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sytoran · 9 months

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𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 | n.romanoff

you visit the strip club downtown with your co-workers to let off some steam, but it seems like you've caught the eye of none other than the 'black widow'.

🖤 pairing: sub!stripper!natasha x fem!cop!reader

🖤 word count: 3145

🖤 note: SMUT (18+), this one been marinating in my drafts like im preserving wine

main m.list | AO3

You don’t know why you let your co-workers drag you to a strip club on a Friday night, but you’re sure as hell not complaining.

There are plenty of women, everywhere. Women in bikinis, women in stockings, women in thigh garters. You're in wonderland, honestly.

Hey, cops needed to let off some steam too, okay?

The cheers and hoots surround your table as Carol gets a lap dance by a brunette stripper. The blonde woman is blushing – you didn’t know she could do that – but she’s having the time of her life.

As Carol slides a bill between the stripper's tits with no lack of embarrassment, you laugh and get up to go get another drink.

It wasn't an overly rare occasion for you to be letting loose, but it was infrequent enough that your co-workers quite physically hauled you to this adult entertainment facility after a particularly taxing case.

ULTRAVIOLET was the most popular strip club in Queens, New York City. They served both men and women, with sparkling reviews about customer service and atmospheric aesthetics.

Carol, Valkyrie, and Maria would simply not shut up about the 'Black Widow', who was supposedly the sexiest, most stunning stripper any of them had ever laid their eyes on.

"She fuckin' looked at me in the eye," Valkyrie had moaned on a Monday morning, speaking of this stripper they so revered. "I can't look at anyone the same no more."

You were about to make a quick-witted retort about Valkyrie’s dramatization of mere eye contact, but Maria had only nodded solemnly in agreement and you had to admit you didn’t take Maria’s judgment lightly.

Aside from the talk about the Black Widow, you were hit with the novelty of the strip club once you stepped foot within.

As the Commanding Officer of the New York City Police Department, 104th Precinct, the boundless freeness of this place was quite a sight to behold. What with the heavy music, and the beer-tinged scent of the air, and nude women – the sensory overload did wonders to take your mind off work.

"You here alone?"

You spin on the barstool at the sound of a sultry voice. You have to physically stop your jaw from dropping to the floor at the sight of a breathtakingly gorgeous woman.

Scantily clad in matching sequined undergarments and fishnet stockings, stands a redheaded woman leaning against the bar counter, looking at you with magnificent green eyes.

"I'm not alone- I mean, not in that way, because I'm just here with friends. Well, co-workers, but they're my friends as well-"

Splendid job, Deputy Inspector Y/N L/N, you say internally. You can look in the eye of murderers and terrorists, but one look at a pretty woman and you're fuckin' gone.

"You're cute," the lady interrupts with a small tilt of her head, saving you from digging your own grave further.

You swallow harshly, feeling her manicured nails trace the curvature of your bicep.

"Just cute?" you ask, trying not to sound too hopeful. Her fingers move down to the collar of your white shirt, fiddling with the fabric. Call it stupidity, but you feel the urge to reciprocate the contact. You move your hands to her hips.

The lady smirks. "Hm, maybe not just cute. But I think you need to show me."

The redhead hasn't broken eye-contact all the while. Your eyes feel like they're burning. You slide your left hand down to the hem of her panties, and tug slightly. When her panties snap against her skin, she jolts with the impact.

You smirk with victory, pulling her in by her waist so your mouth is pressed against her skin. "I'll show you," you murmur, kissing the warm with a fervour you didn't know you possessed.

The woman's breath hitches and she pulls your head closer. You accept the invitation, beginning to leave a hickey on the sensitive spot of her neck.

After a few moments of your concentrated work on her neck, the woman finally lets out a sigh-turned-moan of pleasure, and you nearly pass out from how sexy it is.

She tugs your head away and pulls you in by the collar for a kiss. Your eyelids flutter close.

Your quavering breaths meet in a frantic harmony, and you want to explore her mouth, but she ends it as quickly as it begins.

"What's your name?" the redhead asks, warm breath on your lips. "Y/N," you say hoarsely, trying and failing not to sound like you were left high and dry.

You slide your hands to the bare skin of her torso, silently delighting in the way it raises goosebumps. You need to get more of her, feel more of her. "Do I get to know your name?" you ask.

The lights in the strip club suddenly dim, and the music takes on a far more sensual tone.

The woman slides out of your grasp like sand falling through your fingertips, and you're left with the ghost of her burning embrace. Your question remains unanswered.

"Let's give it up for our next dancer," the bar owner says into his mic, and the noise dramatically fades away. "The Black Widow!"

Blue and violet lights dance in your vision as the woman who had kissed you just moments before, approaches the stage, hips swaying in time to the music.

Your eyes narrow, and you down the bourbon in one shot. You'd need it.

When the beat drops, The Black Widow throws her head back and she begins to move.

God, it's criminally sensual, the way she danced, unlike anything you'd ever seen before. You couldn't put into words the allure she possessed.

The redheaded woman runs a hand over her own skin, dipping into every curve, as the music crescendos, and you know you're not the only patron with their heart thrumming in their chest.

When she begins twirling on the pole, you see men clearing out a month's paycheck for this divine woman, and honestly? You don't blame them.

Money gets flung onto the stage and catcalls get yelled as perhaps the most erotic scene unfolds before your very eyes.

