secretly looking at you while you were pressing more buttons which she wouldn't even bother knowing what they did. "I get that a lot, too. I'm only twenty-one, but people think I'm seventeen most of the times."

"That must be annoying, huh?" You looked at her face through the lenses again, the adjusted lighting making her look more beautiful that she already was, if that's possible.

"Oh, you have no idea. I'm almost getting a tattoo on my forehead that says 'No longer a minor'." You both laughed for a moment. "Do you have any?"

"Tattoos? Yeah, just a couple." Fuck, she was close. She just needed to see one of them.

"Do they hurt a lot? I wanted to get one but I'm kinda scared." She wasn't.

"Yeah, a little. Nothing you can't handle." You stopped doing what you were doing to come a bit closer, which made the latina hold her breath for a second. "This one was the worst, definitely."

You lift up the hem of your shirt just a little, but enough for Jenna to see your slightly muscular v-line. Oh fuck, she felt like passing out. Until you showed her your tattoo, it was a roman number that Jenna couldn't even bother to figure out what it meant, but one thing was for sure: it was the same tattoo she had seen on the streams.

"That's cute..." She tried her best not to sound suspicious. You smiled and started to get back behind the camera.

"That one hurt like a bitch, I swear." You laughed a bit, before pressing the final buttons on the camera. "I think we're done! Can I take a video of you to see if the settings worked out?" Jenna only could nod, the thought of having you abdomen close to her mouth and not being able to lick it was the most traumatic experience of her life. "Okay, can you smile for me?"

And like the whipped bitch she was, she happily did. You shot the video for a couple of seconds and saved it, looking at it for a bit before gazing at the girl again. "Okay, that's pretty much it. Thank you for coming here, yeah?"

"Sure, no problem." She was almost shaking, she hated the fact you were such a sweetheart while at work, and at the website you acted like the lesbian version of Magic Mike. So, she left. Regretting the fact she didn't even made her move because being around you was intimidating enough to keep her from breathing properly, but at least she did what she was there to do: she knew, for sure, that you were the person she thought you were. And now, she had another issue to deal with.

Thankfully, you guys scheduled the video chat for tomorrow. Jenna knew that today she wasn't ready to reveal her face to the person who's been occupying her thoughts for the past few days. So, she did what she's been religiously doing for the past week. Locked her hotel room door, put her headphones on and relaxed while watching your stream. Only god knows how much she missed watching you stroke your cock while moaning softly and talking the filthiest shit ever. Jenna turned on her laptop and went on the website, which by now was marked as her favorite, and as usual, you were already there.

This time around, Jenna just wanted to enjoy watching you. No games or teasing, she genuinely wanted to look at you while you pleased yourself in front of her.

"Hey guys, how are y'all doing? Hope y'all are doing great." Even now, you were the most polite person ever. Fuck, she hated that. And you. She hated you. Definitely despised you.

You interacted with the chat for a couple of minutes, before really starting to put on your show. Obviously you knew "jenna2709" was watching, and now, even though you would never admit it, you liked putting your show to her, and only her. So now, you were dedicated to deliver the best show you could ever do. "I'm gonna try something different today, if you guys don't mind. But I'm sure you guys are gonna love it as much as I am."

Your hardened cock was already starting to pulse in your pants, so you were quick enough to unbutton your jeans and let your member spring free. Jenna's mouth watered at the sight of your throbbing cock, making her wish she could lick all of your pre-cum off of your tip.

For all these days Jenna's been watching you, she has never touched herself while you were streaming. Mainly because she was scared that once she did, she wouldn't be able to look at your face again out of embarrassment. But it seemed that every stream that she's watched, it got harder and harder to maintain her posture.

Jenna looked at you while you slowly stroked your dick, which started to made her anxious. She knew you had to tease in order to keep your viewers watching (which is why Jenna was the one emptying her bank account to you so you could cum faster). That same odd feeling on the pit of her stomach started to become more and more present, and she hated the fact the she couldn't just cave in and thrust two fingers inside of her aching cunt. You drove her out of her thoughts when you grabbed something from behind your camera, which made Jenna curious to what it was, exactly. And then she realized it was a tiny silicone ass toy, with an small opening right at the vagina. Oh, fuck.

"Do you guys ever think about someone while jacking off or is it just me?" You asked your viewers while putting a litte bit of lube on the toy. You would never admit this on camera, but you obviously were talking about Jenna. Not Jenna, your coworker, of course. But there was something about Jenna, your viewer, that made you intrigued: you didn't even knew what she look like, but all of the conversations you had in this past week made you wonder who was she, and what she was doing watch you religiously every night? What was it about you that made her so committed? The was she spoke to you in your chat, the way she tipped you just so you could cum for her, and her only. It's safe to say that, even without knowing what her face looked like (and trying your best not to think about Jenna, your coworker, because they shared the same name, of course), you started to think about her in those extremely intimate moments.

"So you got someone on your mind now, huh?" One of the viewers asked in the chat, which made Jenna anxious for the answer. If you were thinking about someone else, she would definitely want to know who it was.

"Yes and no. Maybe if I knew how she looked like, exactly, then she would 100% be occupying my head." You laughed a bit. Thank god your viewers couldn't see your face, because it was flushed red from embarrassment. You shrugged it off and started to tease the tip of your cock right onto the toy's pussy, wanting to get your viewers more excited. Which, of course, worked every single time.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $300 with the message: you know i hate it when you tease.

"I know you do, baby. That's why it's so fun." You laughed again, holding your cock by the base while still rubbing your tip onto the toy. Little did Jenna knew, but deep down, you were teasing just to get her attention.

jenna2709: what's the fun of being an annoying tease, huh?

"Being able to frustrate you." Jenna sighed. Oh, you were a demon. How could someone that was so polite and well mannered at work, behaved like this when the night came? "Come on, we both know that you enjoy this."

jenna2709: more than i care to admit.

"Alright, I'll stop being mean, okay? Let me give you what you've been waiting for, baby." You slowly penetrated your dick into the toy, which immediately made you drag out a raspy and low moan. The tightness of the toy was beginning to drive you insane, and for a brief second you wished you had Jenna's pussy around your cock, instead of a fake silicone one.

"Fuck." Jenna whispered to herself, feeling her underwear getting ruined for the fifth time this week. She felt her clit throb and pulse, it was incredible that you didn't even had to do anything huge to get Jenna turned on, just by breathing you aroused the shit out of her. "No. Pull yourself together."

jenna2709: i would kill someone to be in this toy's place.

"And I would kill someone to have you right here, right now." You started to slowly thrust your member inside of the tight, yet slightly slippery toy, your moaning now becoming louder and louder. Thankfully the hotel doors weren't thin enough, so you could be considerably loud without worrying about other people in the floor. Unbeknownst to you, "jenna2709" was just down the hallway watching you, in the verge of tears trying her best not to succumb to her primal desires and touch herself. "Fuck, this feels so good..."

jenna2709: you're making it impossible for me to not touch myself.

"Why don't you, baby? Maybe we get to cum together this time around, huh?" That seemed like an irresistible offer that Jenna really, really wanted to accept and decline, at the same time. For some reason, you figured that she was depriving herself of something good and a part of you wanted to just leave it that way, maybe she had her own reasons to just stand still while watching your streams. But another part of you really wanted to have some fun with this. So, like the devil you and Jenna knew you were, you licked your thumb and started to make circular motions over the toy's clit, while thrusting your cock steadily inside of it. "Don't you wish I was doing that to you?"

"Oh my fucking god." Jenna couldn't hold it in anymore. She tried, god, she really tried. But it was too much, even for her. Without thinking about the day after, she pulled down her pants alongside with her underwear and finally decided to give her pussy some attention. She was dripping wet, not ironically wetting her sheets in the process, but she wasn't even paying attention to those details. The only thing she cared enough to do was to thrust one finger inside her throbbing, aching cunt. Which, of course, she did. And the immediate feeling of relief took over her entire body the minute she felt her finger inside of her. Jenna felt dirty, as she was the pastor's daughter in a small town who just met an outlaw that tricked her into all those things. But damn, it felt good to be dirty and tricked. She started to thrust slowly, giving the fact she didn't masturbated often and she was just getting used to the feeling of her own finger inside her tight pussy. But, for some reason and for the first time, it wasn't enough. She needed more, and she wanted more. Fuck, she just wanted you.

"God, this is so fucking tight..." You moaned, more to yourself than to your stream, which drove Jenna out of her thoughts. She looked at you, fucking that toy while sweat was dripping off your body, and your low moaning was captured through your microphone. You were the hottest person she has ever met in her entire life.

jenna2709: you were right, maybe this time around we do get to cum together.

Jenna typed, without feeling anxious or nervous like the previous times. She couldn't give a rat's ass anymore. She already touched herself, she gave you money for every little thing you did on stream, so why even bother? It felt good. Fuck, it felt so good and she didn't even knew why she deprived herself from that for so long. So, without thinking about it, she added a second finger inside of her, hoping it would fulfill her needs just as you would.

"Maybe next time, I get to cum in you." You were bold for saying that. But in your head, after your guys' private stream, you were both gonna fall madly in love and have a relationship that seemed right out of a movie screen. The last thing you would think about is the fact that the girl you've been thinking about for fhe past few days is, in fact, one of the actresses of a movie you're helping to produce. And one of the world's most famous and extraordinary actresses, actually. "And we both know how much you would enjoy that."

At that point, Jenna was the only one there, for all you cared. I mean, you had almost 2k people who watched you every single day, but sometimes it felt like you and her were the only ones existing in the world. I mean, your chat didn't seemed to mind, most of them were just voyeurs who got off by watching random people online, so what's the harm?

Unbeknownst to Jenna, you were already close to your orgasm. The tightness of the toy and all of the dirty talking you both have been sharing, it was getting pretty hard to hold it in any longer. So, without further notice, you decided to violently thrust your throbbing member inside of that silicone pussy, wanting to get to your high as quickly as possible. You slapped the toy's ass a couple of times, but you knew that if that was a real person (Jenna, you wanted it to be Jenna), you would be saying the most filthy things on her ear while slapping her ass until it became bruised. It killed you not being able to do that. And it killed Jenna too.

jenna2709: fuck, you look so beautiful like this.

And she wasn't any different either. Her hand was soaked by now and the two fingers weren't even close to being enough for her, but for now, they would have to do. With her spare hand, Jenna cupped one of her breasts in order to get closer and closer to her high, while her hand just aggressively thrusted inside of her tight hole. "F-Fuck, I'm almost..."

And you were almost there too, but this time, you wanted to make sure to give Jenna the best experience she could ever get. "Tell me, where do want me to cum?" You asked the whole chat, but in a way, you only wanted to hear Jenna's answer. The chat filled itself with loads of messages, some people wanting for you to come inside, other wanting for you to cum on your stomach.

jenna2709: inside of my pussy, please.

"Your wish is my command." And so you did, you came right into that toy's cunt with a loud and dragged moan, closing your eyes and thinking about how it would feel if you actually came inside of Jenna. You felt your hips spasm into the toy, while you rode out your high and tried your best not to moan any louder than you already did. Little did you know that, down the hallway, Jenna was also having her orgasm just by looking at you. She closed her eyes and thursted the hardest she could until she finally came, with a soft whimper of your name, feeling her juices oozing out of her cunt. She felt one or two tears stream down her face from that overwhelming feeling, riding out her high while looking at you, wishing you were there beside her. You pulled your cock out of that toy, your thick cum dripping down to the floor which made Jenna's mouth water again. She would commit crimes just to be able to lick your cum out of that toy.

And now, Jenna felt embarrassed again. Tomorrow at work, she would have to look at your face and act normally all over again, trying to hide the fact that you were the reason she had a mind blowing orgasm and cried while moaning your name. And also, she would have to think of a way to dodge your private stream, or face her fears and reveal her identity, risking to ruin your work environment for all of the next months that you guys would work together. Either way, she didn't wanted to do any of those two things.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $1000 with the message: consider this as a thank you.

#scream #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #scream movies #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x you #you #the fallout #wednesday #wlw post #wlw love #wlw #wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw

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okchijt · 19 days

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hii! could u separate headcanons of Yandere! Alastor and Vox x Male Overlord! Reader who never smiles (very rarely) , isn't very chatty and doesn't really like dance and sing?

Author's Note: Thank you so much Anon for the request! Decided to write this as soon as it came cause I finished the show a few weeks ago and still have the brainrot. The request asks for a male reader and the title also says it, but you can easily read it as gender-neutral as well since I don't think that what I write is that gender-specific to the request to matter aside from like two gender-specific words I use but you can easily ignore them if you want. And lastly, go ahead and check out my masterlist if you like what you just read and if you want to request anything yourself, thank you, and enjoy!🩷

Yandere Alastor x Male Overlord Reader Headcanons

📻 Smilling is Alastor's whole thing, and even though he doesn't care if others smile or not, but as his Darling, he seems to care quite a lot! He's not that vocal about it though, only making a slight comment here and there: "You're never fully dressed without a smile!" or "A smile makes all the difference!" All to try and make you smile more. I imagine he says the same speech he did to Charlie, that a smile can be anything you want it to be and the effect it has on others.

📻 When all else fails he'd use his wits and puns to get a smile out of you, and when you finally do smile on occasion Alastor is over the moon. It's a huge success in his book, he'd immediately praise how lovely that smile looks on your face and he'd pat your head or back approvingly as well.

📻 Since you're on Overlord yourself Alastor feels nothing but respect for you. If you were a simple sinner he'd feel superior despite you being his Darling. But in this case, you're on the same level if not stronger than him so that just gives him more of a reason to make you smile, anything to get your approval, it's the only one he needs or cares for anyway. In this case, you letting him stay by your side only fuels his ego because it's a pleasure only he gets to have and no one else. You're his and he has no intentions of sharing you with anyone, he's fiercely protective and possessive over you and that includes your smile. Only he gets to see and experience your purest form, sinners would rather make a deal than die by his hand just because they saw something they shouldn't.

📻 Alastor is more than fine with having a non-chatty Darling, he doesn't speak unless he has to so he can relate to you. That said, he's only okay with it when you're quiet to everyone else but him. After all, he's only this close to you so shouldn't he earn the pleasure of hearing your voice? He'd push you for a conversation sometimes, asking you questions or just string up a conversation to the point where you're forced to respond. The longer you keep quiet the more irritated and persistent he'll become, so it's better to start sooner or later if you don't want to see Alastor slowly lose himself.

📻 Although there's no official answer to whether Alastor likes to sing or dance, I have my personal thoughts on that so I'll use them here. I think Alastor likes dancing, with a specific person that is, that being you. You won't catch him on the dancefloor with anyone but you. Though because you ain't that much of a dancer, and unlike the smile thing Alastor doesn't really mind. He is forceful with everyone else as we saw in the show, but as his Darling and fellow Overlord, he has too much respect for you to push you to do something against your will. Though if you would ever agree to dance with him, he'd be really respectful and make sure you enjoy yourself so that he'll have a chance at another dance next time. Also, you always only dance to jazz or swing music, that's one thing Alastor will always put his foot down on.

📻 Singing is the second thing Alastor would take the most seriously after smiling when it comes to his Darling. Singing is one of those things that lets you express yourself, you can show any emotion by it. Even though Alastor had like four songs in the show, I feel like he only sings when he has to, always to make himself look good or to be on the winning side. So I feel like Alastor would be a little disappointed if you chose to solve problems like a normal person instead of having a rap battle with someone. Though I feel like that's a subject he won't push on about too much despite his feelings, he'll only allude to it from time to time.

📻 Overall, the only issue Alastor would have with a Darling like that is him not smiling, but that's about it. It's the only thing he'd be aggressively vocal about and sometimes the singing one. Otherwise, he tolerates everything else about you. All Alastor needs is to have you all to himself and if it means he's the only one to witness you do any of those stuff in private, how can he complain? He much rather prefers that scenario anyway, you're his after all.

Yandere Vox x Male Overlord Reader Headcanons

📺 Unlike Alastor, Vox doesn't put that much importance on smiling like his rival, but he still views it as useful. He's a public-based Overlord, so a smile is always important to have when trying to sell his brand. You can be a part of the Vee's or not, you're still an Overlord that is either on his level or stronger, so Vox is bewildered how you don't even try to smile when talking to those below you to win them over.

📺 He'd try to explain to you how much more influence and power you could have with a smile alone: "Smile, and they'll know who's in charge here!'' or ''It's the best way to win the public's adoration!'' He just wants you to present yourself the same way he does. He'd be really disappointed if you continued to refuse his idea, but once you smiled at something he said in private, it made him stop and think. It made him realize that something so alluring should be for his eyes only, he should be the only one to enjoy such a sight and no one else. He'd always whisper sweet nothing into your ear whenever he catches you smiling, hoping it'll encourage you to smile more. It fuels him and he'd do anything to get you to smile like that again for him.

📺 As a fellow Overlord, he respects you a ton, especially if you're a part of the Vee's with him. Because you're so different from the typical Overlord he surrounds himself with, he's much more wary of how he approaches you in fear of setting you off. He wants you to adore him the same way he does you and he'll try to achieve that by treating you like the King you are. Anything you say goes and even when he tries to push some issues forward, as his Darling you're the only one that can shut him down.

📺 Though Vox would prefer if you were a bit more chatty for the sake of the brand and all that, he won't really say anything to you about it. Your presence is enough to either win other sinners over or scare all the threats away. Kinda like Alastor, in private Vox will be very chatty with you, you're his Darling so he only feels safe enough with you to spill all of his thoughts out. But unlike his rival, Vox won't push or force you to respond, he's more than okay with you just being silent as he talks, it's therapeutic in a way. Though he'd always encourage you to talk some more if you do eventually say something, your voice just makes him so happy. He'll stop whatever he was doing just to focus all of his attention on you as you talk, but if you stop that's okay, he's already satisfied to hear his Darling talk even if just a little.