When The Black Widow lifts up a thigh to show off her tight stockings, you're unable to hold back any longer, drawn to the stage like a moth to a flame.

Sitting back down into your original seat, leaving the empty glass of bourbon behind, all else fades away. Your world stumbles on its axis as the woman makes her way over to you, running a hand through her luscious locks of hair.

Your mouth dries up as The Black Widow turns around in front of you and fully bends over, exposing the delicious curve of her ass. You sink back into your seat, bringing two fingers to your lips in silent contemplation. Internally, you're fighting the goddamned World War II with your libido.

She's still swaying in beat to the music, and spins around as the sound of a saxophone starts playing. The last thing you see is a playful wink from the gorgeous woman before an ample asset of tits covers your vision.

Fuck, you're not going to survive.

Your nose quite literally gets buried between her tits as the woman climbs onto you. You would pay to see your co-workers' faces right now. How would you ever face them at work again?

“Get it, Y/N!” you hear Maria call in the distance, and a shrill whistle follows.

You smirk against the pair of tits in your face, inhaling the scent of her perfume, and her sweat, and simlply her. You let the stripper work her magic.

After a few more minutes of your paradise, she pulls away, skin flushed.

You regard her with a darkened gaze, pulling out your wallet. You stuff a bill in the side of her thong, making sure to snap the fabric in the same spot as you had previously.

The woman's face flickers in recognition. She shakes her head, then dips her head down to whisper in your ear.

"11pm. Room 8. Private session. Don't be late."

Like it was planned, the music comes to an end. The redhead doesn't wait for your response before she gets off your lap, raising her arm in acknowledgement of the roaring cheers. Her hips sway as she walks away from you, and you don’t even pretend that your eyes are glued to her curves.

Money gets thrown onto the stage once again, all in hopes of earning a fraction of what you had just experienced.

"Holy shit, Y/N, what was that?" Carol yells at you over the noise, slapping your back. You shrug plainly with a stupid smug smirk as Valkyrie whines in jealousy.

Oh, you were so fucking ready for 11pm.

"A private, fuckin' session for Deputy Inspector Y/N fucking L/N. Who would'a thought," Carol slurs, banging a shot glass onto the round table.

You roll your eyes at Carol's dramatization. It wasn't as if your status as Commanding Officer steered women away from you – in fact, some of them were quite into it.

But for your prevalently horny friends who had women over just about every week, you were considered starved of sweet pussy and were in dire need of quenching that thirst.

So when you broke the news that the most sought-after stripper in the most famous strip club in Queens, had just offered you a private session, lo and behold the chaos that ensued.

"Shit, girl, I would get down on my knees for that lady. You are one lucky bastard," Valkyrie adds in, ruffling your hair as you grumble.

"You'd get down on your knees for any woman, actually," Maria says, the usually composed woman more laid back in the environment of the strip club. Or maybe it was the alcohol.

Valkyrie lets out an aggrieved noise, sitting up to whack Maria's arm, but in her drunken state she misses and slaps Carol's drink out of her hands.

"Oi!" The blonde cries out indignantly, looking at the drink that had splattered onto her clothing.

Carol grabs Maria's martini out of her hands and throws it at Valkyrie in retaliation.

Before you know it, your three idiot friends have gotten temporarily suspended from the strip club for 'causing a ruckus'.

Just like that, and the clock ticks down to eleven o’clock.

It’s 11pm, and you're overly aware of your police badge at your belt and your gun in your holster.

Or at least, you were, until Natasha swung one leg across your lap and sat herself down with an unspoken grace, effectively sitting on your lap. In the privacy of the enclosed room, you unashamedly stare down at her cleavage, eyes several hues darker than they were before.

“See something you like?” Natasha asks breathily, running her hands over her full breasts, pushing them up to elicit a reaction from you.

The moving lights in the dark room cast shadows, and when you back look up with a sinful smirk and half-lidded eyes, Natasha swears she feels herself get wet.

All the air in your lungs dissipates when Natasha begins grinding on your thigh in beat to the music, hips moving skilfully in the sexiest fashion imaginable.

Fuck, this woman was going to be your demise.

Your hands feel like they’re on fire as you watch her put on a show, simply aching to move and touch. Natasha trails her fingertips down your tensed arms, running over the curve of your biceps. She smirks at the goosebumps it raises, her hands dwelling to the edge of your pants.

Your breath catches as her fingers find the outline of your police badge tucked underneath your shirt. The Black Widow looks up at you, expression a no-tell. “You on duty?”

“Nope.”

“Is that why you’ve got a gun in your belt?”

“Nah, that one’s just for pretty girls like you,” you respond slowly, hands tentatively going to rest on her thighs. When the smirk reappears on the stripper's face, you relax and let your shoulders untense.

“If you say so, officer,” she comments huskily, leaning forward to nip at your earlobe. The shiver runs through your bones.

You’re about to counter with a quick retort of your own before Natasha begins grinding on that bulge in your pants, treating your gun like it was a strap.

“Shit,” you say breathlessly, hands burning at being unable to touch. Behind your back, your nails were digging into your palms so hard you swore you had already drawn blood.

Fuck, it was torture.

Her pretty moans and breathy whines ring in your ears as she moves her hips roughly, a torment to your demise.