📺 Vox ain't that much of a dancer, he's pretty stiff actually, so he's both glad and bothered by the fact that you aren't. Good for him cause you don't pressure or force him to do something he knows he's bad at and embarrass himself in front of you, unlike a certain moth. But at the same time, he'd want to see you dance, he wouldn't care how good you would be at it, you're his Darling so he'd still think you're brilliant regardless! He won't ever push you to do it though, taking how he feels about it he won't force you into something he knows he wouldn't like doing himself.

📺 Singing is what Vox makes up for not being able to dance, he's a good singer and he knows it, though you're the only one who he'd sing to willingly. He'll sing to you in private all the time, wanting to charm you and make you weak for him just like how weak he is for you. But it's the same thing as with dancing, he would love to hear you sing for him, about anything really, but again, he won't force you to do it. Sometimes he'd sing a song that requires a duet to see if you'll budge. Unfortunately for him, you don't, but he won't say anything, he adores you regardless.

📺 Seems like Vox shares a similar issue with his rival, his one problem is you not wanting to smile more. Outside of that he sometimes gently tries to persuade you into singing or smiling for him, but won't push the issue onward if he faces rejection for his request. Vox is more than satisfied knowing you'd sometimes budge in private for him, that's all he really needs and craves really. Him being the only one to witness his Darling doing any of those things makes his ego only grow, because it's his privilege alone and no one else's. And it'll stay that way no matter what.

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supersoakerfullofblood · 2 months

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Why You Shouldn't Care About Theme (as a writer)

"Theme" is another word like "worldbuilding" and "plot hole" that writers put way too much stock into without clear definition. It's often thought to be one of the most important things in your story, one of the defining traits of creative writing, but it can be hard to pin down, and some pervasive definitions are actively harmful to the writing process. Let's talk about that.

A common misconception about theme is that it's the story's "message." Under this definition, a theme of The Great Gatsby would be that generation wealth is a hollow substitute for genuine human enrichment, love, etc. A theme of Hamlet would be to not kill yourself. But this idea of a book's message misses the point of why we read at all. Reading is a relationship between the author and the reader; to interpret text, the author puts their experiences in writing, and you bring your experiences to its reading. In other words, you as the reader create meaning from a story. You give the story its messages. The author's only purpose is to transcribe their worldview and experiences, and the best authors can sway the empathy of the reader towards those experiences. Anything greater than this, any book that moralizes, preaches, dictates, is gaudy, emotional propaganda. Imagine a novel where throughout the book, the author is telling you about the toxic environmental effects of unwalkable cities. While true, narrative fiction is a realm of characters and story, not essays. Readers pull meaning from a novel because they think and feel about a character's struggle and relate it to their own. So a message about The Great Gatsby is that generation wealth is hollow because we as readers live in an age of unprecedented wealth disparity; a message about Hamlet is to not kill yourself because we as readers have felt pretty down in the dumps sometimes and have maybe thought about suicide. But our experiences could be different: if we're generationally wealthy, we might read Gatsby as a celebration; if we have an awful stepfather, we might read Hamlet first as a story of revenge than of introspection. Strong authors make you sympathize with the experiences they've gone through--Fitzgerald himself was a wealthy, popular man and saw firsthand the effects of wealth, and Shakespeare probably felt rough around the emotional edges at times--but ultimately, deciding a text's "messages" is up to the reader.

So if we can't control the messages of our writing, what is theme? I like to think of it as "whatever a text is about," and that about word carries some ambiguity. Is Gatsby about money? Yes, but there's more to that. You can think right now about a plot element your WIP is about, but as authors, we want to find that greater depth. That's what we call theme.

Common writing advice tells you to plot out your theme, that greater depth, before drafting the novel. Figure out that Gatsby is a story about generational wealth being a hollow substitute for romance before anything else. But when you think about it, this is crazy advice. Themes like this can only come from our characters and how they interact with the world, and how our characters act is always going to stray in some way away from our plans for them. Writing that deeper theme, then, is impossible to plan (unless you're the most extreme plotter and have found success like that, then keep doing what you're doing. But you reading this almost certainly are not in that camp, let's be honest). So how do we get there?

Before you start drafting, think about the surface-level "abouts." Don't go deep yet. Just think about what's pressing on your mind. If you want to take a very slight moralistic bent here, do so, but be sure not to go into specifics (that's for the characters to do). For my first novel, I wanted to write about friendship responsibilities, family responsibilities, and friendship; for my second novel, church camp, romance, and evangelical culture; for my current novel, the role of story in culture, honor, familial trauma, and cultural perceptions of gender. Some of these took on moral detail--evangelical culture is bad--but most didn't. As you're writing, your characters will discover that deeper meaning. Again, your characters have to and will by nature of being part of the narrative. Your readers interact with the story, not with you.

In my first novel, I came to the thematic conclusion that too many responsibilities degrade individual identity, but too few leave someone empty; in the second novel, I concluded that evangelical culture places restrictive boxes on what romance looks like, and on how to interact with and resolve traumatic events. But I didn't come up with these--my characters did, and I learned from them in the exact same way any reader would. Similarly, a reader might interact with my characters and come to completely different conclusions. This is normal, okay, and encouraged.

You may also find other themes popping up as you write. In my second novel, popularity and social capital became a huge cog in the machine. Let these fresh themes surprise you, and run with them.

Ultimately, you can't control what your readers take away from your story. Your goal as a writer is to create characters so rich and deep and intimate (not in the romantic sense, unless you're into that) that the reader can bring their experiences to the text and find meaning. We cannot worry about this before starting a writing project, because we can't control it, and thinking too much about it will muddy the waters of what actually matters, what we can affect. And when you start to sense those deeper meanings emerging in your story, run with them, flesh them out, and embody them in the struggles of characters.

#writeblr #writing #writing advice #writing questions #fanfic #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writer #bookblr #booklr #reading

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yaoyaobae · 1 year

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Hello everyone! Thank you so much for following me, its my first time sharing about my twst ocs so I’ll give it a shot ✊

Warning: Hallucinations 🙇‍♀️

Alison Wondre

School: Royal Sword Academy

Favourite food: Cookies

Pastime: Reading children’s books, Daydreaming

Family: Mother, Father, Older sister

Role: Head of Alice/Wonderland dorm

Alison is a second year student at RSA and dorm head. Unlike Riddle who upholds rules, Alison is the polar opposite of him in every way.

Alison adopts a carefree and playful attitude, he enjoys teasing uptight people until they blow (like Riddle).

He tends to mention strange things like how he saw some singing flowers the other day or his craving to take a bite out of a bread-and-butter-fly. From the way he dresses to his wild, childish imagination its no surprise that many students believe he’s gone mad. But it is agreeably fitting for someone who is head of the Alice/Wonderland dorm.

Backstory:

Alison has an older sister whom he adores greatly and spends most of his time with. When he was a young boy, he didn’t listen to his sister’s heeding to not stray off from the path and ended up falling into a deep hole in a forest. He slowly started hallucinating monsters and cried himself to sleep, wishing he had listened to his sister. Thankfully, the authorities found him a few days later and he was sent to a hospital.

However, it was clear that Alison became an entirely different person after the incident. He began telling his sister stories about funny creatures he had met during his “adventure” which was rather worrying to her. While Alison was in the hospital for a few months,he picked up several children’s picture books which he still brings around with him in school till this day. As he grew older his imagination became wilder as he forgets the fine line between reality and his “wonderland”. He takes afternoon naps to “meet his friends”. Its a given rule to never wake him up.

Of course despite his eccentric character, Alison is still a caring and reliable leader when he needs to be(just that he conveys it in his own ways). He will not hesitate to listen to a fellow dorm mate’s worries and give vague advice, hoping they can figure out the riddle. He encourages them to “stay curiouser and curiouser” as life becomes a little more colourful that way when you experience new things. When it comes to thinking out of the box, no one can beat Alison to it.

Relationships

Riddle

Alison finds joy in teasing serious individuals, namely Riddle, until they throw a tantrum. He doesn’t mind getting the magic collar so as long as he can poke fun at the red haired queen. In serious situation, Alison would cooperate with Riddle and provide creative solutions.

If both of them share a similarity, it would be the fear of being held back and stuck in a dark place alone. Like Riddle who grew up having to follow his mother’s rules and forbidden to see his friends, Alison can somewhat share the same pain as he is still afraid of not waking up and/or seeing his sister again because of his ignorance in the past.

Chenya

Alison is generally carefree around others, but when it comes to this cunning cheshire cat he will not waste a single second to curse him. Many students find it strange how two eccentrics from the same dorm can never get along. Alison finds Chenya a nuisance who disrupts his afternoon naps, often pestering him. In addition, Chenya always gives Alison close-to-useless advice even when the latter didn’t ask for any. Guess its like a taste of his own medicine 😂

While the two do not get along, they are always seen together in school bickering nonsense. Sometimes Chenya would purposely wake Alison up from his nap to share about the strawberry tart he stole from his two childhood friends, the sleepy blonde would just doze off back to dreamland while nodding his head.

End

Well, I think that is all I can share about Alison! I hope you will like him too, thank you to those who have loved him since the beginning!! Talking about my children is fun ☺️

Until next time!

#twisted wonderland #twisted oc #twst oc #Alison Wondre #yaoyao_twstoc

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futuremrsreid · 1 year

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Watching (S.R)

Summary: Spencer sleeps over at y/n's place and hears something he isn't supposed to.

Content Warnings: 18+, SMUT, downright filthy smut, voyeurism, dubious consent, humiliation, basically reader is wanking and spencer watches without her knowing

Authors Note: I am obsessed with writing morally wrong fics, but I guess this isn't for everyone so please read the CW before you read!!!

“Perverted”, “Scandalous”, “Creepy”- Those were the words that I would have used to describe myself at this moment.

The night had started innocently enough. Y/n and I were having one of our monthly movie nights. We ordered pizza, watched a new release that we had been waiting for for months, and had some wine. Though, as it usually does with y/n, some wine turned into 2 bottles of the dark liquid. I wouldn’t have called myself drunk, but she insisted that I should not drive in that state. It wasn’t the first time I had slept over at her apartment, but this time, I wished that I had just gotten into my fucking car.

While I got ready for bed in the bathroom, y/n was preparing the couch for me since I always refused to take the bed. She still put up a fight every time, as if she didn’t do the same when she slept over at my place, and then pettishly prepared the couch. It was cute, just like every single thing about her was.

I sighed as I spit the toothpaste in the sink, thinking about how much it sucks to be in love with your best friend. Friends to Lovers…yeah, I wish. They make it look so easy on screen, but in reality, it just sucks. I contemplated telling her countless times, but the risk of losing her is too much. Even if she felt the same, relationships can end, people can fall out of love, and then you are left with nothing. I’d rather stick to yearning for the rest of my life.

When I left the bathroom, she was already waiting for me and we exchanged goodnights as we passed each other. Sleeping on the couch really didn’t sound so bad when the alternative was potentially losing her.

That didn’t mean that I didn’t lie awake thinking about what it would be like to sleep in the same bed as her and wake up next to her though. Most times I barely got any sleep, like tonight.

I tried falling asleep for 30 minutes before I gave up and turned the TV back on. I was barely able to hear the show that was running, but I hoped that concentrating on it would make me tired. It would have worked, but just as I was about to drift off to sleep, there was the faintest sound coming from y/n’s bedroom. It was so quiet that I wondered if I had just imagined it, but as I looked at the door, I saw that she didn’t close it properly, presumably by accident.

I closed my eyes again because people make noises in their sleep all the time, especially her, but a few seconds later, there was another noise. It sounded like a whimper, and this time I was sure that I had actually heard it. I contemplated what to do. Y/n had nightmares all the time, as should be expected in our line of work, but sometimes it was worse waking her up than just letting her sleep through it. Though thinking about the time when she scratched herself so hard that she woke up with blood under her fingernails, I got up anyway.

That was the first mistake I made that night.

I swear my thoughts were innocent when I went to push open the door, I just wanted to prevent her from hurting herself, so I was absolutely not prepared for the sight in front of me when the door fell open enough for me to look inside.

Y/n was lying on top of the bed, one hand in her panties and the other clutching the sheets. I froze. I know I should have just quietly closed the door and gone back to bed, but I didn’t.

That was the second mistake I made that night.

I kept my eyes on her, carefully memorizing everything I saw before me, storing it away in my endless memory. The way she arched her back while drawing slow circles over her clit, the way her shirt rose up because of that, and how the exposed skin of her legs and stomach looked in the faint moonlight that was streaming through her window.

The thing that got to me most though, was the look on her face. Her mouth was slightly agape, brows furrowed and her eyes clenched shut. It was absolutely mesmerizing, she was absolutely mesmerizing, and every detail of it was burned into my brain.

I knew how wrong it was, watching her like this in such a vulnerable moment, but I couldn’t look away. I was convinced the gods themselves were punishing me by putting such a sight in front of me and expecting me to walk away from it. It was utterly fucked up.

Another whimper left her, louder this time and she bit her lip, trying to keep herself quiet. God, she was trying not to wake me up but here I was, standing at her door and watching her.

Her underwear was pink, and even though it was almost dark in her room, I could still see the wet spot on it. I felt like I didn’t have any control over my body as my hand made its way to the bulge that was growing in my pajama pants, the pants she got me for my birthday. I remembered the look on her face as I unwrapped the fish print fabric, eyes full of excitement and the innocence that was always on her face. Well, most of the time anyway, because right now, there was no innocence in sight.

I was a sick man.

Her hand picked up the pace and I could hear the wet sounds it made. She sighed and threw her head back the same moment that my own hand found its way into my pants, thumb brushing over the precum-covered tip of my cock. I swallowed the groan that threatened to leave my throat when her other hand wandered to her breast, squeezing it, while I was stroking myself as fast as I could without making any sound.

It was then that I noticed the thing that would forever exile me from heaven and condemn me to a life in hell because while she lay there pleasuring herself, she was wearing my shirt, the shirt I had worn yesterday night in the cheap hotel room we were sharing. I had searched the whole room for it this morning, she helped me look.

I had to bite my lip to prevent a moan from escaping. Not only did she steal my shirt, but she also lied to me and was now wearing it while she fucked herself. The thought of my sweet and innocent best friend doing such a filthy thing almost pushed me over the edge, but like the sick masochistic pervert that I was, I gripped the base of my cock to keep me from cumming so soon. I wanted to watch her fall apart first, knowing if my orgasm finished washing over me first I would feel so guilty and sick I’d probably run to the bathroom to throw up and miss the best part.

The faster her hand moved and the closer she got, the more her sounds increased in volume. It’s fascinating how being aroused shifts your perception of the world around you because I would bet that she didn’t realize how loud she was getting. It didn’t matter anyways because the person she tried to keep quiet for was standing in the dark watching her.

When a whine escaped her, and her thighs started trembling, I knew she was close, so I started to increase my pace. I wanted to come with her, watch her fall apart and use it to reach my own climax.

My hand moved frantically around my cock and when her face scrunched up in pleasure and her thighs closed around her hand, I imagined how they would feel clenching around me. It was that thought that finally pushed me over the edge and made me spill my cum into my underwear. I bit down on my tongue hard and continued stroking myself while coming down, the same way she did.

When her hand stilled and she huffed out a breath, I knew I had to move fast. As quietly as I could I closed the door the same way it was before I had entered earlier and rushed to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up as best as I could and decided that I preferred to sleep in cum covered underwear instead of no underwear at all.

I caught my breath and tried not to think about what I had just done, but when I opened the door to go back to bed, y/n stood in front of me.

“Hi”, she almost squeaked when she saw me. Looking at her face, warm and splotchy from her orgasm, I felt myself getting hard again. I cleared my throat.

“Hi yourself”, I replied, acting like the last 10 minutes didn’t actually happen.

“You’re still awake”, she said and I saw realization wash over her face. To go to the bathroom, you had to walk by her room, and she must have noticed that her door wasn’t closed when she got up. She stood in front of me frozen and I hate to admit how much the sight turned me on. She thought I heard her. God if she knew.

I tried to be a good person, to be a gentleman, and let it go. Let her go to the bathroom to clean herself up and never talk about it again, but I just couldn’t.

“Yeah, I, uh, I couldn’t sleep”, I started and tilted my head to fake a concerned look,” By the way, are you okay? I heard some noise coming from your room. Did you have a nightmare again?” I was a sick perverted man, but the horror that washed over her face at my words almost made me take her right there against the wall.

“Uh yes. Yes, I did, but I’m fine! I’m awake, the nightmare is over. I really need to pee though so… goodnight Spence. Sleep well.” And with that, she started to move around me. I could have just let her go but it was too easy, the opportunity too great not to take it.

“Hey, is that my shirt? I was looking for it all morning.” She almost tripped when the words left my mouth.

“Oh, this was the shirt you lost? I thought it was mine, my bad. You’ll uh, get it back washed and folded just the way you like it. Goodnight!”, y/n rushed out and quickly closed the bathroom door and locked herself inside it.

It was quiet for a moment and then I could hear the faintest “fuck” from behind the door.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid reader #reider #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff

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luna0713hunter · 7 months

Note

Hey love, thank you for the story with insecure Usopp, it was just how I imagined :*

Could you know maybe write for Luffy x f!reader, where is so in love with him but insecure because she knows luffy can be rather childish and she thinks that he maybe does not know how a relationship works or what romantic love is but he notices and they talk and he assures her and like with heavy make out and suggestive at the end like „i‘ll show you how serious i mean this and how much i love you“

Thanks and love

Author's note : thank you both for your kind words!!these two requests were similar so i decided to do them in one fic! Thanks for reading and your support!

Always serious about you

Monkey d.Luffy x reader

Summary : being in a relationship with Luffy was great! It was refreshing,fun and always so thrilling. But... sometimes you cant help but to wonder if Luffy is actually serious about you or is it all just a game to him...

Warnings : hurt/comfort,talk about insecurities,happy ending, relationship doubts

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

Laughter fills the kitchen of Going Merry as Usopp tries to fit another cupcake in his mouth.

You watch as Sanji shakes his head disapprovingly,Nami sharing a disgusted look with Zoro who's smirking slightly. And Luffy-

Monkey d. Luffy. The boy you grew up with and loved since the very beginning. The boy who dreamed so big even when he was small;the boy who became your captain.

And now,the boy who became your boyfriend after a tiny peck and shy confession on your part. But as you watch him stuff a donut in his mouth; seemingly competing with Usopp,you cant help but to wonder if you've made the wrong decision.

What if Luffy didnt even know how relationships work? What if he thought your confession was referring to being his best friend or something along those lines?

The thought has you stomach twisting and you gently push your plate away. Sanji,of course notices and shifts his attention to you.

"is the food not to your liking?"

You shake your head with a smile and rise from your sit .

"it was lovely as always Sanji. But I'm afraid I'm not hungry anymore."

"then I will wrap this for when you're hungry."

You give him a grateful smile and nod your head.

"thank you,Sanji."

And without looking at anyone else,you silently leave the kitchen.

As you step on the deck,the cool wind hits your face and makes you take a deep breath;it feels refreshing to get some air. The weather is nice,and the sky is clear. You lean against the railing and rest your chin on top of your folded arms and sigh;the stars are twinkling above and although beautiful,your heart clenches painfully. Your thoughts are dark just like the night sky and you feel tears burning your eyes and you push your face in your sleeves.

You hate this feeling. You hate having to doubt your relationship with Luffy. You hate hate hate, having to think about all these problems alone without any reassurance and a shoulder to cry on.

You hate doubting Luffy,your Captain,and the boy you loved since your childhood days.

The sound of the wind and ocean drowns your first sobs as your tears soak your sleeves,and you crumble on the floor with you head between your knees. You needed comfort,you needed Luffy.

You're so lost in your own thoughts that you dont hear the door to the deck opening,nor you hear the footsteps coming closer to you. You're so confused and lost that when a gentle hand lands on your shoulder,you jerk your head up so fast that you cringe at the whiplash you gave yourself.

You come face to face with Luffy,and your eyes widen immediately.

"L-Luffy-?"

"y/n?why are you crying?!" His hands are frantic as he starts looking for any injuries and when he finds none,he takes your face in his hands, "what's wrong?you suddenly left the dinner now you're crying!tell me what's wrong!"

When you look at his brown eyes,and see so much concern in them,you finally break.

Your sobs are loud and painful as your nails push in your skin and you bite your lip hard to keep yourself from letting out a pitiful whimper. Luffy's eyes immediately draw to your lips that are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting them,and with a sad noise he jumps closer to press his lips to yours.

The action has your eyes widening,and you look at how he's squeezing his own shut.

When he pulls away,his thumb brushes against your bruised lips done by yourself,and frowns.

"don't hurt yourself like that. If something's wrong,tell me and I'll fix it. I promise."

"Luffy," your throat dries and your tongue darts out to wet your lips;still slightly dazed from the kiss, "do you even...want to be in a relationship with me?"

Your question has Luffy tilting his head, genuinely confused by it.

"what do you mean?"

"do you," you huff and rub harshly at your eyes. But before you can do any more harm,He wipes your tears with his own fingers softly, "do you even know how relationships work?like... romantically?" You lower your eyes and bite your lips again, "maybe...you misunderstood my confession?"

Luffy stares at you without saying a word,and when you grow uncomfortable and start fidgeting,he suddenly lets out a loud laughter. You pout and smack him on the head.

"why are you laughing?!"

"how could i possibly misunderstand your confession when i know i love you so much?"

His words silence you and your lips part slightly. Luffy smiles and combs his fingers through yout hair, "i might be childish and immature,but i promise you that I'm always serious about my feelings for you."

He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours,and when he rubs his nose against your own,you giggle and look at him from underneath your lashes.

"you mean it?"

"with my life... I'm sorry i made you think otherwise." His fingers lock with yours and he kisses your cheek sweetly, "let me show you how serious i am about our love?"

You kiss his nose and nod.

After that night,you know to never doubt Luffy's feelings for you ever again.

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

P.S : i didnt like how this turned out :( hope you guys forgive me

#monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #one piece x reader #one piece live action x reader #opla luffy x reader

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hangmanssunnies · 2 years

Text

Inconceivable!

Summary: No one tells you how hard it is to have to plan to leave and hurt the love of your life. However, when you know you want different things, you must choose. And your baby is probably the only thing you can ever imagine choosing over Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw.

Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem! Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Word count: 8.2k words

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, fertility problems, panic attacks, Angst with a happy ending, threatening to break Brad's heart, so many references to The Princess Bride,Soft!smut, Soft!Bradley, Organized!Bradley. Let me know if I missed any others.

Authors Note: No use of Y/N. As always, I love BradBrad so much y'all. I don't know if I can write nonangsty smut. I was thinking of him and kids. The next thing you know I wrote whatever this is. Bradley wearing glasses 🥵. I hope you enjoy this! My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are always appreciated as well! I love reading through them.

You knew Bradley never wanted to be a father, which was just fine with you because you knew you couldn't have kids. You had known about your fertility problems for a long time and had long ago come to peace with it.

Y'all had several conversations about children when you first started dating. Once you both felt like your feelings on the matter were hashed out, you had never really felt like revisiting the topic. Your life wasn't less or empty without kids. You were perfectly content with the life you and Rooster had made together.

That's why you have no idea what to do with the situation you are in right now. You were at your gynecologist for your annual check-up. Taking a pregnancy test was standard procedure, something you didn't even bat your eyes about or worry over. What you weren't prepared for was the positive results back.

"I'm sorry?" You choked out in disbelief. "That can't be possible."

"I know this is probably surprising, but," your doctor starts to say before you cut them off.

"No. No, I have known since I was 17 that I can't get pregnant."

"Well, you are and can. Sometimes miracles like this can happen," your doctor responded kindly.

She went on to ramble more and talk about some next steps and options. You felt shocked, not entirely sure how to process the information she was throwing your way. You left the office a bit later, promising to set up a follow-up appointment.

Your first thought was to get an abortion. It was the obvious solution. Bradley didn't want kids, and you hadn't wanted them either. Right? You tried to think if it was true. Was it that you didn't want kids or just that you couldn't have kids?

For the next week, you tried to run the pros and cons and sort out your feelings on what was happening. You tried to act as normal as possible with Bradley. You didn't want to bring anything up until you knew how you felt.

Part of you kept coming back to when you were a little girl to how growing up before you knew that you couldn't have kids, the promise you would whisper to yourself. The promise of how you would do better than your own parents did.

You thought of the fantasies you used to have: the baby shoes, baking in the kitchen guiding a tiny pair of hands, sports practices, matching sweaters for family holiday cards, first recitals, proms and homecomings, dropping them off for their first day of college, and parent's weekends where you buy cheap booze, family trips, the possibilities of grandkids.

Now suddenly, all those fantasies were a possibility again. A reality that could come true in less than a year. Thinking about them brought an ache to your chest. An ache that manifested as want, a desire so strong all the cons you could come up with didn't really matter, well, all of them but one.

The biggest problem of the puzzle was Bradley, the love of your life. You had absolutely no doubt that he would do the right thing and stay by your side. However, you didn't want him to be a dad because he had to do it. The thought of him being forced to do something he didn't want to, just because it's the right thing, made your stomach roll. The idea of part of him resenting you, and eventually your child too, because of something you chose. That was something you couldn't live with.

So even though you felt a heavy hurt in your chest, you knew you had to leave Bradley. You weighed that heartbreak compared to the want for this child that had bloomed in your chest, and one outweighed the other. So now, on top of thinking about the baby, you started to think through quiet plans of how it would hurt your husband least to leave him.

You almost broke down one night and told him the two of you had been lying on the couch together. Bradley was casually spooning you from behind, one of his hands playing with a lock of hair while the movie he picked played on the TV. Of course, it was the Princess Bride, one of his all-time favorites.

You were half watching the movie, half dozing. Bradley was too good at soothing you, and you had started noticing a significant change in your energy levels as of late. You mentally made a note to bring it up at the follow-up doctor's appointment you had scheduled.

"I would do that," Bradley suddenly says, bringing you back to alertness.

"Oh really?" you hum, unsure what he was talking about.

"Yes, I would wait five years and chase after kidnappers, fight the prince, build a tolerance to poison, all for you, baby."

Bradley's honest love for you warmed your chest like it always did. However, the current circumstances turned that warmth into a bitter aftertaste in the back of your throat. What you were doing haunted you. His hand drops your hair and traces down your arm until he threads your fingers together. His large hand in yours helped further break down your resolve.

"What if I asked you to do something you didn't want to?" You ask him hesitantly.

"If you wanted me to, then I would," Brad tells you plainly. As if that were a given, you should just expect that his desires would line up with yours. It doesn't put you at ease like you were hoping it would.

"What if it was something you really didn't want to. Something bigger than sword fights and rodents of unusual size?"

His hand flexes squeezing yours a little tighter. Bradley doesn't say anything for a moment, and you wait with bated breath. Finally, he nuzzles your neck with his nose before asking, "Do you have something specific in mind?"

That was the moment, the moment that you could come clean to him. You could be honest and lay it all out on the table, but you don't. You can't. You aren't ready to let him go yet; it's too soon, you tell yourself.

So you lie to him, finally pushing the words out your throat, "No, nothing specific. Just asking."

Bradley's fingers that are laced with yours squeeze yours again, and you have the sneaking suspicion that he doesn't believe your lie. "Well, even if it was big. We would do what we always do. We'll talk about it and figure it out. Then I'll agree with what you want, just like I always do."

"You shouldn't do things you don't want to do just for me, Brad," you chastise him lightly. The heavy pit in your chest constricts even more.

He kisses your head, pulling you a little tighter against him in his embrace. "Sure, whatever you say, babe."

The whole thing sits with you for another week, and the doctor's appointment you made starts to creep closer. You are reading an article in incognito mode on your phone about nutrition during pregnancy and the importance of vitamins. Occasionally, you glance up to see Bradley sitting on the other side of the couch.

He has a thick World War Two biography book wide open, nearing the end. His reading glasses are perched on the edge of his nose. Even though you had teased Brad relentlessly when he first got them, the glasses were actually really hot. The sight of them on him now makes heat start to bud in the bottom of your abdomen.

You lock your phone and set it aside, looking more thoroughly at Bradley now. He was so so very handsome. You found it unlikely there would ever be another man you would allow into your bed after him. The edges of panic that seep into you every time you consider the inevitable end with Bradley makes a reappearance. You push it to the side as much as possible, but it creates a sudden desperation for him in you.

"Bradley."

"Yes, my love?" He asks, not looking up from the page in front of him.

"I need something."

"What do you need?" He turns the page of his book and pushes those damn glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

"I need you," you tell him, biting your lip.

His eyes snap up from the page to look at you, and his eyebrows raise, processing your words. "What was that?"

"I need you to make love to me, Brad. I'm on fire."

He dog ears the page he is on his book and sets it on the coffee table, turning to give you his full attention. His hands casually trace up your leg, massaging the tense muscles of your claves.

You let out a soft sigh at the feeling. A few moments later, Bradley crawls up your body, pressing soft kisses to your neck and then melding his lips to yours. You sigh into his mouth, enjoying the taste of him, trying to savor it. You pull off his reading glasses so they aren't in the way, haphazardly tossing them away.

When he starts to pull away, you wrap your arms around him, drawing him closer, not wanting any space between you. You trace one of your hands down his neck and under the collar of his shirt, tracing his shoulders, kissing him harder, slipping your tongue into his mouth.

"What has got you so needy, sweet girl?" He asks you, confused, pressing a few soft sweet kisses to your throat.

"Just you, handsome man," you tell him, trying to draw Bradley back to your lips. Bradley smiles, hearing your words but then shifts off you and the couch.

Before you can protest at his absence, he goes to pick you up. Like every time Bradley picks you up, you are hit with the worry that it will be the time he can't do it, or he will drop you, make heaving grunting sounds, or some other terrible mishap will come to pass. It doesn't, though; he secures you in his arms and starts to carry you through the house to your room.

You start pressing kisses to the readily presented column of his neck then. When he reaches your bed and goes to put you down, you sink your teeth into the space where his neck starts to curve into his shoulder. Although he lets out a hiss, you hadn't held back with the bite. You made it intending to mark him.

When he does set you down, you scramble hurriedly to start undressing him, desperate to see and feel the expanses of his golden skin. Unfortunately, you only get Brad out of his teeshirt before he stops you. His large hands close around your wrists, holding them tight, preventing them from moving further down, lower than the top of his abdomen.

"Slow down, pretty girl. We got all the time in the world," he says. You know, he said it to be soothing, but he didn't know how wrong he was. He didn't understand the finite amount of time you had left together.

So when he lets go of your wrist, you instead start to pull off your own clothes and settle yourself on the bed. You stare at him expectantly and let out the smallest huff.

"Slow down." He tells you again, "And, don't move your hands off the headboard," When he is satisfied with how you are holding it, he starts to kiss down your body.

"Why are you so worried?" he breaths out against your inner thigh, pressing feather-light kisses to the skin there. "You know I'm going to take care of you, my love. I always do. There's no reason to be so worried."

Bradley's words manage to hit the exact spot of comfort you are actually needing. Even though you are planning on leaving him. You still want him to take care of you; you want to do this with him. But, you also know that can't happen. So, regardless you feel more at ease; the desperation in you is not quite so hot, not making you jittery with need.

Bradley rewards the way your body relaxes by licking stripe over you. You resist the urge to let go of the headboard and bury your hands in Bradley's thick hair. The way he sucks your clit into his mouth to roll his tongue over makes you arch, needing more. Bradley lays his arm across your hips, applying pressure to keep you still under him.

The more you work to struggle against his arm, feeling your high edge closer and closer, a thought suddenly pops into your head. Is it still okay for Bradley to hold you down like this? Are you going to hurt your baby? It's an irrational thought, you know that, but your body instantly reacts to it. Of course, so early into your pregnancy, there is no reason this would be a problem, but you still drop your hips down onto the bed, no longer trying to move them against him. Your distraction pulled you far back from the edge.

You try to focus on the feel of Bradley's tongue and how warm he feels with his shoulders caged between your thighs. But only a few breaths later, Bradley is lifting his head to look at you.

He has a crease between his eyebrows, and his tongue that was just around you darts out to lick to own lips. "What just stopped you from coming?" he asks, concerned. His voice is thick and low. His hold over your waist disappears as he draws soothing circles on your hip. Bradley's concern draws you back to him and into the want you have for him.

You let go of the headboard and stretch out your arms. Then, burying your hands in his hair, you tilt Brad's face to fully meet your eyes.

"Make love to me, Bradley," you beg him. He stares at you for a very long minute, and you stare back at him, waiting. Finally, he pulls his eyes away from yours and stares at your center in front of him.

"As you wish," he mutters the words. Rooster pulls himself off the bed and pulls his sweats off. You drag your eyes over his naked body, taking him all in. You lick your lips at the sight.

"You are breathtaking, Brad," you tell him. That smile that melts your heart shows up on his face, and he glows under your praise.

You crawl to the edge of the bed and trace your hands up his muscular thighs. You guide your hand upwards. You brush over his cock, not really giving it any attention, before outlining his side, watching his stomach and abs contract under your fingers. You go slowly, trying to memorize the feel of his skin under you. You kiss along his chest too.

He leans down and captures your lips. You kiss Rooster back, glad that the fervor has left your body, but you are no less desperate for him. The desire to memorize him doesn't go.

You urge him onto the bed, pushing him on his back. You straddle Bradley, settling over him, with his cock nestled in between your lower lips. You give a small rock, his head bumping into your clit. You moan a little and repeat the motion.

Leaning forward, you rest your hands on his chest to give you more leverage. Rooster moves his hips with you increasing the friction. The pace is slow and almost teasing for both of you.

Shifting your weight, you lean and kiss him again. Bradley's tongue slips into your mouth, running against yours. One of his hands comes up and rests on your hip, urging you, pulling you further down to rub against him harder. His other hand cups one of your breasts, his thumb running over your nipple in swirling strokes.

You break his embrace just to reach your hand and guide him inside. Bradley lets out a heavy sigh as he slips into you. You resist the urge to slide all the way down his length, keeping it slow.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he tells you, biting his lips.

"Love how you fill me, Brad," you sigh once he is fully hilted. Both of you are breathing more elevated. When you start to move your hips again, Bradley closes his eyes and presses his head back into the bed.

You immediately stop moving, glaring down at him. "No," you say, and his eyes open instantly, looking at you again. You reach up a hand to grip his chin affectionately, holding his face in place. "I need to see you."

"You are so beautiful," he tells you. Bradley does as you want and doesn't break eye contact again.

The room is filled with both of your moanings as you work together at a slow, steady pace. The way his hands run along your skin and back is almost reverent. The heat in you starts to build again. You grind down hard onto Bradley so that your clit gets more stimulation.

Rooster's right hand comes around and settles on your lower stomach, applying pressure and letting his thumb dip down to brush your clit in light strokes. You gasp, a moan breaking from your throat. You freeze on top of Bradley's cock, enjoying the zing his thumb just sent up your spine.

"That's right. So good." Bradley moans out, pressing his thumb harder into you. Even though he is filling you so deliciously, you don't feel close enough to him. You feel like you want to crawl into his skin. That would be the only thing that would satisfy your need for him.

You grab his hand that isn't on your clit and thread your fingers together. His hand grips yours back. Bradley doesn't make any movement to shift either of your hips, content to play with your clit and stare into your eyes.

"Fuck, I love you." Bradley groans out, biting his lower lip. You start to rock your hips into his again, but for the most part, keeping him fully hilted inside you. You almost feel like you are drowning in his eyes with how he looks up at you. His heavy-lidded gaze makes you clench around him.

Your moans and quiet pants mix with his. The tension in you grows as you swirl your hips into his.

"Need this, need you." Bradley swirls his thumb a little harder and does break eye contact to nip your neck, sitting more up on the bed to get a better angle. Having more of your skin pressed together helps ease more of the ache in you.

You grip his hair again, pulling him up, shifting, so you are chest to chest. Bradley's free hand clutches you close to him. You trace the scars on his cheek with your lips before kissing him again.

"I love you," you sigh against his mouth. He groans and rocks his hips into yours, creating a bit more friction. Rooster understands just what you need, not pulling out of you.