After a while, you come to the realisation that you can feel how wet Natasha is through her undergarments, soaked from having just dry-humped your thigh.

“Fuck me,” she says, and your throat dries up. “What?” you ask, dazedly, still staring at her bouncing tits in front of your face.

“I said, fuck me,” Natasha repeats, head tilting to the side, halting all her movements so you would look at her.

You splutter. “But the sign said–”

“What can I say, officer, you wanna make me break the rules.”

That’s all the confirmation you need before your hands can finally touch her, finally, meeting and warm skin and sweat droplets and everything you’d ever wanted.

You let out a huff of amusement as Natasha wraps her pretty lips around your fingers and sucks, making lewd noises with her tongue. Your ears burn, now, having been tainted with the beautiful symphony of this woman’s pleasure.

“You’re very naughty,” you comment, your other hand slipping under her top to reach her full breasts. Palming at the mounds in your hand, you face moves to the bare skin of her collarbone and begin kissing it.

“Don’t make marks,” Natasha says breathlessly, when you let your teeth nick the soft skin there, and there’s a pit of desire in your stomach that growls in frustration, but you know you have to respect her wishes and instead move your mouth down to her chest.

Natasha doesn’t remember when you slipped off her bra, but she isn’t complaining about your haste and instead throws her head back when your mouth latches onto her breasts.

“Mhm, that feels good,” she moans, weaving her fingers through your hair and scratching at your scalp. You hum in acknowledgement against her flushed skin, your tongue paying special attention to her hardened buds.

When both your hands move to the underside of her thighs and lift her up, Natasha lets out an embarrassing squeak at the sudden change of position. But as you lay her down on the sofa with your body weight pressing into hers, those whimpers turn into filthy moans.

You stall for a moment, hovering above her with your silver necklace dangling right above her face. She looks so pretty like this, her hair all splayed out, the sheen of sweat on her skin making her look tantalizing.

Natasha catches your swinging necklace between her teeth, winking seductively at you, and you’re snapped out of your moment, a laugh taking over.

“Have I told you that you’re incredibly bad?” you say, in between kisses scattered between her breasts, down her sternum and to her stomach.

“You- you have,” Natasha replies with some difficulty, as your kisses get lower and lower. “Maybe you should punish me for it, officer;”

She shuts up when you slowly spread open her thighs, revealing the dripping heat that is Natasha’s cunt. You maintain eye contact with her as you lower your mouth to her pussy, her lust-filled stare making your head spin.

When your tongue meets her cunt, it was game over.

“Fuck,” Natasha moans, already unable to continue looking at you in the eye, hands moving to grip the cushion of the sofa. Her thighs clamp around your head, and you’re suffocating, but in a way that feels so good you could die in bliss.

You lap at her dripping cunt like you were starving, like you would die without it. Natasha’s moans get louder. You move your mouth in rocking motions, pushing your tongue further in with each thrust.

“More,” she gasps out, and you quicken your pace, fingertips digging bruises into her plush thighs. In retrospect, you don’t remember how long you stay there, ravenously eating her out like your life depended on it.

When you feel her breathing get faster and more shallow, breathy little whines that get louder and louder, and you know she’s about to cum.

Instead of gently bringing her to a high, you internally say fuck it and decide that if this was the one chance you had, with the most sought-after stripper in Queens, you were going to make it an unforgettable one.

You move your mouth up to wrap your lips around her swollen, throbbing clit, and you suck on it, hard. In tandem with that, you easily slide two fingers in, curling them inside her to hit that sweet spot. Natasha positively screams, and you swear it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

Her orgasm floods the lower half of your face and your fingers, and the little mewls of your name Natasha lets out as she comes down from her high is one you’d always remember.

Finally, you emerge from between Natasha’s thighs. Slowly, you kiss up her stomach and her breasts, up the way you came down from, and you meet Natasha’s blissed out face.

You take a moment to take in her tousled hair, her swollen kissable-pink lips, her smudged makeup, her shallow gasps for air, and the pure lust in her eyes.

Just like that, and another jolt of arousal hits you. Before you can act on it, Natasha pulls you into a messy kiss, hot and sweaty.

“You look so fucking good-” Natasha says in between the frantic meeting of your mouths. “With my cum all over your jaw.”

You bite back a growl at her words, wanting to let her know just how exactly good you can make her cum. Natasha catches your hand that slides down to her wet cunt, before bringing it up and placing a kiss on your fingertips. “Our time is up,” she whispers, nodding to the clock behind you that now reads 11.31pm. “One private session lasts 30 minutes.”

This woman was going to be the death of you.

You turn back to The Black Widow with dilated pupils, slowly reaching into your pocket for that leather Saint Laurent wallet, and the ghost of a smirk on your lips.

In the wee hours of twilight the next day, you leave the strip club with your wallet emptied, a searing cramp in your hand, and the memory of an unforgettable woman whose real name you hadn’t even known.

Boy, you had one hell of a story to tell your friends.

i think i'm not gonna taglists anymore, sorry yall. there's just so many usernames and i have to constantly update it :(

main m.list | AO3

#natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff smut #bottom natasha romanoff #sub natasha romanoff #top reader #dom reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #wlw smut #gxg smut #marvel #marvel women #x reader

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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months

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Fem Reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber Driver

Commissioned art by @ejpuki on Instagram, same as the one above, this is just a link to the original post. Please support the artist 🖤

Synopsis- in an AU where fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...with a twist on the og Miguel O'Hara comic. Word Count 4.5k

Pt 2, Pt 3 1, Pt 3 2 , Pt 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9

T/W: 18+ only, minors DNI, alcohol, drunkeness, mature language, implied masturbation, some sexual content/fantasizing, some self-deprecating language (reader is insecure), age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34)

This is my first EVER fan fiction piece! If you have a crush on Miguel O'Hara from Across the Spider Verse, this is for you...

---

"Next song is for all the bad bitches in here tonight, let's make some noise." As soon as the song starts you recognize that it's Agora Hills and a switch goes off in your brain as you yank your friend, Hailey by the arm to the dance floor while she struggles to get the last sip of tequila sunrise down the hatch as the ice cubes attack her face.

It was a Saturday night, now very early Sunday morning in mid-November. You and your two friends are in a slightly seedy club in Brooklyn. Right now, all three of you are trying to escape the first-world problems of modern day society, and common issues that would plague late-twenty year old adults like stagnant jobs, anxiety-inducing texts from distant family members about plans for the holidays, and a casual fling that started to sour about 3 days ago.

Right now, all you want to do is dance to this song. And go home for some relief because the tequila is making you horny and your situationship hasn't texted you back for going on 16 hours now.

You and Hailey giggle as you both throw your heads back in bliss to the music, holding each other's pinkies as you try and awkwardly spin on the dance floor.

"Wait!" Hailey calls out and stutters as she lets go of you and tries to squeeze through a sea of musk, 5- Gum, and Bath and Body Works perfume back towards your other friend, Brin, who's still at the bar.

"Fuckkk. Whatever girl." You drunkenly roll your eyes and close them again, throwing your arms in the air, moving to the beat. The song is making you feel even more electrified than before. You toss your head back and move your hands from your shoulders, to your chest, down to your thighs. It's one of those moments where you feel dangerous.

God I love being a woman! You picture going home with a stranger. A tall man's lips crashing down on yours in your dark bedroom in drunken passion, falling backwards onto your bed. You picture yourself pulling your clothes off slowly while his hungry eyes scan your curves…

Your fantasy is interrupted when you feel a clammy hand touch your hip, just below where your see-through top ends. Your eyes shoot what you hope is an annoyed look at the offender. A brown haired guy in a white t-shirt with a flannel who looks like his name is Tanner, smirks at you as he moves past you, but not before letting his eyes dart to your cleavage line under your black bralette. You groan and move the other direction and realize Hailey and Brin are nowhere to be found. Your drunkeness wears off for one second as you slowly jerk around, trying to make your way towards the bar.

A tall brunette with a half sleeve tattoo, glasses, and her straight brown hair in a claw clip is counting her drawer.

"H-have you seen my friends?" you ask her stupidly. The tall brunette looks at you, her small sticker name tag on her baseball tee shirt reads "Reagan."

"I can't hear you, hunny." Reagan has seen this a million times. "Last call just ended. Do you have a ride home? I said, do you have a ride HOME?"

Reagan leans over the bar, holding onto your wrist. Her breath smells good at least.

"Okay look, can you hand me your phone please? Let me help you order an Uber." You blow air out of your lips like a horse and sloppily hand her your phone. "Enter your passcode, please."

You type in your passcode and watch the glint from your phone reflect on her glasses as she orders an Uber for you. Luckily, your address is already saved to the app. "Okay, sweetheart, wait here with me. Miguel is coming for you in 4 minutes." She hands you back your phone and credit card. "Sign here please."

Fuck, did I transfer that 200 from my savings before I got here? You think as you sign the receipt she hands you. The total is $58.75. You scrape the tiny excuse for a pocket inside your skirt and hand Reagan a crumpled up 20 as a tip. Reagan takes it, eyes widen a little bit at the sight of the 20.

Did she mean to give me this much?... Fuck it. She gives you a small, concerned grin.

"Thanks... let me get you some water."

You nod and slump your head forward on the sticky bar.

Suddenly Reagan is shaking your shoulder.

"Hey! Your ride's here!"

You realize you might have fallen asleep temporarily. The room is still moving like you're trying to balance on a waterbed. She places a styrofoam to-go cup in your hand filled with ice water as she grips your left arm.

"Here, just take off your shoes, hunny." She bends over and pulls off your clunky heels and holds them in her free hand. You feel like you're 4 years old. You feel tears well up at the sudden kindness.

"Okay hunny it's okay, come on now." She pulls you outside and to the curb where a black Audi is waiting. The cold air assaults your bare legs and your teeth start to chatter. The driver recognizes his passenger is quite inebriated and gets out, walking towards the struggling pair.

You feel your bedroom eyes creep up when you see him. Oh no, he's hotttt!

You curse in your head silently for not checking your reflection before he got there. You're sure you're a hot mess though.

He's tall, huge, even. Definitely way over six feet. Dark tousled hair with dreamy brown eyes underneath sculpted brows are locked on you as he gets closer. You instinctually run a hand through your hair, trying to make it look more voluminous. Probably a lost cause at this point.