The two of you build a rhythm together; finally, you can't hold back anymore. The bubble in you bursts, and you clench hard around Bradey's cock. Bradley takes a few more gasping breaths and then cums in you with a low moan. Bradley starts to move like he is going to pull out of you, so you whine and hold him closer.

"No, no. I need you closer," you tell him. You are still desperate to have him near. You press your nose into Rooster's neck, breathing in his natural musky scent. Trying to absorb the smell entirely, memorizing it before biting the skin and tasting it.

"Woah. Woah," Bradley says breathily. You let out a low hum in response, trying to savor his sounds as well. You wiggle your hips against him again, where he is still half hard. You consciously clench around his dick, reminding yourself how full Bradley makes you.

"Baby, stop," he says. Rooster's voice is wrecked, and his large hands hold your hips still. At first, you don't even hear his request until he repeats it more forcefully. Then he rolls you over onto your back and pulls out of you quickly. You gasp at the sudden loss of him. You have to lay there for a moment, trying to reorient yourself. Bradley is sitting on the edge of the bed, panting hard, his hands on his knees.

"Bradley?" You croak out, reaching a hand hesitantly towards him. He looks back at you, and his face is a mix of panicked and furious.

"What the fuck was that?" He asks you in a low growl.

"What was what?"

"Don't bullshit me."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," you tell him, drawing your eyebrows close together.

"That was was goodbye sex," he says slowly. Your mouth drops open, and you try to reach around your rattling brain to come up with an answer, an excuse. However, you find it completely empty.

"That was the exact kind of sex we have before I leave and deploy. You had the same look." Bradley was almost shaking, and you had no idea what to say that wouldn't be a lie.

"What's going on? Something has been wrong for weeks. I keep waiting for you to talk to me, and you fucking haven't."

"I —" you start to say, but Bradley's eyes are so captivating, so genuine, you can't lie to him. So before you even know what you are saying, the words fall out of your mouth, "I'm leaving."

Rooster physically recoils at your words. The line of his back is taut, and his eyebrows draw together. His mouth presses into a tight line. His jaw flexing, and you can tell he is clenching his teeth. "What did I do wrong?"

"No, sweetie," you say quickly. "It's not you. It's me." You tell him gently. It was you, well, you and this baby, but Brad didn't need to know that. Your words only seemed to make him more upset.

"Are you kidding me? You didn't just say that." He mutters it under his breath, pulling at his short curls in frustration and glaring at you. He is so tense the veins in his bicep and neck start to pop.

"I'm sorry," you offer him quietly.

"I don't want to hear sorry. I want to hear a reason. Were you going to tell me? Or just planning to disappear?"

"Of course, I was going to tell you."

"When?"

"Soon."

"Why? "

"I can't..."

"No. I think I deserve to know why the love of my life is leaving me," Bradley says, frustrated. He stands up from bed, goes to his drawers, and pulls on some boxers to throw on. He also grabs one of his old Sigma Pi shirts out of his drawer and throws it for you to shrug on.

You felt shame and frustration building in you. You didn't want to deal with this situation right now. You didn't want to have to tell Bradley why. Then to your absolute horror, and probably the hormones coursing through you, you burst into tears.

Bradley's pacing halts for a moment at the sight of your tears, but then he resumes momentarily as he balls his fist tight. His knuckles turning a paler shade.

"We want different things." You gasp out between the sobs racking your body.

"We want different things," he repeats slowly, like he is trying to piece out some hidden meaning in the words.

"Yes," you hiccup nodding your head.

"How could that be possible?" He questions you sharply. "If that were the case, we wouldn't have gotten married. And you didn't mention anything when we had our last relationship check-in."

Bradley was big on communication. He insisted y'all have seasonal relationship check-ins with each other to talk about anything that had happened and how you were feeling about your relationship. This conversation should have probably been reserved for the next one, but you couldn't wait a few more weeks before leaving, or Bradley would know.

You were going to start showing at some point; while all the articles you read were inconsistent about when that might happen, it would happen eventually. You knew it would probably be impossible to leave Rooster if he knew that you were pregnant. Every moment with him weakened your resolve to do the right thing.

"Things change, people change." You weakly tell him. Not able to conceive a better excuse.

"I don't understand why you are jumping into leaving me. Baby, why won't you talk to me?" Bradley suddenly dropped hard to his knees on the wood floor at the side of the bed. You winced at the sound it made. He pulls one of your hands into both of his. "Please talk to me," he begs you, holding your hand delicately in his. The puppy dog look Bradley has mastered coming out in full force.

"I can't…"

"You can," he reassures you, swiping a thumb across your pulse point. You felt your stomach roll, the emotions in you going haywire.

"I'm…" you trail off and then shake your head at him in denial of this situation. As soon as you tell Bradley, it will be over.

"It's okay, baby. Anything. You can tell me anything. Talk to me. I won't be mad," he adds on for your benefit. Your plans all crumbled at that moment because how can you deny Bradley Bradshaw anything when he begs for it.

"I'm pregnant," you finally whisper in a barely audible voice. With how Bradley reacted to your words, you might as well have screamed them. First, he flinches like a whole body flinch. Every muscle you can see tensing. He shutters and his grip on your hand tightens to where it is almost painful.

Bradley freezes like that for a moment, blinking at you owlishly, before he drops his head down, hiding his face from your view. Finally, he presses his face down into the bed.

You wait with bated breath. Rooster's grip on your hand didn't lessen in the slightest. You feel panic settle in the back of your throat when his shoulders start to tremble, and he still hasn't said anything.

"Bradley?" You flex your hand, resisting his tight grip, and he releases you. His hands fall limply on the bed. He still hasn't looked at you, though.

Tears start to streak down your face faster, and a small sob hitches in your throat. "I am sorry," you tell him sincerely.

"Are you really?" His low voice asks muffled.

"Sorry, or pregnant?" You ask pulling up the collar of his shirt you are wearing to wipe away some of your tears. "Because it's both."

His hands come to clasp themselves together, and you briefly wonder if he is praying. The shaking of his shoulders and the inability to see his face make it increasingly impossible to understand his reaction.

Finally, he looks at you, and those hazel eyes bleed back at you, tears still falling down his face staining his cheeks a bright red even through the healthy tan he has right now. Bradley's eyes trace over your face looking like he is searching for any trace of a lie. Then he examines your body under his shirt like he might already see a difference.

As if there was a difference, he would be able to notice now that he didn't notice before when you were naked, and he was inside of you. You wrap your arms around your chest, hugging yourself under his scrutiny.

"I'm going to keep it." You finally tell him now that Bradley's shining eyes are available for scrutiny again. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his face falls into a frown. "I'm sorry," you say again.

You try to think of the right words to explain yourself to him. "When I found out, I realized I wanted this. I know we always said we didn't. But I really want this baby, Bradley. I am sorry I kept it from you. I just didn't know how to tell you. And then I saw these baby shoes in the store. They were so cute." Your fingers knot into the edge of the worn frat shirt you are wearing. His hazel eyes aren't giving you much to go off of. They are still darting around your face like he is trying to figure out what you are telling him.

Brad abruptly stands up in the middle of your rambling. So, you halt your words. Watching him as he walks out of the room. You strain your ears, trying to listen to where he went. You hear the hallway door open and beeps coming from the safe. After hearing it click open and seal again, Bradley's feet can be heard on the hallway floor again.

Your mind runs, trying to think of what he could have grabbed from the safe. Your important documents? You silently make a note that was something that you need to be sure to pack. You wouldn't want to come back to Bradley to get your passport or something after leaving. Could it be money? Was he going to give you money to leave with and give you some of the cash you two had been saving to move?

The thoughts make breathing extra hard, and you start to suck air in and out rapidly. The panic floods your veins, making the walls of the room shrink inward towards you. Sharp tingles prick at your fingertips and toes.

Before you can run through any other possible scenario, he gets back.

You can't focus on Bradley enough to see him through the black that starts to edge in at the corner of your vision. You desperately try to pull a gasping breath in your chest. The action of breathing is suddenly too overwhelming.

The panic of what you had just done finally cutting into you. That Bradley now knew the secrets you had been harboring so close to your chest. There is wringing in your ears, the shuddering wracking your body. You curl into yourself to try and shield yourself from the hurt and panic ringing through your body.

Then, you are engulfed. There isn't enough weight on the outside of you to combat the storm of panic that was trying to burst out from the inside of your veins. Numbness fills your body, and you know you are close to passing out. The storm brewed inside you, desperate to escape your body, desperate to take you out at the same time.

Heaving in breaths gets harder and more difficult. You dig your nails hard into the skin of your thighs, trying to scramble for anything to steady yourself. Fighting each desperate moment when there is s shift.

At first, you don't know what has changed. However, your breaths get a gasp longer, allowing slightly more oxygen, and the black in your vision starts to recede. You slam your eyes shut at the nausea you feel. The more air you can finally take in, the more you are allowed to start making sense of anything besides your own haywire body.

You are wrapped in your weighted blanket, and the extra pressure is aided by Bradley. He is holding you tight within his arms and legs, and he has you pulled close to his chest.

His legs are wrapped around your hips and crossed in front of you. Giving the front of your body room. Your legs are trapped between you two. One of his arms is crossed over your chest, and the other is petting your head soothingly, playing with your hair occasionally.

Bradley is humming to you. You try and focus on the tune. It's like a lifeline; you cling to the sound, letting it help your thoughts trail away from your panic. You keep trying to breathe bigger, longer breaths consciously now.

It's a tune you have heard before. Finally, Bradley breaks from the humming, whispering one of the lyrics into your ear, and you can immediately place the song.

"Love of my life," he mutters lowly into your ear, and then he returns to his humming. You are flashed back to a different time he sang this song to you.

He had been perched on the bench of a piano. Fingers gliding over the keys in time, his sweet voice dipping between octaves. It was Love Of My Life, by Queen. It is the song Bradley sings to you before every single deployment.

The song feels like a confirmation that you two will not be making it. A confirmation he is letting you go. This is the song that always fills the space between you when parting ways. The small semblance of recovery you had made is gone. Your breaths start to quicken again as you are dragged back into the panic.

Bradley's arms flex hard, and there is slightly more pressure around you. The beads of the weighted blanket shifting under his hands. He continues humming the song, but this time he peppers in a few more of the lyrics.

"Love of my life, don't leave me," he croons softly into your ear.

You don't know how long Bradley holds you waiting for you to calm down. You don't ever feel at ease, but the slow breaths and Bradley's soothing voice help bring you down from the high and worst of the panic attack.

You manage to let out a little whimper, and Bradley's arms start to loosen around you in slow intervals. You turn your face to the side, slotting your eyes up to catch a glimpse of him. Bradley has his eyes closed, and his face is splotchy and red from crying still. You fill in some of the lyrics to his humming in a cracked, barely there voice. Those beautiful eyes flash open, hearing your voice join his humming.

He won't stop humming, though. Rooster's hazel eyes are so intense, a medusas snare, that even as hard as you try to close your eyes, you aren't successful. They have captivated you entirely. Bradley finishes humming the song and lets his arms slip from around you. His legs uncross, and they fall flat on the bed on either side of you.

You push the weighted blanket off your top, so it is pilled around your legs as you ease out of your curled position.

"BradBrad," you whisper for him. You are still trembling at the very tips of your fingers. The buzz and tingles at the front of your nose are still persistent, but feeling has returned to the rest of your body. The needles fade out of your hands and legs.

"Love of my life," he hums sweetly again. His eyes have a tiny bit of worry, but for the most part, they are full of love and adoration for you. His body is borderline hot to the touch and feverish behind you. His heart is thumping loudly under your ear.

Brad's now loose hands find new purchase, gliding over your hips, tracing slow, steady circles. Then his left hand starts creeping forward further. Bradley's large hand is suddenly under his shirt and splaying out flat against your lower belly. That is where it finds its perch.

You gasp at the feeling of his hand, at the placement of it. Brad's fingers make the tiniest indents pressing into your skin. Your breath hitches at his squeeze. The metal of his wedding ring is warm against your skin, a nice contrast to the rest of his hand.

Hearing the way your breath hitches, Bradley immediately lays his hand fully flat. Bradley now retreating to a feather-light touch. His fingers swirl in an unknown pattern on your skin. His hands like to trace the shapes of flight paths he has memorized.

It was something Bradley had confessed to you one night during pillow talk. The two of you sprawled together. You were laying half on his chest. His fingertips were tracing the length of your spine, in feather-light trials, moving from the base of your spine to the small of your back, then following the path again. His fingers would sometimes brush into your hair and give small scratches before tracing your flesh again.

"How do you do that?" You finally had asked him.

"Do what?" He responded, but something about the glint in his eye told you he knew exactly what you were referring to. Rooster just wanted you to admit it out loud.

"You are so consistent, but you keep me on my toes." Bradley's hand stills where it had been gliding on your back. Then he started to trace once more, but this time his fingers making small movements and taking on a new drag like pattern dancing across your back.

"Is that right?" He asked you, but there was a full-blown boyish smirk donning his face.

You nodded your head, licking your lips. The tingles that his hands were sending through your body started to warm you up even after just having finished with him. "Yes, it rocks my world. So, why don't you let me on the secret?"

"I'm just that good, baby," he told you cheekily.

"Bradley Bradshaw." You warned lowly.

"It's flight paths."

"What?"

"I use the flight paths I have memorized," his fingers danced in a looping motion doubling back and then tracing forward again.

"They make it easy to loop, but it's long enough that there is different pacing, or I use the piano," He told you, letting his fingers tap and shift along your back as if it was a set of ivories suddenly. It had made you giggle.

"That might have been one of the sexiest things you have ever told me, Bradley." You had told him before you kissed him silly. And letting him showcase those skills with his tongue for the second time that night.

Now, Brad's hand that is lying against your stomach also starts to follow a pattern. You open your mouth, but Bradley quickly cuts you off.

"Please, don't say sorry."

"But I am."

"That was a bad attack."

It was true that you hadn't had one that severe in a while. "I'm—"

"Do not say sorry," he repeats. You sigh heavily and move to stop leaning against Bradley. However, he doesn't let you. The hand on your hip and lower abdomen fighting you and drawing you flush against him. He settles you, so you are comfortably leaning against his chest again.

"I am sorry," Brad finally says, almost a whisper in your ear.

"You are sorry?"

"Yes."

"Why?" You question him. Not sure you understand what he is apologizing for.

"Why are you going to leave me?" Brad asks instead of answering your question.

You sigh and close your eyes. You lean your head back, so it's settled on Bradley's shoulder. Then take a deep calming breath before responding. "I know you don't want kids. You have always been very honest about that, and it's not your fault I'm pregnant.

"Well, I don't think you went and got pregnant by yourself. It's kind of a process that takes two contributing parties. Unless you are going to tell me that it's someone else's." Bradley says the words so incredulously that you know he has no doubt the baby is his.

"I know you don't want this, but I realized I do."

"What if I do want this?"

"I'm not going to let you do this just because you feel obligated, Bradley," you tell him tiredly.

"No. I want this."

"How could that be?" You ask.

You feel him shift behind you, and you open your eyes to see what he is doing. Bradley is reaching to the bedside table where you see a huge binder sitting.

It is a binder that you know well. Bradley is a meticulous and organized person. He likes to refer to this binder as your Life Plan Binder. It was full of timelines, dates, references, and lists. Everything Bradley feels is necessary for y'all's life.

You realize that this one is different from the one that lives on his desk. It is slimmer, and the front doesn't have a picture of the two of you slotted in the cover that the other did.

"The LPB?" You ask him, confused.

His left hand makes itself at home again on your lower abdomen, while his right hand puts the binder on your lap. Finally, you read the cover where it says alternative plans in bold lettering.

"I'm sorry I left earlier, but I needed to get this." He mutters into your ear. Brad's tone is deeply apologetic. He flips the binder open, and there are labeled tabs. You fully realize this is a binder you have never seen before. You scan the tabs and freeze up in Bradley's hold when you see the one he is thumbing to.

It is towards the back, behind the different tabs, including restations, health, new cars, vacations, and retirement, is a tab that has a simple label. It's blue and just says, baby. Bradley flips to the tab, and you see the cover page of the section with the table of contents. In bold at the top of the page, you read Baby Bradshaw.

A sob that ends up coming out as a broken laugh ripping from your chest. The section contents was filled out with thoroughly thought out plans on you having children, from a section with important timelines, appointments to schedule, college savings plans, and a section with boys' and girls' names that he likes.

You bring one of your hands up to stifle the sobs that are bubbling in your chest. You hold your hand close over your mouth to try to hold back the sound. His fingers traced over the page and the table of contents for the section.

"What is this?" You finally ask him.

"It's my alternate life plan binder. For you know, if other things come up."

"Why do you have a Baby Bradshaw section?" You hesitantly ask. His hand is still warm against your stomach, and he flexes his fingers.

"Well, a while ago, I started thinking about kids," he trails off, and you start looking through the table of contents again. You see that the most robust and largest section is actually related to adoption. You feel your heart melt in your chest. A new bright feeling of hope blossoms looking at the care, time, and thought he has put into this. As he continues, "and well… You know how I am. I wanted to be prepared for that possibility."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I've been ruminating, and I don't know. Maybe I would have mentioned it at our next check-in. But I knew you don't…" Bradley doesn't finish his sentence, and you lose your mind a little bit.

You pull the large binger up into your hands and shift. You struggle and move until you turn in his grip. Your legs wrapped around Brad's waist. You want to see his face, which is easier in this position. The hand that had been placed on your stomach curls around your back and waist, steadying you against him.

"You changed your mind?" You ask him. You let your hands trace over his chest, settling on cupping his face. Then, staring into his eyes, you look for any trace of anger or deceit.

"You seem to also have changed your mind, baby," he takes the binder from where it was awkwardly pressed in between you two. It allows you to settle closer to him. Bradley sets the binder to the side, momentarily breaking eye contact to make sure none of the pages are creased. Your chests were almost flush together. You wrap your arms around his neck, and then he is the one to hold your face. His eyes reconnect with yours, and you once again feel like you are caught in them.

The intensity and openness in his gaze make your lips move faster than your brain to lay out the whole truth for him. "I don't think that I ever wanted to not have kids. I had just accepted it because I knew that I couldn't." You explain, not breaking eye contact. Bradley's thumb traces a slow circle against your cheek.

"I would never let you do this by yourself."

"I can't just throw a wrench like this in your life, Brad."

He immediately starts shaking his head in protest. "It's our life. I'm not going to lie to you and say that you didn't hurt my feelings. If you left me," Bradly heaves a heavy shaky breath. You briefly wonder if he is going to cry again. Then he continues to explain, "I would be broken… shattered. I feel even worse that you didn't want to talk to me or tell me."

You can tell how deeply you hurt him. Even though you knew what you were going to do was wrong, now that you and Bradley are talking about it. You know you need to try and explain your rationale no matter how messed up it was.

"At first, I wasn't sure how I felt. I wanted to talk to you, but I couldn't do that before I knew how I felt. But then I kept thinking about all the times we talked about you not wanting kids. How you had so many good, valid reasons for feeling that way. I know you, Bradley. I knew that you would do the right thing as soon as I told you. But you don't need obligation ruling anymore of your life that it already does."

"So what if I was obligated? I agreed to be obligated to you for the rest of our lives when we got married. I want to be bound to you. I want to shoulder your burdens, just like you shoulder mine," Bradley says.

"A child is a lifelong burden for you to shoulder," you say. You need to know, need to be fully sure Brad understands.

"Do you think so low of me? Do you think I wouldn't love something that was a mix of you and me?"

"There are plenty of people in the world who don't love their children." You tell him, swallowing hard.

He lets out a long sigh, his breath fanning a bit over your face. "I want this baby. I want this baby with you. I want to be at every doctor's appointment. I want to know everything I've missed. I want family vacations where I can buy a Hawaiian shirt in three different sizes for all of us. I want little league games. I want a baby to sing to sleep. I want someone to put on top of the piano and sing to like my dad did. I want us to paint a nursery. I want Disney trips. I want to fight about curfew. I want to make breakfast on Saturdays and spend Sundays in the shop with football, restoring a beat-up first car. I want to make dad jokes. Fuck, I need to buy a pair of new balances."

Warmth fills you at his words. You let out a small laugh picturing Bradley as a stereotypical dad. How he wants all of that with you. That you won't do this alone like you have mentally been preparing yourself for since finding out. You run your fingers up and down his neck trailing it down his shoulder as far as you can reach before tracing back to his neck. A content sigh falls from his lips, and his eyes close, enjoying your gentle caresses.

"What are some of the names?" You break the silence after his confessions.

"I like Westley," he says with a small boyish smile. You bite back a grin at the name, playfully rolling your eyes.

"Oh, and is Buttercup on your list for girl names?" You ask him teasingly.

"Maybe," he says. You lean forward and peck his lips.

"You're not going to leave me," Bradley whispers with conviction. You know he is still coming down from the emotional roller coaster you just went through together. You also know Brad is going to need time to fully process this conversation and the change about to happen in your lives. However, you also know, without a doubt, that Bradley will be holding your hand at your next doctor's appointment.

"No, I'm not." You confirm and brush your lips over his softly.

"Stay with me forever," Bradley begs you in a voice a little too small for you to handle.

You hold the hazel gaze for a very, very long moment. You let him examine you, see the truth, and honestly bleeding in your gaze before you respond. What you want to say at first is: I love you. However, those words weren't quite right; they didn't seem to fully capture your intention and the emotion in your chest you felt for this man. So instead, you settle on the words you think will most closely allow him to understand. You brush your lips against him again, whispering your answer into them.

"As you wish, Bradley."

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw x y/n #hot 🥵#Coleys writing #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

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darkcircles4lyfe · 3 months

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This doesn't have anything to do with anything, but i had a talk with a friend a few days ago, about shonen biasis and the way this shapes our expectations, and mha came up so i remembered how so many people apply those biasis HEAVILY into the manga, to the point that they sound like they're looking for a different story.

And one of those things that it seemed to be MOST talked about is exactly bkdk's relationship.

I have seen many times people from the fandom (sometimes really angrily) point out how in most cases Katsuki seems to basically take up not one, but four roles in Izuku's life and this includes putting him in situations that people associate with the MC's love interest, and it is weird that, despite Izuku "having a girl" for people to make assumptions about, he seems to completely repulse any female character that could be the counter part to Izuku's.

And this made us wonder if Katsuki's placement in those roles and lack of interest was made specifically because the author precisely did not want the actions that both do for each other as romantic but a whole another thing entirely, as a subversion for the these classic tropes, as he did by making the conflict between Ochako and Himiko not a "rivals fighting for the affection of a boy" but something that is connected to the plot of these characters instead.

Oh you bet! I am always down to talk about this, because I think about it a lotttt.

This reminds me, recently I remembered a funny habit I used to have with books I read. Like, back in middle school. I used to start by flipping directly to the last page and reading the final sentence. Usually this did not spoil anything whatsoever, but sure enough, by the time I read through the whole book, that sentence would take on new meaning.

So I started musing about what it would be like if only I could do this with bnha, if everything was already out. It made me feel so nostalgic…

Will the last panel be something grand, or something small? Hopeful or sad? Distant? Intimate? A parting message to the reader? Will it look like almost nothing of consequence to the unknowing eye—yet burst with hard-hitting subtext?

Of course I wonder about all the twists and reveals that might be still ahead of us, but it’s kinda soothing to think about how the whole thing could be put to rest. Because then I realize I’m not worried.

For once, this is not because the story is following so many tropes so predictably that I know exactly, in so many words, how it will end. It’s more like the story is a close friend who I’ve gotten to know well enough that everything they do is so “them” it makes me smirk. I'm often marveling at how Horikoshi has managed to pull all this off. How is it that (at least here in the west) people who aren't really paying attention call it basic and cookie-cutter. Even a Japanese animator called it "classic," and this interview shows such obvious dissonance between Hori and the interviewer, just... wow. But it's so clear that bnha has broken just about every rule in the book at this point, so much so that I struggle to condense it into words. I'm like--*gestures broadly at everything*--why haven't more people picked up on it??

Yet we still get bombarded with people saying "it's a shonen, c'mon, we all know how this will end." Um. No you don't. I KNOW there has to be a bunch of people who are secretly frustrated by Kacchan taking up all the roles and getting all the moments. It's not even in a mysogynistic way, because Kacchan is the most anti-dudebro character imaginable. Bkdk's relationship isn't intended for them and they know it... and you know what, I'm starting to ramble. You've heard all this before. The thing I should really be focusing on in your ask is the part where you mentioned how you and your friend were speculating about bkdk ending up as "a whole other thing entirely" rather than simply romantic.

Well, fuck it, I've been biting my tongue, but now might as well be the time I talk about this. I got into a bit of a disagreement with someone over it once and then I shut up. Because it's very difficult to approach the subject without being lumped in with those people who see bkdk as "brotherly" (ew) or otherwise try to push some "crisis of male friendship" agenda, or at the very least without being accused of enabling people to make excuses against bkdk being canon ad infinitum. So let me be clear that I do NOT want bkdk to have an ambiguous or open ending. I want their complexity and importance to be acknowledged. I want them to use their words. I think we may have created a bit of a false dichotomy there.

I am aromantic, and to suggest romantic relationships are inherently the most important and intimate goes against every fiber of my being. I also reject the idea that cut-and-dry gay representation is more desirable just because it is more easily understood by the masses than aspec representation or representation of relationships "beyond" both romantic and platonic. We recognize how ridiculous it is for people to expect Izu*cha at this point, right? Well, the reason they're so confident anyway isn't just because of heteronormativity. It's also because of amatonormativity, the assumption that romantic attraction trumps all: no matter how much focus bkdk get, Izuku blushed at Ochako, so that automatically makes them more "important." THAT is the notion that I want to challenge most. More than anything, I want bkdk's relationship to be fully acknowledged because they have so much more going for them than just attraction.

You and your friend make an excellent point, that it would be very much in line with Horikoshi's taste and the patterns of his writing so far if he chose to subvert the shonen romance trope not just by giving it to two boys, but also by disregarding its premise entirely. It's unlikely he'd try to stuff them into such a copy-paste ending right at the end.

So maybe they won't get the blushy confession, the obligatory kiss, the wedding, the 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. That's fine, we shouldn't pretend those tired tropes are suddenly revolutionary just because they're gay. But don't be disappointed! Without them, we have more room for things that are actually personally meaningful to bkdk to stand out and receive the nuance they deserve: talking through their feelings openly, building each other up like no one else can, understanding each other like no one else can, smiling at each other, embracing, holding hands, rushing to the other in the hospital, being glued at the hip (or even closer), healing mutual trauma, putting each other first in all things. Maybe we'll also get confirmation on Ochako's side as she moves on from her crush on Izuku. You know what other shonen manga took this exact angle as a way of subverting tropes and presenting genuine complexity? Blue Flag! There are so many ways to do bkdk justice.

Even a kiss isn't out of the question, if the right opportunity comes along. A perfect example of what I'm talking about is Good Omens (major season 2 spoilers) because the kiss between Crowley and Aziraphale was not at all about canonizing them. It was an expression of pain and desperation that just made sense at that particular moment. Neil Gaiman was adamant that if it took that kiss to understand the context of their relationship, you really weren't paying attention. I respect the hell out of that.

Recently I was even daydreaming about bkdk getting something similar to the sort of uh, shall we say tasteful nudity, that togachako got, because of how Izuku appears in the vestige realm.

Ya know like not in an nsfw way but in like a "this is so deeply intimate and soft that I feel like I'm intruding" kind of way... yeah. Because it represents vulnerability and openness and acceptance of someone as they are. And I don't care if people call that bait. It's not. It's beautiful. It’s honest.

#asks #anon #lin answers #bnha manga #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudaku #bkdk #dekubaku #dkbk #aspec #queerplatonic

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tojisbbygworl · 5 months

Text

Congrats, Babe - Toji Fushiguro x Black!Reader ~ FFL Series

Summary: Toji couldn’t believe you actually invited him to your graduation. Watching you walk across that stage, his son in his arms, sitting next to your family, he couldn’t be happier. Toji - 24, You - 21, Megumi - 3

Characters: Toji, Megumi

Words: 4,239

Tags: Fluff (kinda sorta Tooth-Rotting), Soft Toji, Toji’s a Good Dad, Suggestive Thoughts, Crushes to Lovers

Disclaimer: This work is part of a Black!Reader x Toji series I started called Fushiguro Family Life. It's basically a slice of life series with you, Toji and Megumi. None of them are in order and can be read on their own unless stated otherwise.

AO3 Version

My AO3

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

author's note: Hiiiiii! Don't have much to say except I hope you all enjoy this. I feel like it's really cute and I think I'm doing pretty good on giving small insight on Megumi's personality, Toji's parenting, and what led to his divorce with Megumi's mother who I've decided will be named Ayano. Her name won't come up here but it will down the line. Toji's past will be revealed more and more as the series continues.

“Um, daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we going again?”

“A graduation.”

“Oh. What’s that?”

“It’s a ceremony.”

“Oh. What’s that?”

“Sigh…”

On a regular day, a simple drive with his son babbling about nothing in the backseat wouldn’t be so nerve wracking. However, today was a bit special.

Toji was genuinely shocked when you gave him your number after months of friendly flirting. He never actually expected to get anything from you, he was having too much fun watching you get frustrated. But, now that he thinks about it, you have been warming up to him for some time now. The two of you only ever talked at the gym. You went in only a couple of times a week, so he had to make every second count. And he may have purposely changed his availability so he would be there.

You hadn’t said yes to a date just yet, but he’s hoping it was only a matter of time. The two of you were becoming much closer with each other, sometimes spending hours just talking on the phone. Last night’s call was especially sweet. His ears have been heating up all morning from thinking about it. You were so excited about finally graduating, not having to worry about school for what may be the rest of your life, and starting your career. You were so ready for a steady income and to move out of your parents’ house. And it took everything within him to not suggest you move in with him instead of living on your own, as he knows how expensive it can get.

The journey to your graduation was a bit nerve wracking. He knew he’d be anxious when you invited both him and Megumi a week ago. A couple of family members hadn’t been able to make it, meaning Toji would be meeting and sitting down with those who could. Meeting the family before even one date. Unheard of.

He hadn’t even met his last wife’s family before marrying her. He can see how stupid of an idea that was now that they’re divorced. Imagine how much heartache he could have avoided had he done so.

After going through hell (finding parking) he lifts Megumi out of his car seat and takes his hand to follow the hordes of people heading to the auditorium. Looking at his tickets, Toji heads over to their assigned seats.

He sees a group of people who resemble you and deduces that it must be your family. At first he panics. He wonders if you told them about him coming or if he should even say anything. But, his question is answered when the older woman of the group taps his shoulder after sitting down. He guides Megumi to sit in the seat next to him, to which he simply refuses by putting his arms on his father’s lap and jumping to try and climb it. Toji rolls his eyes and lifts his son up.

“Are you the person my daughter Y/N invited? Toji?” She asks. Ah, so this was your mom. You don’t really look like her.

Toji puts on his charming smile and holds his hand out to her. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.” He gestures to the little boy on his lap. “This is my son, Megumi.”

Megumi, who’s usually shy, lifts a small hand up and waved at her, looking down and away nervously. Your mom twiddles her fingers which makes him smile. “Aw,” she says and reaches over to tickle his stomach. Megumi giggles and kicks his feet. Toji jerks his head back in shock.

“Is this Toji?” He hears.

Your mother turns to the man sitting next to her and nods. “Mhm. And this is his son.” Megumi gets nervous again and his smile drops, but he does give a small wave. The man waves back and looks up at Toji. He holds his hand out. Now you do look like him. This must be your father.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Toji shakes his hand and says the same. The other two look over at the commotion and smile. Toji waves at them. Megumi hides his head in his shirt.

“Hi! You’re Toji?” One of them asked. She looks to be around the same age as you and sounds like it too. In fact, so does the boy sitting next to her. “I’m Kennedy. This is my brother. We’re Y/N’s cousins.”

“It’s really nice to meet you,” he said after introducing himself as Kwame. “She talks about you all the damn time.”

Toji’s smile freezes and he rubs the back of his neck. “She does?”

Everyone nods and starts going on and on about how much you gush about him. Up until he accepted your invitation, he was known as, “the fine ass gym owner”, a statement that made him blush even harder. However, it was nice knowing how you truly felt about him. It’s not as if you would ever admit to having a crush in front of his face.

He was a bit shocked. Yeah, you flirted back with him from time to time, but you didn’t actually like him, right? It was just…friendly banter. Right?

Some time passed before the lights in the auditorium dimmed and the graduation music began to play. As much as Toji loves that you asked him to come and as excited as he is to see you, it was extremely boring. The only reason he was awake was the clapping from various families. Didn’t bother Megumi, though. He was fast asleep in his father’s lap. Thank goodness, too. Megumi hated staying still if he didn’t have anything to distract him. It was something Toji was working on with him. He’d be getting somewhere with it, and then Megumi would go see his mother and it’s as if she pushed some sort of reset button and he was asking for Toji’s phone again.

Toji was feeling a bit anxious. Your name hadn’t been called yet, and even when it was, there were still hundreds of other students after you. It’s only a matter of time until-

Feeling a stirring on his chest, Toji tears his eyes away from his phone to look into his lap. Megumi was twisting back and forth into his shirt. He did this a few times before sitting up and rubbing his eyes with a yawn. “Shit.” Toji whispered to himself.

As if it’s a homing beacon, Megumi twisted his head to his father’s hand where his phone was being held. He reached out for it, becoming irritated when Toji put it in his pocket. Megumi looked up at him begrudgingly while Toji stared back. Crap. Megumi was a good kid overall, but he was still just a kid. He really didn’t want to have to leave because he started crying, and he also didn’t want to give Megumi the phone. Well, he would have to make a decision soon, because Megumi’s chest was heaving and getting worse with every passing second. His eyes grew big and sparkly, his bottom lip started to poke out, ahh shit.

Like an angel in disguise, your mother leaned over his lap and smiled at Megumi. “Did your daddy make you mad?” Toji’s jaw drops then drops even more when Megumi actually nods.

“Aw, come here baby,” she holds her hands out and lifts him into her lap when he reaches for her. “Don’t cry, hm?”

“Don’t you want to watch your friend graduate?” As if Megumi knows what graduate even means, he nods his head again. Toji is appalled. She flips him around and points to the stage where you had actually just gotten to the stairs. “Look. It’s Y/N.”

Megumi doesn’t know who she is either, he hadn’t met her yet. But still, he looks around for a face he does recognize, and Toji takes this chance to talk to her. “How…how did…”

“Hold on, she’s about to walk,” she shushes him. Toji turns his head back towards the stage where he sees you standing at the top. He sees your black and blue cap and gown, your decorated neck, and the bright smile on your face and lights up. He adjusts his posture.

You begin to walk and Toji takes notice of your heels. Your legs and feet look fantastic in them. He wondered what dress you were wearing underneath all that. He knows it looks great on you.

Your name is called, and he joins your family in a round of applause. Even Megumi starts clapping. Toji decides to throw in a whistle, laughing to himself when you turn to the crowd in confusion. You try to look for him in the crowd to no avail, but you smile anyway and walk off.

Toji leans back in his seat, still reveling in your smile, but stops when he feels some eyes on him. He turns to look at your mother who was giving him a stare he couldn’t read. Megumi was successfully distracted. He was counting on his fingers. Hopefully the number was 1000.

“So,” she starts, “how long until you’re ready to put a ring on her finger?”

After a second of choking on his own spit, Toji responds. “I’m-what?”

“What comes after 19?” Megumi asks.

“20,”Answers your mother.

“Oh.” He puts one more finger up. Afterwards, he puts all of his fingers back down and starts again. “What comes after that?”

“21.”

“…Oh!” And he starts silently counting again while mouthing the words to himself.