He's wearing black joggers with some worn Nikes. His black hoodie is baggy but you have a very good imagination. It covers a set of broad, wide shoulders and what you're sure are bold chest muscles underneath that lead to a delicious pair of V lines and an endearing happy trail of hair running down his belly button that lead directly to his-

"Can I carry something for you?" His rich voice pulls you out of your indecent thoughts for one second then sends you right back there again.

"Um, yes can you get her shoes please?" You hear Reagan's voice go up an octave.

Girlll me too. You think to yourself.

Miguel takes your heels in a pair of strong, large hands. As he does, he tugs his sleeve and checks a black Apple watch, veins running up a thick forearm. Called it. This guy was jacked. Probably a gym bro. Definitely has a girlfriend. You feel yourself get sucked back into reality. You were probably a 7/10 at best. And right now, probably a strong 4 after your shenanigans tonight.

Miguel opens the back door, allowing Reagan to tuck you in.

"Get home safe hunny," she says.

"Thank youuuu," you slur back to her as you sit, disheveled with your sippy cup of ice water in the backseat opposite of the driver's in front. Miguel gets in the driver's seat, the scent of Old Spice seeps in.

He smells good too?! You feel yourself wanting to sin. He sits in the front seat for a few moments in silence, fiddling with his phone.

"2949 Ocean Parkway?" he asks in his mesmerizing voice.

"Yeah, that's right." You feel yourself perk up. You're starting to sober up slightly but you still have enough liquid courage left to start asking him a lot more questions than you normally would.

"Your name's Miguel?"

"Yes," he answers. "Did you have a good night tonight?"

"I did! It was supposed to be girl's night, I'm not sure what happened to them, though."

"Your friends left you?" His dark eyes glance in the rearview mirror at you.

Sighhh "Yeah, I guess they did."

"You need better friends." One of his hands comes up and grips the shoulder of the passenger seat as he sits up and looks over his shoulder, his eyes meet yours for just a moment, then focus on the back window as he pulls out of the parallel parking spot. You can't help but stare at his chiseled jawline and his neck, imagining yourself planting a line of kisses on it while he groans and grits his teeth...

"You know what sounds amazing right now?" You ask in a flirty tone, interrupting your own dirty thoughts.

He cracked a small smile. "What's that?"

"Taco bellllll." You rest your cheek on the shoulder passengers seat, looking at him.

He glances at you, then keeps looking ahead as he drives.

"Well, if you want to update the route I'd be happy to stop anywhere you want."

You laugh.

"I don't know how to do thattt." The car comes up to a red light.

"Here, want help?" Miguel looks over at you as you hand him your phone which has the app still opened, courtesy of Reagan helping you from before. Miguel quickly types, his eyes going from the traffic light to your phone as he tries to enter the new address for the closest Taco Bell.

"Got it," he hands you back your phone, another whiff of his cologne coming off the fabric of his hoodie as he moves his arm back to rest on the center console while he drives with his left hand.

You glance down at your phone and then back at him, still leaning forward with your cheek pressed against the back of the passenger seat.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel was curious about his new passenger, probably the last ride he'll do tonight. He didn't get a good look at you when the bartender was putting you in his car. He glanced over at you again when he thought you weren't looking, but quickly moved his eyes back to the road when he saw you were staring at him already with your cheek pressed against the passenger seat.

"You tired?"

"Kind of," you fake a small yawn while still holding your position.

Miguel laughed. He thought that was kind of amusing, how you were clearly faking being tired and shamelessly staring at him while he drove. He knew he was a good looking guy. Once you got into his car, he felt like he needed to take care of you and make sure you got home safe since your shitty friends wouldn't.

Your eyes wander to the space between his chest and the steering wheel, trying to imagine yourself in it, his strong arms wrapped around you as your hot, frantic, breaths fogged the windows as your bodies pressed together...

"So, y/n , right?" He asks.

Fuuuuck he said my name...

"Yeah..how did you know?! Oh right, the app, the app..."

Miguel smiles.

"So, Miguel, how is it being an Uber driver?" you ask. Feeling brave, you touch his elbow resting on the center console. Miguel's fist clenches tighter around the steering wheel at your touch.

"It's...not bad. It's been pretty busy tonight, actually. I went to the gym earlier then just have been taking a few folks like yourself around town who were going out as well. "

"That's nice. You know, we're gonna be best friends by the end of this drive," you grin, taking another sip of ice water.

"Really?" Miguel smirks. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Your heart flutters at this question. Why is he asking me that?!

"Uhm, no.. I was talking to a guy but I think he ghosted me."

"Heh, I'm sorry to hear that." Miguel replied, not sorry at all.

"Do girls ghost you? Or-uh, I mean- do you, do you have a girlfriend?" you manage to spit out.

Miguel smiles at your stutters.

"Nah, I'm single. I do have a daughter though."

Your smile disappears for a moment. A daughter? "Awhhh, what's her name? How old is she?"

"Her name's Gabriella. She's 6."

"That's sweet...." Miguel's handsomeness mixed with the liquor is enough to cause all rational thinking to exit your brain. I could be a step-mom, easy! I love kids, what the hell?

"So, how old are you?" You ask.

Miguel chuckles. "Isn't it rude to ask a stranger's age?" He glances over at you and the corner of his mouth raises at your slightly mortified expression. "I'm just messing with you- I'm 34."

"Dang, I'm 26," you answer as you look out the window.

"You're still pretty young," Miguel remarks as he turns down a new street.