She looks back up at Toji who was waiting patiently for an explanation. “Well, now that she’s a graduate and is entering a sustainable career, I think she’s more than qualified to be a wife. Don’t you?”

Toji blushes profusely. His heart runs a mile a minute. He doesn’t know what to say or think. Is that why she’s been so nice and talkative to him? She thinks they’re dating? What have you told her?

She was anticipating his answer. Megumi was halfway through his 20s. “Uhm…I mean…yes, but…I think you might have the wrong idea.”

She leans back and gets a wistful look on her face. “Ah, I see,” she says. “You want to wait until the right moment and all of that. Well, I say the right moment is now, but that’s just me I guess.”

Toji’s mouth hasn’t closed for the entire interaction. She doesn’t acknowledge him at all. Just goes back to telling Megumi what numbers come after what.

After the ceremony, you all meet up outside and wait for your arrival. Toji decides not to bring up what happened in the auditorium. It was a little awkward, but mostly, he kind of likes the idea that your mother thinks the two of you are dating. No one else has said anything, however. Maybe it’s just your mother being a bit ridiculous.

Megumi, who’s still being held by her, taps her shoulder. “Is that her?” He asks while pointing.

They all look in the same direction and lo and behold, there you were. Your gown was unzipped showing off your beautiful white dress that stopped at your thighs and hugged your curves. It showed only a bit of your cleavage and left a lot to Toji’s very active imagination. Your makeup was stunning, and you had texted him earlier today saying that you did it yourself. You did an amazing job. Your Cajun spice locks framed your face beautifully. You told him you wanted your hair to be blonde so you stopped staining your new growth after bleaching it. Your cap was hiding the blonde. He would have loved to see it.

Your beautiful smile filled his heart, and he found himself gravitating towards you, even getting in front of your family. Your smile grew even bigger as you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in it. He did the same to you and squeezed you closer by your waist.

“Congrats, babe.”

“Thank you Toji. I’m so glad you came.” He rocks you back and forth before pulling away.

“Of course we came.” Your face lights up and you look at your family. You hug and kiss them all, your mother being last. She puts Megumi down to hug you tightly. Toji sees a tear run down her cheek. He looks at Megumi, expecting him to come running back, but he just stands there and looks up at you while holding your mother’s pants.

“Have you met Megumi, yet?” Your mother asks you, putting her hand behind his back and nudging him in front of her.

“No,” you answer, crouching down to speak to him. “Hi Megumi. I’m Y/N.”

Megumi smiled shyly and waved at you. “You’re very pretty. I see why my dad likes you so much!”

“Megumi!” Toji reaches for his hand and picks him up while blushing. Kennedy and Kwame giggle off to the side. Your father was too busy trying to record you to notice what he had said. You cover your mouth and look at him. He knew you were laughing underneath your hand.

“Okay!” Your dad put his phone away after looking at the time. “We have to get going before traffic gets bad and we end up late.”

As if he pressed a button, your whole family jumped into action. Toji looked at you in confusion as you walked up to him. “What’s going on?”

“We’re throwing a graduation party,” you explain. Sheepishly, you rub your ear. “I…wasn’t sure if you wanted to come to that too. It’s mostly going to be family and I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable-.”

“I’d love to come!” He says a bit too excitedly. He clears his throat afterwards. “I’d love to come.”

Your beam made his heart pound. “Okay! I’ll send u the address.” You approached him and put your hand on his arm. His palms became sweaty and he had no clue what you were trying to do, but he was prepared for anything. Especially a kiss.

Unfortunately, you weren’t trying to do that. Instead, you tickled Megumi’s tummy making him giggle sweetly. “Are you okay with that?” You asked while looking at the baby boy.

Megumi nodded enthusiastically. “I love parties!” He shouted.

“Yay! You’ll have so much fun. There’s going to be a kids room, okay?” Megumi nods even more. You take out your phone, send Toji the address, then turn to catch up with your family. Toji continues to watch the back of your head longingly. He’s knocked out of his trance when you turn to look at him. “Come on. We’re going to the parking garage.”

Toji blinks and gulps. That’s right. He could walk you to your car. “Coming.”

Toji pulls up to the banquet hall 30 minutes later. Your family had made it a few minutes before, but were all already inside having a time. Getting out of the car, Toji looked around. There were a lot of cars and even more pulling up. Whole families getting out and rushing to the doors, some of them with gifts. Toji’s throat dries up. He thinks he’ll keep his gift in the car.

When he walks inside with his son, it’s clear that he is a fish out of water. There was a large dancefloor already housing hoards of people. He nervously looked around for someone he recognized, and got even more nervous as the seconds went by. He looked at Megumi, who was getting more and more nervous by the second.

He began walking inside with no clear direction. Some children ran past his legs, which captured Megumi’s attention. They took a second to stop and look at the large man that they had never seen before, then went right back to playing. Toji watches them run to the other side of the building and go through a door. Toji wonders if that’s the kid’s area you were talking about. Then, a couple more children run past the doorway, with an adult chasing after them. He’ll assume the answer is yes.

Upon walking through the door, he finds himself in a hallway. It’s a long corridor, but right on the wall opposite to the party, there was an open door. He could see from the cartoon paintings on the wall, the bright colors, the puzzle piece mat, and the sound from within that this was his destination. When walking in, he gained many stares from the various kids inside. He grew worried for Megumi who had his hand over his mouth staring nervously at the crowd of kids. He was gripping Toji’s shirt tightly. He knew his little heart was beating a mile a minute.

Toji pulled his son to the front of him. “Hey,” he tells him. “You’re gonna be brave for daddy, right?” The boy shakes his head. Toji shifts his jaw and sighs. “Come on, Megumi. I’ll…” he squeezes his lips together and his eyes shut, not wanting to have to bribe his son. “I’ll get you pizza and ice cream tomorrow. We can have it for breakfast.”

It didn’t excite him, but it did the job. Megumi nodded his head and let his father put him on the floor. “Of course,” Toji whispered under his breath. He watches Megumi shyly walk up to some younger kids around his age, talking about nothing and playing with blocks. They watch him sit down then go back to playing. Megumi looks back at his dad who gives him a smile and a thumbs up. The boy takes a second, turns back around and reaches for a block. Then, one kid decides to hand one to him. Then another. Soon, Megumi’s being offered blocks galore. Toji feels a warmth growing inside him along with relief. He fit right in. And, maybe he’ll forget about that promise.

“Well that seemed to work quite well, huh?” Says a familiar voice from behind him. Toji turns around to face you. Your cap and gown was off just leaving you in your stunning dress. Your skin looked so smooth, and your hair was even more beautiful than before now that he can see it in its full glory. You never failed to take his breath away.

He clears his throat, checks back on Megumi once more, then follows you back out into the hall. The door leading to the party was closed so the children wouldn’t run into it so easily, and they wouldn't be disturbed in the play room. Despite the blasting music, it blocked off the sound pretty well. “You heard that, huh?” He laughs. “Yeah, it always seems to work. Sometimes he forgets so it still works out in my favor.”

You let out your adorable giggle. “I wasn’t aware that you were so conniving.” You tease.

“You haven’t seen nothing yet, doll.” Toji gives you a sideways grin and leans towards you with his hands in his pockets. You’re beaming with your fingers covering your mouth.

You push his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Can’t say. Kids around.”

“Excuse you?”

“You should push me again.”

“I probably will. You always give me a reason to.”

“Can it be because I like when you touch me?”

“Toji!” You exclaim quietly, looking around to make sure no one was in the hallway to hear him. He was giving you the most shit-eating grin. He reveled in making you flustered.

“What?” He feigns, leaning even closer towards you. He gives your face a good once over. Then he looks down at your lips. They look so soft and so full. He just wants to know how they feel on his skin. On his lips. On his-

“Oh my gosh!” You gasp and grab his arm, knocking him out of his trance. “This is my favorite song!” You grab him and run to open the doors, dragging him onto the dancefloor that’s become even more crowded.

Toji’s feeling a whirlwind of emotions. But nothing compares to you throwing him forward and getting in front of him. Your back faced towards him and before you started dancing, you turned your torso to look at him. “Put your arms on my waist.” You yell.

He blinks. “What?” He’s sure he didn’t hear you correctly over the loud music.

“Your arms,” you repeat. You take his hands and put them on your lower torso. “Just catch my whine, okay?”

And he does. And he does it well. You start to move your waist slowly. You’re barely touching him, but he still feels hot all over. He really is perfect. He’s not grinding against you, but he’s not letting you go either. He squeezes you, which pleases you immensely. Both of you feel amazing in the other’s presence. As if you’re the only two there.

All good things must come to an end. The song, the dance, and eventually, his time at the party. It was getting late. He had to get Megumi home. After what you pulled, Toji didn’t even bother to fix the boyfriend allegations. He wondered how awkward that would be. For you to dance so sensually on a man you weren’t with in front of your family. He’s sure they wouldn’t appreciate that. And there were so many people asking him about it. It would be a headache to correct all of them every single time.

Even then, he had a lot of fun. He enjoyed spending time with you and your family, despite how awkward he could get. And you - oh, you. Your eyes didn’t leave him all night. He thought he was imagining things. But when the clock passed 10, and he told you he had to leave, you eagerly followed him to grab Megumi. Him, amongst other children, were asleep. Toji picked him up and carried him outside.

“Good thing you’re walking little ol’ me to my car.” He whispers once they get out. “I wanted to give you something but I was afraid you wouldn’t have anywhere to put them for the time being.” Toji walks around to Megumi’s seat and sits him down safely. He was still sound asleep. He would have been confused, if it wasn’t for the food stains around his mouth and on his shirt. He’ll be asleep until next week. “And I…was nervous and couldn’t think of a good time.”

“Aw, you didn’t have to get me anything.” You assure him. Toji shushes you before strapping him inside. Once he does, he picks up a gigantic bouquet of white flowers, walks back around the car, and gives them to you.

You gasp. “Oh, Toji.” You appreciated all the presents you got, but this was all you really wanted. Something simple and cute that still showed that whoever gave it to you was thinking fondly of you. And they were your favorite.

You accept them graciously. For a few seconds, you and Toji just look at each other. He’s overwhelmed with pride and joy for you. You really graduated today. You achieved something great. Something that he was never able to do. He admires you so much. Not just your looks, but your brain and personality. In his eyes you were…perfect.

Today went just the way you wanted it to. You got to celebrate your achievement with the people you truly cared about. And you did care for Toji. You think it’s about time he knew that.

So, you grab his shoulder, pull him towards you, stand on the balls of your feet and give him a smooch right in his left cheek. You hear his small gasp and it makes your heart run. You began to sweat a bit. The nerve of you, to kiss him like that. He looks genuinely shocked and you almost begin to regret what you did, until he takes his arm and wraps it around your waist before you can pull away. Toji breathes harder and harder as he stares longingly at your parted lips. Then, he finally leans down and kisses you for the first time.

For a moment, your hearts feel as though they’re beating as one. The kiss is tender and filled with need. Toji is steady pushing your head backwards as he deepens it. When he realizes what he’s doing, he stops abruptly and pulls away. You both continue to stare in each other’s eyes as you catch your breath.

Despite his dry mouth, Toji swallows. “I-I’m sorry,” he begins. “I just…I…”

He had seen you smile a lot today, but the one that spreads across your cheeks was the brightest by far. Everything, every anxious thought and insecure feeling he had washes away. “No. It’s okay. I liked it.”

Absolutely perplexed, Toji let’s out a sound of disbelief. He tries to keep from smiling, but he can’t help it. “You did?”

And you nod. Eagerly.

Ever the rascal, Toji gives you his signature side grin and brings your body closer to him. “You want another one?”

His chagrin makes you burst into a fit of laughter and you throw your arms around his neck, smacking the flowers onto his back. Filled with joy, Toji fully wraps both of his arms around you and lifts you up, twirling you around.

And from inside, a couple of your baby cousins watch the adorable scene. One of the older ones took many pictures to show everyone later on. “I told you that was her boyfriend.”

ending a/n: Let me know what y'all think! I love hearing yall's opinions. And I mayyyyy be open to taking requests. I have many idead already, but I want to see what y'all can think of. Okay byeeeeeeee!!! Taglist for the next story is open.

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ellaa-writes · 7 months

Text

Good Dög

authors note: Part 2, part 1 here. In the same Universe as The Beast Within series. Can't wait to expanded the world more. But anyways, enjoy! :) (wow did not notice i reached 200 followers!)

summary: His favourite words include; down boy, good dog, heel, fetch and his most favourite, get 'em. Well trained, and listens good. Loyal through and through. Always striving to be the absolute best. Ready to attack at all times, always on guard. Loves discipline, either giving or receiving. Working for a criminal mastermind, lurking in the shadows. You both trying not to be seen or noticed but after one unlucky night, all you both can see are the ghosts. He invades your life, if you both like it or not.

tags: Alternative Universe. A/b/o dynamics. Female reader. Lots of trauma in this one. Mentions of a dead body. Mentions of weapons, self defense. Reader has a panic attack. Simon saves the day once again. Slightly stalking Simon. not proof read

Two weeks passed since that fateful night at the corner store. Your days were filled with nightmares, and those eyes and that voice were always there to save you. Too pull you back into the light, always waking up with your heart pounding.

The police realeased your belonging back to you, you didn't bother telling anyone. If you did they would just urge you to seek out help, to talk to someone. But you can't afford that right now, you were already overworking yourself trying to save up enough money to move out of this hell hole.

Two weeks and not a word from him, Simon. You laid awake most mornings and nights, wondering what he was doing and if he thought about you to.

You felt silly for thinking that, sure Beta and Alpha relationships were common. Hell your parents were in a Beta/Alpha relationship. But you always felt unworthy, never meeting someone that sparked your interest as much as that Alpha did.

You had a few days off, only because the law required it. But if it was up to your employer you would have been working today.

You decided to get out of your apartment, to go for a walk, to try and not thinking about the cold steel on your throat and that evil smile. Anytime it crept into your mind you would wipe it away. Shove it back down with all the other shit you refused to face.

It was a beautiful day in the city, lucky for you it was a weekend. People littered the streets, groups walking together and chatting. The restaurants had their patios open, only if you had friends you thought. You'd be out there, drinking your fancy drink, eating your fancy food and smiling and laughing. Reminiscing about the good ol' days, but you had none of that. Instead you watched from a far, wishing that one day you'd wake up in a new body, new life.

But that never got you far. You've always been a keep your head down and don't stay for long type of gal. Having been alone in this world for longer than you remember not being.

You lost your mother young, and your dad left all together. Not wanting to raise a child by himself, being a single widowed father. Instead he forgot about you and met someone else. Started a new family, one where you weren't in the picture.

Living in foster care after foster care, until your turned of age and was pushed out into this unforgiving world.

You found yourself staring at the people, laughing and enjoying their time. You were staring for too long, sometimes lost in your own world. Taking your eyes off the people out on the patio, you began casing things out.

Since the accident, you've been on edge more. Keeping a small pocket knife on you at all time, and a can of bear mace. As regular mace wouldn't take down a drugged up Alpha.

As you were looking around you noticed something, or someone. The eyes that haunted your dreams, staring at you from across the street. The same eyes and voice from the corner store.

It couldn't be, you must be imagining it. That feeling of uneasiness creeping up from spine, your brain telling you to run. So you did, you spun around and decided this was a bad idea. Leaving your apartment was stupid. Mentally beating yourself up as you sped walked down the block. Trying to get as much distance between you and those eyes.

They didn't scare you, not intentionally. But you were seeing things, they weren't real. Taking a short cut through the back alley, not wanting to waste anymore time. You were too much in your own head, speeding down the desolate alley, not noticing the fast approaching footsteps behind you.

All you felt was the hands grabbing your arm, and in an instant you were spun around. Your bear mace in hand ready to spray at the intruder. But before you could it was knocked out of your hand. Flying into the brick wall beside you.

And there he was, Simon. It was real, you did see him. "You could kill someone like that." you snapped at him. Picking up your now busted can of bear spray. Hoping you can get another one soon. "Plan on using that on anyone?" he asked. His voice just as husky as the first time you heard it. Your heart skipped a beat, holding in the breath you just took, your core getting tingly.

"Well not anymore." you huffed, shoving the broken can into your bag. "Had anymore run ins?" he asked, noticing the small knife next to the can. "No." you were shuffling on your feet. Not wanting to be here anymore. "Just precaution." you explained.

You hated the way he was looking at you, his head tilted. He was judging you, noticing things about you that even you didn't.

The tenseness in your body, the way you were constantly looking around you, how you held your bag tight to your body. Your quick movements and that look in your eyes. The one he knew so well, the same look he'd have often.

You looked like a lost doe, eyes frantic and legs wobbly. He pitied you, knowing the inner battle raging on inside of you. One that he wish he could take away.

"How have ya been holdn' up?" he asked. Stupid question he thought. He knew from just looking at you, that if a big gust of wind were to come you'd crumble like a dry leaf in autumn.

"I uhhh-" you didn't know what to say. Do you lie to him now? "I'm getting by." you replied. Knowing that didn't fully answer his question.

You were running, not psychically but mentally. Your movements becoming more frantic, your eyes wide with fear, the lost doe cornered and trying to find a way out.

Simon knew this, as he felt it often. He did the only thing he could think of, and he wasn't sure if it was even going to work. He purred, he never purred before. Not even sure if he was doing the damn thing right, but it was pure Alpha instinct. A female in stress can sore the nose, the smell permeating far. Letting everyone know, it was old basic biology, things have evolved since then.

The purr was deep and low, sounding like a bike engine off in the distance. As he slowly stepped closer to you, making sure his shoulder were laxed and his scent enclosing around you like a bubble.

You didn't know what was happening, you felt the tightness in your chest. You began struggling to breath, wanting to dive into the garbage bin and hide. To scream, cry, kick and bite. All these emotions coursing through your body, you hands shaking. Trying to grip onto your arms, hugging yourself tight. Rubbing you neck against your shoulder. Trying anything to make this feeling go away.

Simon wrapped you in his arms, pushing your head into his chest. That's when you finally heard it, the low purring coming from it. It soothed you, making you feel like a pup being cradled by its father.

He held you tight to his chest, enclosing both of you in a bubble of his scent. Blocking out all other noise and smells. His juvenile attempt at consoling you were working, you began sucking in even and deep breaths. The tightness in your chest and back relaxing, you unwrapped your arms from yourself and wrapped them around Simon.

If you were anyone else and this was any other moment he'd he ripping your limbs off. But it was you.

The nights he'd spend wide awake, thinking about you. Everytime he closed his eyes he'd see your dead lifeless body, your dead soulless eyes staring back up at him. He couldn't sleep the first time, he had to make sure you were alright. Sneaking into a vacant apartment across the street, just to make sure she was alright, he told himself.

But it was nightly, then daily. Ignoring his own work to watch night and day. Making sure nothing could or would happen to you. He didn't know what got into himself, why he had these strong feelings towards you. What made you so special.

What made you different from the rest, you haunted him night and night out. And you were alive, so why does he keep seeing your dead body everywhere he turns.

His boss noticed he'd been quiter than normal, which is saying a lot for him. A conversation he had while sitting in his bosses office one night. He use to hate the man, seeing him as enemy number one. Making it his dying mission to take him down, to take him out.

But when shit hit the fan, and Simon was sent to prison. His years of decidated and hard work went down the drain, along with his life. He was a walking reminder, the people he considered close some even close enough to be family, all cut him off. Discarding him like he was yesterday's trash.

The man across from him in the office, sitting on the stiff leather chair. The man that went by König, he was the only one that was their for him. When he was realeased from prison, he was their at the gate. Leaning up against a black sports car. Simon thought he was dead, everyone at least still thinks he is.

He gave Simon an offer, a too good to be true offer. Turning it down, vowing to never cross that line. To go over to the other side. But after finding out that no one gave a shit, that him going to prison didn't change anything. Him taking the fall and paying the price. Just to have them all act like he never existed. So he didn't.

Death by fire, he found it fitting. He felt like his whole existence was flawed, the moment his mother became knocked up with him. A bastard growing in her belly. She left him like the rest did.

But what made you so special, it was a question that he didn't know if he'd ever get an answer to.

For two whole weeks he couldn't shake you. Lying too himself that he wasn't stalking you, that when you were gone for work, that he wasn't breaking into your place. To make sure the windows were sealed and the smoker detector wasn't low on batteries. He even fixed the buzzing from your fridge, something you did notice but chalked it up to old appliances.

If he knew any better he'd say he was infatuated with you.

With you still wrapped in his arms he brought you back to your apartment. Using your key to unlock your door, carrying you into your bedroom. Setting you down and wrapping you up. "I'll be back." he told you. Leaving for only a moment, coming back with a bag of hot food.

It was late in the night when he finally left. You were tucked into bed, everything locked and secured. He didn't like the idea of leaving you alone, but he'd be right cross the street. Having rented out the space after squatting in it for a few days. Paying for two rents wasn't ideal, but in his mind it was only tempory.

You guys talked for hours, you telling him about your past in foster care. How you saved up everything you could to move here and get this place. Only for you to now do the same so you could get out.

You told him about your dream to live out on the country side, to live a small village. To have a farm, yellow house and maybe a few pups running around. But how that dream seemed to slip away faster and faster everyday.

As he settled into postion, on the weathered chair at the window. Watching people flow in and out of the street below. His mind asked the same question it always did when he found himself in this spot. Why you? What was so special about you. But now he also thought about how he wanted to give you, your dream.

The yellow house, the farm to look after and of course the one thing he never would have wanted or thought of wanting....pups.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #Simon ghost riley #Simon riley #Cod ghost #Ghost mw2 #Ghost mwii #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #a/b/o dynamics #Alpha Simon riley #Tagging #König #Cause he was mentioned lol

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howtofightwrite · 10 months

Note

Does Ser Arys Oakheart’s performance in The Queenmaker in AFFC (killing a handful of men and jumping clear of his palfrey before being swiftly dispatched by Areo Hotah) suggest a decent amount of martial competence on Arys’ part, in your view?

I’m going to make George R.R. Martin fans angry again and say, no. However, this is because I don’t feel any of Martin’s characters (throughout his work) really demonstrate any degree of martial competence. A lot of Martin’s characters aren’t supposed to possess any martial competence, but even the ones who are meant to don’t have it. Their “martial competence” is roughly the equivalent of action figures being angrily smashed together. For me, his fight scenes/battle scenes are the weakest part of his writing and I tune them out. Martin heavily focuses on “ironic” surprises and subversions of expectations like in the scene with Arys Oakheart, where everything is going well and then the character is just randomly and unceremoniously offed.

Boom. Goodbye.

“Like they would be in real life!”

I’m going to imagine someone yelling that because I’m sure someone, somewhere wants to.

Look, unlike Starke, I read A Feast for Crows and I genuinely have no memory of this character. They have been memory holed. They are gone. (Which is wild because I remember random minor character deaths from a lot of other major and minor fantasy properties that I read as a tween ages ago.)

The thing about reality is that real people are also capable of the following: Strategic and tactical awareness, long term strategic planning, working in unison with their fellow soldiers, and, yes, that includes knights in the Middle Ages. Knights in the Middle Ages might’ve (sometimes) been wealthy bastards, but they had to be functionally aware of violence and its impacts or they weren’t knights for very long.

Martin does not understand how armies and professional combatants function, their purpose, or their place in maintaining order in a feudal society. The irony is that politics are not his forte. His combat sequences read like they were written by someone who spent a great deal of time reading original historical accounts and not enough time thinking from the perspective of the people committing those gruesome atrocities. Make no mistake, medieval warfare was far, far more gruesome than anything you’ll find in Game of Thrones and the most terrifying part is the reasoning behind those atrocities was actually sound. Once you’re past the shock value, GOT is fairly comforting because the majority of the time no one makes sense. There’s a moral lesson hidden in the undercurrent ready to bludgeon the audience when they least expect it and all the violence works from that perspective, and all of it is written very specifically with the audience’s reaction in mind. Martin doesn’t seem to care how it works both on the technical front or in the utilization of violence to deliver narrative catharsis, he cares how the audience will react.

His violence doesn’t feel good, which is his intention, he doesn’t want it to feel good, but it also doesn’t feel bad. The violence just sort of exists.

One of the pieces of tragedy that is fundamentally important is a sense of foreboding. In fiction, death flags aren’t necessarily bad. In a tragedy, they’re necessary. Character death doesn’t need to be surprising to be meaningful. In fact, death is often more meaningful when the audience knows it’s coming. Whether it’s because they want the character to die or because they don’t want them to die. Their death creates narrative catharsis. The catharsis releases the tension, it feels good. Satisfaction through tears. When the audience and the narrative knows death is coming, it creates tension. If you invest early, the tension builds, and builds, and builds until it pops. The trouble is that, one way or another, the author has to invest in the character for that to happen. The surprise can be how the character dies, the manner of their death, and even who kills them, but not the fact they die. Shock value is sudden. The reason to use shock sparingly is that it lacks a lasting payout and eventually the audience acclimates. Too much shock obfuscates the narrative importance of a character’s death and shortens the long term impact of their loss. The impact of the death ends up as sudden as the death itself. Here, then gone, then forgotten.

In a well-structured tragedy, it doesn’t matter whether the audience cares about the character who dies or not. It helps, but the focus of the impact is on how it affects the other characters, how that loss is felt, and the way it’s internalized. An observation that’s always stuck with me is when I was in college studying Shakespeare, and my professor told us that Shakespeare structured his tragedies and his comedies the same way. They’re the same until the fourth act, and it’s the characters’ decisions leading into the final crisis which ultimately decides whether the story will end happily or tragically. All Shakespeare’s characters are important cogs in his play (including the bear.) When one of them goes, the narrative and the characters feel it. If a character is never important to the story, then the impact of their loss can’t be felt.

Martin’s characters don’t fight smart. They don’t fight cleverly. They don’t really fight stupid either. They fight with the combined equivalent of a single brain cell failing to function harmoniously. Probably the standout sequence for me that demonstrates this point is the Battle of the Crab from House of the Dragon. They had two dragons, a beach, an isolated cave system where their enemies were hiding to get away from the fire. They had corpses, and they had tar. And what didn’t they do?

Set shit on fire.

Smoke. Cave. Smoke. Cave. Smoke. Cave. Smoke.

The easiest and most low energy plan in the world that should be obvious to anyone who has ever cooked in an enclosed space. While this is a great way to signal that your characters suck at warfare, the characters involved were supposed to be the ones good at it! People being burned alive as they got smoked out of a cave is more gruesome than what actually happened and would have demonstrated the power of the dragons a lot better. Instead of, you know, the mighty House Targaryen being outwitted by… a cave.

If the dangers of dragons could be mitigated by a cave, people would just live in caves and not castles like they do on Pern.

Thank you for listening to my fanwank.

(No, the presence of saltwater would not have, in fact, saved the pirates. However, the Targaryens could have tarred the driftwood, set it ablaze, and let the tide carry it inside in addition to setting fire at every entrance like real military tacticians. Which shouldn’t be a reach given that half the army was made up of sailors.)

(They could’ve also used the crabbed up bodies for this with the added bonus of it being extremely horrifying, smelly, and gross.)

(We’re not talking about the Crab Army.)

(I mean it!)

-Michi

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#house of the dragon #game of thrones #literary analysis #how to fight write #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #michi answers

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silaswritesthings · 4 months

Note

MORE SCARA X YANDERE! FEM! READER OLEASE‼️‼️

Summary: You wish you could wish Wanderer a happy birthday but how could you without revealing the extensive research you performed on his background to be able to possess sensitive information such as his birthdate?

Starring: Wanderer/Scaramouche

Genre: Yandere,

Warnings: stalking, reader is a Yandere

Author’s note: i get really happy when i get asks so thank you sm!! I would’ve posted this yesterday but life happens. Enjoy!!

Word count: 1.3k

A good book remains a good book whether it’s displayed before the eyes of the most respected curators of the world or among millions of books in a local library. To you, Wanderer was a good book. He was an arrangement of words and colours, brought together to form his masterpiece that he kept hidden under pages of silence and mystery.

There was nobody who knew of him who felt like they knew enough, and among those people was you; who knew the most about him but not enough. It would never be enough.

“What will it be this time?” Wanderer said from beside you. “Psychology, true crime or crime fiction?”

You wanted to be a bit greedy, to keep him in a decorative box in your room only for your eyes to see. Why? Because Wanderer was beautiful; beautiful in the way he handed you your library books as you checked them out like he was giving you treasures beyond human imagination. He was beautiful in the way he spoke about various things he’s read about, sometimes his voice would lull you into a trance during the entirety of his rants about the lack of historical accuracy in fiction, and you would hang onto every single one of his words until the sudden snap of his fingers bring you back to reality.

He was too perfect, therefore Wanderer was uncontainable. So much that you wished to contain him. For the time being, you could only do that by taking pictures of him while he wasn’t looking.

“Surprise me.” You said after feigning contemplation. You leaned against the shelf behind you and waited to see what he would do next.

He narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“But I want to extend my reading palate.” You challenged. He watched you for a second and another before sighing and asking you to follow him and so you did.

Upon your arrival in another library section, Wanderer had presented you with two recommendations; with one book in each hand he began to explain the contents of both books.

His voice was quiet, as expected since you were in a library, but you did not miss the way his voice would lower whenever someone walked by. You noticed a long time ago that Wanderer was a very private person but you didn't think there was anything wrong with your display of affection, it was only admiring someone with limited boundaries. He did, however, have rather strict boundaries and you knew there must be some you've violated or crossed by now, you've been stalking him… No, you've been watching him. Admiring him. You like him so you're more observant with him than with others, because he's interesting. Is this how he sees it as well?

“The latter sounds very interesting.” You said, after he concluded his explanation, pushing down your moral dilemma. He hummed in acknowledgment and pushed the book against your chest as he walked past you to return to the front of the library, but just before your shoulders brushed he paused, regarding you with a gaze you couldn't perceive.

“Are you free this evening?”

Your heart leaped to your throat and you were unable to think of an appropriate reply; I always have time for you- no, that sounds too desperate. What about ‘time with you is time well spent’- no, that's too artificial!

“Yes- I mean- sure, yeah.” You glared at the ground because your anxiety was very easy to pick up on. Your thoughts shifted from your embarrassment to the pressure on your chest decreasing, Wanderer had let go of the book and was making his way to the front of the library. His ears were bright red and you wished you hadn't forgotten your camera at home that morning.

________

Pictures of Wanderer in various places and scenarios were scattered all over your bedroom walls, each picture was surrounded by at least two sticky notes with your thoughts and observations concerning the picture written down in the neatest handwriting you could muster.

There was the picture of Wanderer when he first started working at the library, his shoulders were sunken as if there was an invisible force weighing him down. The two notes accompanying this picture pointed out how this was a week after he moved here, and the fatui were rumoured to have increased their activity because they were in search of someone.

You scanned a few other shots from that day, the urge to just watch the original surveillance video from the day was difficult to overcome. Not Nearly as difficult as it was to gather all the information you had on Wanderer, from how he had been running from the fatui: a Snezhnayan organisation deeply rooted in the political and economic systems of various nations, to how he was of inazuman origins and closely related to the Raiden Shogun- but you didn't know how. Not yet, at least.

Your wondering thoughts halted when you came across a picture you took the previous week; Wanderer looking directly into the camera with an irritated expression. You couldn’t fight off your smile, it was the first time you had taken a picture of him with his consent and this was progress. You treasured this picture because it was evidence of how far your relationship with him had come. Will he allow you to take more pictures of him like this? Or even better, will he open up to you about his past soon?

Speak of the devil, your phone rang and when the screen flashed on, the caller ID belonged to Wanderer and so you picked up.

“Hello?”

“Is there anything you’re allergic to?” No time for formalities, this was the Wanderer you knew and loved.

“Not any that I know of.”

“Great, then let’s agree to meet in 40 minutes.” Wanderer said, but you knew this was only him being considerate of you- or at least you assumed as much, because you could hear the hum of various conversations in the background. He definitely wasn’t home.

“That’s perfect,” you said, but your voice had quieted as you scanned his pictures in your room. How would he react if he found out about this… quality of yours? Would he be upset? Would he hate you? Those possibilities could scare anyone, but you’ve found yourself being drawn to all of Wanderers reactions whether good or bad. What you really disliked was no reactions from him at all- or perhaps dislike was too strong a word; could you really dislike anything about him?

Your gaze shifted to a picture you contemplated burning because of how terrible it looked, you had taken it in a rush but despite the terrible quality, it grew on you just because it was Wanderer. There was no need for better reasoning, that was more than enough.

Wanderer’s voice had softened when it filtered through the previously quiet line. “What’s on your mind?”

You hummed as you mulled over your response, “I’m just wondering if there was any special reason you wanted to hang out today.” By now, your attention had shifted to the middle of the wall beside your door where you had stuck a note written in bold black letters ‘3rd of Jan’: his birthday. Today. He hadn’t told anyone the real date of his birth, probably because he was trying to hide his previous identity as ‘the balladeer’ but no Information about him would ever be out of reach for you.

“There’s no special reason,” he mumbled. “Just felt like spending time with a friend today.”

The corners of your mouth tilted, his voice had always sounded pretty and no matter how many times you heard it you would never get tired of it.

“Then allow me to get prepared.” You finally said, ignoring the flutter in your chest.

“I trust that you’ll be here on time, 34 minutes left.” His voice was back to being monotone and sarcastic.

This filled you with amusement, and you decided to tease, “You trust me?”

He went quiet for a second and another, then finally he replied. “I always have.” He ended the call.

You held your phone to your chest as you gazed at his pictures again and thought, would he still trust you after seeing your room like this?

It didn’t matter. Even if he didn’t know you knew… Happy birthday, Wanderer <3

#silaswritesthings #silas #genshin impact #genshin x you #wanderer x reader #anemo supremacy #genshin wanderer #happy birthday wanderer!!#genshin impact wanderer #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader

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httpsuniverse · 10 months

Text

LIPS OF AN ANGEL | MM19

PAIRING: mason mount x wolff!reader ; a bit of george russell x wolff!reader

DETAILS & WARNINGS: profanities, mentions cheating/infidelity, mason's anger is totally understandable, y/n's a bit of a bitch(? idk towards the end tho), rushed ending bc i really wanted to end this hahahah, also not proofread and tons of dialogues ahhahah

WC: 4k

A/N: i apologize for uploading this soo late 😭 i had writers block for a long while :< anyway, enjoy reading!

TAGGED: @i83andrew @pleasantducktimetravel

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © newuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

now, four months have passed since you’ve broken up with mason (or at least that was what your letter stated). in those months, mason finds himself longing for you. the man often finds himself up most nights, sleeping so late and waking up so early to head to training and other prior schedules he has every day.

mason would not deny it; that if someone were to ask if he had tried contacting you, your dad and even your stepmum. the couple would always say that they don’t know your whereabouts, but deep inside, he knows they know and knowing you, you were probably the one who asked them not to tell him. the first month was the hardest, he tried calling you every night and every chance he got while on his schedule. he was waiting for your voicemail greeting to play just to hear your voice and after that, he’d record what he wanted to say. a mixture of i love you’s, i miss you’s and please come back.

it wasn’t easy with you as well. you missed mason and you missed the days where it was just the two of you in your own little world. if you could only go back in time, you’d never leave the house during the night of your fight and maybe this never would’ve happened. you missed seeing mason on the other side of the bed; you weren’t a morning person but whenever there’s a chance that you wake up before him, you’d watch him sleep and listen to his gentle snores while you lightly trace his beard with the tip of your finger. you missed snuggling to him during cold mornings, you missed the lazy make-outs because he couldn’t get his hands off of you, you missed him whispering sweet nothings in your ear after you wake up. you missed mornings with mason, too bad you can no longer relive those moments.

though you can’t help that every time you wake up, you have that thought that you could go back to london, you could return his calls, you could return back to mason and restart your relationship. but every time you do think of doing those things, you’re reminded of what you did. all those lies you’ve told him, and those days where you were away and sleeping with another man.

going back to the man you’ve hurt seems such a foolish thing to do, and you know the people around mason wouldn’t allow such a thing. though you may think that mason would have the same thinking as the others, he sometimes does not. he wanted to risk it all again with you, he wanted to try and fix it with you. all he wanted is you and you alone.

going back to mason is something that you want to do but wouldn’t do. and on the fourth month, 5 day mark, mason had revealed his month long relationship with a model, lia mendes.

honey, why you calling me so late?

it’s kinda hard to talk right now.

honey, why you crying, is everything okay?

i gotta whisper cause i can’t be too loud.

you stood in your living room filled with moving boxes, susie and toto were outside while jack was napping inside your bedroom. all you could do was sigh. it felt so weird moving into a new apartment–let alone moving to the southeast corner of france. monaco was a lovely place to live in, knowing that your father lives here (though he travels most of the time), the fact that you live nearby brings you some sort of relief, safety and comfort. though, as many people have said, you disappeared off the face of the earth for a few months, you’ve lived your life quietly with your mum for a while as you wait for the situation with mason to die down.

you were in a rush when you left london the night you told mason you were just going to the store. you left without even taking a second look, not even an ounce of thought. sure, it was a wrong move—a dumb decision as well, but you wanted to run away from all the mistakes you’ve made. you wanted to escape. leave everything you have to the place you once loved—now a place you dread the most. it was not the easiest decision either, but it was the only solution that you could think of.

the night you left mason, you didn’t go to the store. instead, you met george. again, a clandestine meeting. you messaged george when you were a few blocks away from his place, which is why you met a furious brit.