"I definitely don't feel that way," you answer as you slump in your seat. You decide to check your email. Once you open it, a message that you don't want to see is at the very top. It's a random Yahoo email address you don't recognize which means only one thing: your asshole, estranged dad. You click on it quickly to clear the bold lettering indicating it's unread, and catch a quick glimpse of its contents which is a novel with no spacing. You quickly delete it with a loud sigh.

"Everything okay?" Miguel asks.

"Just my dad. Somehow he made another email address and tried to contact me again. It's a long story though we don't have to get into it..." your voice cracks slightly.

The skin around Miguel's eyes softens when you mention your tense relationship with your father. He himself knew that pain as well. His father, George O'Hara, wasn't a model parent, either.

"I'm sorry you're going through that," Miguel says emphatically. "I don't have the best relationship with my dad, either."

Once you hear this, the last bit of liquid courage in your system inspires you to spill the tea.

"He and my mom are divorced, and, well he's just a narcissist, right? Growing up, I didn't see it, but his whole family is full of them. My grandma never wanted him to marry my mom and so ever since their wedding day, she treated her like shit and when I came along, it was no different. I used to wonder why at Christmases she got bigger presents for the other grandkids and ask why she didn't show up for my birthday parties. My dad never did anything about it and always took their side. I finally realized it when I was about 16 when they divorced, and that's when I said fuck it. If you're not gonna stick up for my mom or me, I don't really want anything to do with you or your family."

Miguel nodded, just listening to you speak, glancing at you in the rearview mirror so you knew he was paying attention.

"Wow, I must say, that sounds horrible. Good on you for sticking up for yourself and your mother. As a parent myself, I can't ever imagine treating my own child or their family that way..."

You sigh.

"Yeah, shit's fucked. But there's nothing I can do about it, you know? I just don't have the strength to talk to him right now. But he never fails to try to reach out about this time every year. Since it's the holidays."

The car arrives at another red light. This time, Miguel turns around to face you while you're stopped, his eyes directly looking into yours.

"Don't feel guilty for doing what's best for you. No matter how hard it is. I know that most people think that family is everything, but, truth is sometimes they can hurt you the most." Miguel then turns back to the wheel.

You feel a flutter in your stomach as though an invisible spark appeared. You were strongly physically attracted to your handsome Uber driver, no doubt about it, but after hearing him speak, you realize there's more behind his captivating features. You feel the very beginning of a connection starting to form and suddenly you wish you had all night to talk to him. Miguel felt the same way, too. In fact, he was going 5 miles under the speed limit and riding the slow lane to try and prolong the encounter. Luckily, you were still too tipsy to notice.

"Well, this should cheer you up..." Miguel pulls the car into the Taco Bell parking lot. You groan internally when you realize you're going to have to go inside. You step out of the car, the cold air assaulting your bare skin again. Miguel notices you shivering.

"Here." Without hesitation, he peels off his hoodie and hands it to you. You want to die as soon as you put it on, and once you see him standing there without it on. He's even more toned than you realize. He's wearing a grey athletic shirt that hugs his broad shoulders just right, his defined chest and ab muscles tapering off into a narrow waist. His hoodie is still warm and smells intoxicating. You feel your hormones going crazy when you bring the collar of the hoodie to your mouth and nose, shamelessly getting drunk on the scent he left behind...

You do a mini sprint to catch up to him as he's already making his way towards the restaurant.

Miguel looks at you from the corner of his eye and his heart skips a beat. He adores the way his oversized clothes drown you. The hoodie is big enough to be a dress on you. He imagines this would be how you two would look together getting a bite to eat, only after making you scream his name 30 minutes before....

You and Miguel enter the Taco Bell and he gives an awkward grin as he holds the door open for you.

"Why don't you sit down or use the restroom if you need, let me order for you," Miguel says.

Your heart melts, but you decide you better seem modest with your order.

"Umm just a gordita crunch, small Baja blast, and a 2 pack of Cinnabon delights please."

Miguel smiles. "You got it." Suddenly, he feels close to you. You trusting him to order food for you and take you home after a rough night out while letting you wear his clothes.

While you go into the bathroom, he approaches the counter.

"Hello, I need two gordita crunches, a large Baja Blast, and a 12 pack of Cinnabon delights, please" He takes out his card and pays for the food without a second thought.

Meanwhile, you come out of the bathroom after cleaning up a bit, still wrapped in his warm hug of a hoodie and wait near the door. Miguel strolls over with your food and grins at you.

"Are you ready to go?" You nod and grin back and you two make your way back to his car. Suddenly, you realize.

"Do you have Venmo? Let me know how much I owe you."

"Absolutely not." Miguel answers firmly. "Here, why don't you sit up front this time?" He opens the passenger door for you. You beam at him.

Is this real? Is this guy really doing all this for me and I just met him? You've never had a man treat you this well. Not even your last relationship could be bothered to hold a door open for you or pull out a chair. You get in and Miguel hands you your bag of food, the delicious aroma making your stomach growl. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion when you realize there's a lot more food in the bag than you told him to order originally. Miguel gets in the car and starts to drive again.

"Did, did you order extra food for me?" You laugh as you turn to him. Miguel gives you a small half smile but says nothing. You take a bite of the gordita crunch and let out a loud, "Mmmmmmm!" Just what you've been craving all night.