“have you lost your mind, kid?” he says, god you hated that nickname. it was the nickname that toto knew george gave you and became the hint that you and the driver are close. “she could’ve caught me! she could’ve seen your bloody message! why did you want to see me—”

“i told him, george. he–he probably saw the letter by now because i left a few hours ago.”

the driver’s eyes widened, definitely not the sentence he was not expecting to hear from you. suddenly, he didn’t know what to do or say. george tried to pull you in his arms, but you were quick to push him away. “this… george! this is exactly why we need to stop what’s between us!” you said, “i can’t believe i’m saying this but i regret everything that happened between us. i regret taking advantage of mason and carmen. i hate how i know that dad will be so disappointed in me. so please, let’s stop this… we can’t keep hurting and breaking the trusts of the people around us.”

your voice cracks by the end of the last sentence, you could feel george staring at you but you kept your gaze on your feet. no strength to look at his eyes because you know that this man would do anything just to make you stay.

“but baby—”

from calling you kid to baby—you hated it. you felt disgusted. you needed to end it.

“no, george. no buts.” you cut off, “i have to go. i… i wish you all the best.”

you walk back to your car, locking the doors in case george runs after you. again, without looking back, you drive away. leaving the confused brit in the empty street.

and even though you ended things with george that night, he hadn’t stopped calling and texting you—afraid that you might say anything about your relationship to others, even with friends and family. all he ever cared about was his reputation, he was scared. after all, he was doing great with mercedes the past season and a scandal with his boss’ daughter would put him through hell.

now, you were left alone in this apartment overlooking the beauty of monaco. you sat on your balcony with a glass of wine sitting on the table, feeling the breeze of the mediterranean sea. oh you missed mason. you haven’t heard anything from him since you two broke up.

and maybe it was the number of wine in your system that you ended up dialing his number, the one you’ve deleted yet can’t seem to forget as you knew it by heart. no matter how hard you try to forget about it. it kept on ringing and ringing, and you tried to re-dial once it ended due to the exceeding minute.

on the fifth try, you finally heard his voice.

“hello?”

you know that feeling when you’ve spoken to your high school crush for the very first time, your heart drops and your stomach is filled with butterflies to the point where you don’t know what to say? that is exactly what you felt when you heard mason’s voice after months.

“hello?” he repeats, “is this a prank call? ‘cause this is the fifth time you called and i might need to block your number–”

“masey.”

you heard sounds of bed rustling followed by a door closing, you assumed that he was already in bed and was fast asleep. after all, it was already midnight. “y/n?” and that’s when the tears started to roll in, god how you missed that voice. “are you crying? is everything alright?” his voice was quiet.

“y-yeah, just…” you sniffed, “just missing you and i think it has something to do with this stupid wine.”

“sorry, i’ve got to whisper. m-my girlfriend’s asleep,”

“oh.” you wiped your tears, you only found out that mason was dating someone now. “i’m sorry, i should’ve known. god, i’ll hang up–”

“no!”

well, my girl’s in the next room

sometimes i wish she was you

i guess we never really moved on

it’s really good to hear your voice saying my name

it sounds so sweet

“she’s in the other room anyway, we can continue talking.” he continued, “h-how have you been? i’ve seen photos of jack on susie’s instagram, may have had a glimpse of you spending time with them in her stories. have you gone karting with jack recently?”

you chuckle, chugging the remaining wine on your glass before responding. “i-i stayed with them for a month, i stayed with my mum as well, after our… well, you know. i’ve accompanied jack while dad and susie are busy. you know, the season has already started and susie is busy with the f1 academy. i was vacant for a month, but i’ve started working again–i’m talking too much, you should really hang up, mason.”

“you know, it’s really good to hear your voice saying my name, y/n.” mason said, “it-it really sounds so sweet.”

“we should really stop, mason.”

you heard him scoff on the other end of the line, “it’s so funny that you’re the one saying that, i’m not the one who called in the first place, y/n.”

“i know, and i only found out that you were dating someone tonight. y-you should be with her, you shouldn’t be talking to your ex who… who cheated on you tonight. she deserves better.”

“i guess we never really moved on, y/n.” he replied, “i–”

“goodbye, mason. good night.”

coming from the lips of an angel

hearing those words, it makes me weak

and i never wanna say goodbye

but, girl, you make it hard to be faithful

with the lips of an angel

mason couldn’t sleep that night and had trouble waking up, which was the reason why lia, so early in the morning, was mad as her boyfriend was sleeping so deep and no matter how hard she tried to wake him up, she just couldn’t. lia was running late for a schedule that mason had promised to come with her as their break for the season had begun.

“masey, i’m running super late. my manager is about to burst, can’t you please move much faster?” she said, in a mixture of annoyed and calm voice. “didn’t we go to bed at the same time last night? why do you look like you haven’t at all?”

“because i haven’t slept,” he answered directly.

“why?”

“just… nothing. let’s go.”

the couple exited mason’s house, lia practically sprinted to mason’s car and sat on the front seat. masey, that was the nickname most people call him but now, he only wanted to hear your voice call him that and nobody else. when you say his name, it sounded like it came from the lips of an angel. it made him weak most of the time.

lia had arrived a half an hour late, her manager was already glaring at mason and immediately separated the couple. while lia was doing her photoshoot, leaving mason alone, he realised that he never wanted to break up with you, even if you admitted what had happened between you and george, or maybe he was just thinking about it as you’ve spoken last night. maybe he just missed you. he did miss you.

what’s fucked up is that he thought he finally moved on from you, that he was ready to commit to a new relationship. he knew that when he and lia were testing the waters, a month before they officially dated. he has told himself several times that he was over you, yet here he is. reminiscing all the memories you’ve shared the past years you two were together after that phone call. you were making it hard for him to be faithful.

as he was waiting, mason was on his phone when he received a notification of an invite to attend another f1 race with red bull. this time, it was in barcelona. he remembered the last time you and he went to monaco, a weekend to remember indeed.

“we’re going to be separated for almost the whole day, baby” you laugh, putting on your dress as mason shoves his phone into his pocket. “it’s going to be so weird because you’ll be at the red bull garage, and i’ll be at mercedes!”

“hey, i can still go there, you know? plus we’ll see each other around the paddock.” he replied, walking behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “besides, your dad loooves me. i’m sure he’ll understand that this is for work and publicity.”

you smiled, zipping your dress up and turned to face him. mason pursed his lips, signifying that he was asking for a kiss. you giggled, and eventually leaned in to connect your lips together. when you pulled away, you put your hand on his face and ran the pads of your thumb on his beard–the one you loved doing after you two kissed every time.

“you, sir… look so handsome with your outfit.” you compliment, he was wearing his chequered rhude shirt over some white shirt. you leaned in again for another kiss, deepening it–only pulling away when you heard your phone ring. “okay, before things escalate, i have to go. dad’s calling.”

“your dad’s such a cockblocker.” he teased, earning a slap on the arm from you. “i’m just kidding! i’ll see you when i see you at the paddock.”

mason remembered how he stole a kiss every time you crossed paths at the paddock or at the pit lane during his walk. a lot of people saw and took pictures and videos of it, posting it on social media. that video was trending in the world of f1 and football for a few days before dying down. he remembered seeing tweets and posts on instagram, saying they were jealous of your relationship. he remembered the two of you having dinner at toto and susie’s place, how he was teased by you and jack (toto eventually joined) throughout dinner as he went as red bull’s guest and not mercedes. he remembered lying with you on the deck of a rented yacht, under the sun, enjoying the monte-carlo air.

on the other side of europe, you are woken up by the sound of your phone ringing. you were taking your afternoon siesta before returning back to your home office to continue working, and whoever was calling you in the middle of your nap, may they stub their toe on some furniture. tired, you reached out for your phone and answered the call without looking at the screen.

“hello?” you groggily said, “whoever you are, you’ve interrupted my siesta and i may hate you for that.”

“well, hello to you, my daughter.” your father’s voice rang through your ears. “and i’m sorry if i interrupted your nap, but would you be so kind and open your front door please?”

“what?”

“open the door, i’ve been out here for almost fifteen minutes.”

and off you went to your front door, toto was greeted by a grumpy daughter whose eyebrows were furrowed. you looked at your father, “what are you doing here, dad?”

“no ‘hallo, vater’? no ‘how are you doing, dad?’. none?” he joked, entering your place as you made way for him and closed the door. “okay, i will be quick. come with us to barcelona this weekend.”

your eyes widened, “what? i have work, i can’t just leave.”

“your brother told me that you have a flexible work schedule, that you’re allowed to bring your work everywhere you go.” your dad replied.

“theodore wolff, that little bitch.” you cursed under your breath, you couldn’t help but facepalm with what your brother just did. “dad–”

“i know that tone, y/n wolff.” toto stopped you from continuing your sentence, “come on, it’ll be just like the old days! except your brother isn’t here because his finals week aligned with the weekend in barcelona.”

you bit your lip, making a decision as your father can be impatient. if you go to the race, the possibility of running to george is high–no matter how much effort you exert on avoiding the man, you simply can’t as he is, of course, a driver for mercedes. but, it’ll be good for you as well! you haven’t gone to spain for years, a change of environment and working outside of your home office may be good for you as well. you work only on weekdays, and you’ll be free for the rest of the weekend so you wouldn’t think of work that much in case.

“okay fine, i’ll go with you. when’s the flight?”

“tonight.”

“TONIGHT?! dad, a little heads up would’ve been nice!”

“i’m sorry, pack your bags and we’ll pick you up by 8.” toto said, planting a kiss on your head. “i’ll go now, we’ll see you later!”

—

on saturday morning, arriving at the paddock with your father, a lot of people approached you by the entrance. some asked for pictures, some for autographs (which you didn’t quite understand), and some were nice enough to greet you. to say that you’re nervous is an understatement. you were returning to the paddock, you’re about to see george, his fiancée–the people you've been avoiding for months were in barcelona with you. you opted to stay in your hotel since your arrival in spain, finishing all the work you have left before proceeding with your weekend. as you walk to the paddock with toto, you could feel your palm sweat and your stomach turn the more you get closer to mercedes’ garage.

“word is, footballers are in red bull’s garage.” you overheard one of the mechanics upon entering the garage. the word football made you even more nervous than you already were.

“oh come on, mate. i think i’ve seen a few yesterday! that’s old news!”

“i haven’t seen any yesterday but so far, i’ve seen james, felix, chilwell–” please don’t tell me mason is here. “–and mount. just last year they were in monaco, weren’t they?”

the other mechanic nodded his head. mason is here. breathing the same air as you, probably a few metres away from you even. i knew this was a bad idea. you thought to yourself.

“you look like you saw a ghost.” said your father after speaking to the engineers.

you shook your head, “well, i think i’m about to see one today.” you joked, “i-uh, i’ll go out to find something to drink.”

toto raised an eyebrow, a bit unsure of your change of behaviour but you gave him a smile and reassured that you’ll be back. “alright, just…be back before quali, alright?”

you nodded your head and exited the garage. walking around the paddock like you were a normal guest, someone who just wants to enjoy the weekend. but it’s hard when people recognize you as toto wolff’s daughter, and as much as you try to stay away from the crowd, people still approached you. little did you know, someone has spotted you.

“oi, mason!” ben called his teammate, walking towards the man who’re talking with the other players. “guess who i saw walking around the paddock?”

“who?”

ben took a step closer to the younger, whispering your name. mason felt his heart skip a beat, realising the same thing you’ve thought about just a few minutes ago: you were here, breathing the same air as him.

it's funny that you're calling me tonight

and, yes, i've dreamt of you too

and does he know you're talking to me?

will it start a fight?

no, i don't think she has a clue.

needless to say, you were good at hiding. mason had presented the pirelli pole position award to max, he wanted to know if you were there to see him next to the driver. but as he scanned the sea of crowd, you were nowhere to be found. after the qualifying, you returned back to your hotel–reasoning that you were exhausted and had a headache. as soon as you were back, you changed clothes and plopped yourself on the bed. but it wasn’t so soon when your phone started ringing, a number you once called.

“hello?”

“a little birdie told me that you were in the paddock today.”

you sighed, closing your eyes but held the phone close to your earshot. “was it ben?”

“you know it. he’s always liked you–in a platonic way, i mean.”

silence followed right after he had mentioned ben, you were exhausted to even reply.

“y/n–”

“it’s so funny that you’re calling me tonight, mason.” you said, “i assumed the night i called you, you would’ve blocked my number.”

“you know i would never do that. we’ve been together for a long time, y/n.”

“i must be living in your head, mason.”

mason scoffed on the other end of the line, “well, i wasn’t thinking of you until the night you called.” he replied, “and yes, i’ve dreamt of you too.”

you jolted up from the bed when you heard a knock on the door, with the phone on the other hand you made your way to the door. you didn’t even bother looking through the peephole to see who was knocking on your door late in the night, you just assumed it was your dad. promptly, you opened the door–lo and behold, mason mount was standing in front of you. unable to speak, you still held your phone by your ear and stared at him, him and his stupid smile. mason was the one who ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket.

“hi,” he said, “it’s been a few months, y/n.”

“how did you–what are you–i’m so confused right now.” you expressed, about to shut the door but mason was quick enough to stop you. “what do you want, mason?”

“does he know you’re talking to me? will it start a fight?” he asked, completely ignoring your question and welcomed himself inside your room, shutting the door close. “george. does george know?”

“i called it off with him the night i left a letter for you, mason. i went to his place and i ended things with you both at the same time.”

mason scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “wow,” he exclaimed, “george had the in-person “break-up” and all i got is a stupid fucking letter?”

“mason–”

“that is bullshit, y/n. pure bullshit.” mason barked, “all this time, george got the closure that i should’ve had. me–y/n, i was the one you dated for a long time and all i fucking got is a lousy letter about the truth of your affair with george?”

“i was supposed to, mason!” you yell back, “i was supposed to tell you, but the timing just wasn’t right.”

“and you thought lying straight to my face when i asked you about it, was okay?” you were about to answer, but mason was already rushing to the door. when he was about to exit, he said: “i went here thinking i could finally get the closure i needed, but fuck, was i wrong about this.”

you scoff, “that’s on you, then. you come running to the girl who cheated on you.” you said, “does lia know that you’re still hung up on your past? because i don’t think she has a clue.”

ynwolff

liked by susie_wolff, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and others

ynwolff so many familiar faces here in spain 🇪🇸 here’s a little dump of my weekend here 🤓

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yourbffsig oh i know who those familiar faces were 😉

ynwolff 😂 stop

yourbffsig we’re going to a party tonight after what happened, we need to get wasted!!

ynwolff as long as i make it back home on time and alive, let’s gooo

mercedesamgf1 glad to have you back in the garage, y/n! 🐺

ynwolff glad to see the team secure a double podium, thank you for having me! 🖤

mercedesamgf1 a great weekend indeed!

yourmomsig missing you so much, sweetheart! hope you enjoyed x

ynwolff miss you too mum ❤️

theowolff what about me 😓

ynwolff miss you too dumbass 🙄 you’re the reason why i went so you should’ve been with me, i could’ve avoided an unexpected circumstance hahahah

theowolff if only school let me 💀 but hey, at least you ‘enjoyed’

ynwolff i’m blocking you!!

user1 OMG SHES IN THE PADDOCK WHAT IF SHE SAW OR TALKED TI MASE IM DELULU (ALSO TOTO ON THE LAST SLIDE? LMAO)

user2 stop with these assumptions I BEG YALL

user3 people should learn how to stfu im being fr rn

user4 that’s toto’s reaction when he read your comment

user2 also the cryptic messages HELLO ?? i dont think they saw each other or if they did, it probably didn’t go so well

user3 you’re onto something babes 👀

masonmount

liked by declanrice, benchilwell, redbullracing and others

masonmount thank you redbullracing and jodieporter8 for everything!

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liamendes meu belo homem 😩🫶 i love you!

— ❤️ by masonmount

redbullracing THANK YOU!! 🫶

user5 when i tell yall this man is so FINE 🤌🏻

user6 this man is scrump-DILLY-tious

user7 yall CALM DOWN

user8 mason did something happen between u and y/n bc her posts have some sort of cryptic hints and i kinda wanna know whats going on tnx (jk hahaha love u both)

user9 HELPPP me too 😓 like what does her bff mean when she said “whag happened” and y/n saying “unexpected circumstance” LIKE GIVE ME SOMETHING??? A TEA PERHAPS???

user10 currently dying to know what the fucj happened in barcelona

#mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount angst #football instagram au #football x reader #football imagine #football angst #football x you #football x y/n

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