"Thank you, thank you so much you have no idea..." Your sentence tapers off as you stuff one of the piping hot Cinnabons into your mouth.

"You're very welcome." Miguel answers as you arrive at another red light. You realize Miguel didn't get himself anything.

"Do you want a Cinnabon bite?" You hold the box and give it a little shake.

Miguel offers a polite smile. "No thanks, those are all for you."

"Whaat, you can't turn down one of these. Have you even had these before?" You say playfully.

He chuckles at your playful tone. "I haven't, actually. But I trust your judgement."

"Come onnn...it's the LEAST I can do after everything you've done for me tonight. You're seriously gonna make me feel SO bad if you don't take at LEAST one." You give the box a couple shakes as if it's going to entice him more.

Miguel sighs. "Alright, you got me. I'll try one."

You smile wide as he takes one of the Cinnabon bites from the box you're holding in an outstretched hand. Your smile almost breaks your face as you see his reaction to his first bite.

"Jesus.." he mutters as his brows furrow in disbelief. He looks down at the remaining bite in his fingers as though he can't comprehend its existence. "That's spectacular, actually."

"Have another one!" You beam.

"Don't mind if I do." Miguel pops another one in his mouth and he brakes again at another red light.

He glances over at you and notices a little bit of taco sauce on the corner of your lip. "You got something..."

Suddenly, your heart stops as he raises his hand to your face, cupping your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger, while his middle finger cradles your chin. His lips part in concentration as he gently presses his thumb against the corner of your mouth, retrieving the smudge of taco sauce. Your mouth falls open a little bit too. He gives you a little smile as he brings his thumb to his own mouth, cleaning the sauce from his finger.

That might have been the hottest thing you've ever seen in your life. At this point, all you want to do is grab his face and make out with it. Traffic be damned, your runny mascara be damned, your deflated hair be damned, you don't care anymore about any of that. He could ask you to do anything and you'd give it to him without hesitation.

Miguel is thinking the same thing. He did that on purpose. If it wasn't anymore obvious he wanted you right now then he wasn't sure what was. His gaze falls back to your lips. He suddenly realizes you've begun to lean in closer to him. Your noses are inches away from each other. God, he wanted you. To lick passionately into your mouth with his tongue. Being able to hold you and grip your ass as though he was a starved man who couldn't get closer to you even if he tried. Watching your brow furrow with pleasure, hearing your voice and watching your breath fog his windows and the heat rising in his body knowing he was the cause...

Reality busts in like the Kool-Aid man.

She was drinking tonight. You just met her. She's your passenger. Technically, you're still working right now...No, it's not right...

Miguel pulls away suddenly, and, as if the universe has his back, the traffic light turns green and he presses the gas, driving once more. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart starts to pound again.

Doesn't he like me? What happened....? What did I do....? Did I misread the signs? I wanna hide in my room for the rest of my fucking life now.

You clear your throat and take a long sip of Baja Blast. The uncomfortable silence and tension becomes a thick fog. You recognize your apartment building coming into view and your heart sinks.

"Home sweet home..." Miguel pulls into the parking lot. "Is here a good place to drop you off?"

"Yeah..." You try to make your tone sound like it's back to business. Miguel nods and grips the steering wheel with both fists in the 12 o' clock position as he watches you gather your things.

Ask for her number, you fucking pussy... Truth is, when it came to matters of the heart, Miguel's heart was glass.

"Thank you for the ride and the food, and, and just everything..." you step out of his car, defeated. You really didn't want to be the one to make the first move. If he really wanted to he would...

Miguel looks back at you with a neutral expression.

"Of course. You have a safe night, now." He starts to pull away.

"Miguel!" You realize you're still wearing his hoodie and you go to take it off.

He looks at you through the rolled down window, still driving away and shoots you a gorgeous smile and shakes his head at you in refusal, giving you one last wink that nearly knocks you over.

You sigh with frustration and watch his car disappear into the night, trying to memorize his license plate but your brain is hazy and the numbers on it escape your mind as soon as they enter. Your heart leaps in your chest when you realize you might be able to contact him through the Uber app...

No no, you let him talk to you first. Did your last situationship teach you nothing, you dumb hoe?! Don't be that desperate girl...

You wrap the droopy arms of his hoodie around yourself as you walk up the stairs and take a deep sniff...burying yourself in his scent so you never ever forget it. Even if he didn't want to spend the night holding you, you could go to bed with a huge smile on your face knowing you walked away with a piece of his clothing, the essence of what he left behind wrapped around your body all night long. An intangible connection that bound you two together...

Miguel sighed as he drove away. He just didn't have the bravery tonight. He didn't want to come across as creepy. The reality is, you were a slightly intoxicated stranger, a vulnerable woman younger than him, and he didn't want to abuse his power over you in that way. He looked at the empty passenger seat next to him and laid one of his hands on it, feeling the warmth you left behind. Trying to remember the way your thighs pillowed on it...the way your soft lips opened in shock when he wiped the sauce from your mouth, the small line of saliva from you that he caught on his thumb and licked into his own mouth..

He inhaled deeply, his jaw tensing and speed on the road increasing as he felt his body getting hot... He tried to lock your perfume in his nose for as long as he could, imagining himself inhaling it directly from your soft neck... holding onto the remainder of your presence, just...just until he could get home and relieve himself of his dire wants...

You, the perfect stranger who found herself in the passenger seat of his car tonight, and unknowingly wound up in the back of his mind for good...

-----

Hope you liked it! Thank you SO much for reading. ❤️ Part 2 is coming soon!

Pt 2

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #tension #fem reader #Spotify

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song-witch · 1 year

Text

Chin Up, Buttercup

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,084

Warnings: Fluff! Southern Mommy Wanda. More fluff.

Summary: It's your big break, but the one person you want to support you isn't there when you need her.

A/N: I wrote this in like 24 hours, but yolo.

Part Two Part Three

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’.” The woman’s voice filled the calmness surrounding the two of you with a certain… delicacy that could only be made by her. It had a certain drawl to it, words weighed down by the sticky sweetness of the southern accent that clung thickly to her honey filled words. Everything about the moment was soft, something Wanda gave you endlessly, especially after the hours upon hours you had spent on your work.

It had taken you years to get to this point. To be able to finally put it up on display for the rest of the world, except for one. Wanda. You hadn’t stopped talking about it for weeks. Had it marked on every calendar the two of you shared, and even then some more.

And yet, she had missed it. Had gotten scheduled on some bullshit meeting that could get her fired from the company. You had told her multiple times that you could support the two of you, that your book would break record sales and neither of you would ever have to work again. Of course, that was wishful thinking, but it’s what had gotten you this far, isn’t it?

Wanda had left early that morning, earlier than normal, with a kiss to your head, a silent promise that she’d be home that night. It felt like a silent apology that she couldn’t make it to your first booktalk.

It was okay, though. You were a big girl who didn’t need Wanda at your side for everything you did. You tried to tell yourself that for the rest of the day, that you could do it all by yourself, even if it pulled heavily at your heart.

You did your best to pull through your day. You ate breakfast alone, debating on tearing the sticky note Wanda had left you a message on like other days she didn’t have time to eat with you before. It felt far too literal, though. Like that post it note was your heart and every little tear made it hurt even more. You settled for crumpling it up, tossing it across the empty dining table, a hard reminder of how utterly lonely you truly were.

You sat alone when you were getting your makeup done, your outfit picked out. You would blame the tears in your eyes on your makeup. Wanda was the one who dolled you up. But she had work. For hours you told yourself you could do it. You could stand up in front of a crowd and talk about the book you had spent all of your adult and most of your teen years writing, pouring every ounce of love, hatred and everything in between in it. It didn’t feel real, though.

Since you had met her, you had envisioned her next to you at this moment. Instead, you stood by yourself with a podium in front of you, the small beaded friendship bracelet twisted between your fingers. Wanda had randomly bought the kit for you one day and you had insisted she make one with you. They were matching, the only difference being your names on the piece of string.

“Thank you all again for coming.” Despite your earlier feelings of loneliness, you smiled brightly into the microphone, more than aware of the amount of photographers and press there.

Gingerly closing the book, you stepped away from the podium, scooping the item into your arms. Agatha pulled you towards a secluded corner, your team surrounding you. Right next to Wanda, she had been your number one supporter since you brought the rough draft to her. She signed you within a few hours, taking on the role as your editor and publicist like it was nothing.

“Good job out there, toots.” The brunette clapped your back, a toothy smile brightening her features. You smiled up at her, hardly able to hear her over the roar of your own heart beating along with the crowd of people ready to have their books signed by you. “Say, you keep wooing crowds like that and you’re gonna sell out in no time, kid.”

“Really?” The hope in your voice brought forth a new youthfulness to you, like you were a kid again. In a way, you were. You had wanted this since you had started writing, and here you were, your first book published and with a second well on its way.

“With that cute tush of yours? Everyone will be wanting more, sweets.” Agatha threw an over exaggerated wink at you as she laughed, using the hand that hadn’t left your shoulder as a support of sorts. Your smile faltered just slightly, a blush coloring your cheeks. It was something Wanda liked to tease you about, how easily it was to get you riled up. You would deny it forever, even though you knew she was right. “Speaking of everyone, where’s that ragamuffin of yours?”

The smile on your face almost immediately sank. You had been so busy the entire day that you hadn't had time to think about Wanda, let alone the fact that she wasn’t there. Agatha hardly noticed your change in demeanor, too focused on the buzz around you. “She… she had work.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, toots. I’m always here if you need a plus one.” Rather than comforting you, the woman shimmied beside you, yet another wink thrown your way. You had learned that she was like that sometimes. Way too much to handle. So you smiled and nodded, trying not to let the thought that your girlfriend wouldn’t be there to support you.

“Only kidding! Well, unless you two say otherwise. You know where to call me!” Agatha stepped away from her, her hand finally pulling away from your shoulder. It was the first time you felt like you could actually breathe during the entire interaction. You loved the woman, truly, but she could be a lot. “Go enjoy your party, hot stuff, you deserve it!”

And with that, the woman left, presumably to find the bar, leaving you to be pushed around by the rest of your team. You knew enough about the events of the day that you’d be signing books for the next hour, if not longer. You were grateful for all the time Wanda had spent practicing your signature, a nice, loopy design that made you feel proud of yourself. It was all you could think about as you were swept over to the long table full of your book, pushed down into the singular chair at the table, a line that was longer than it should be waiting for your signature.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

By the hour and a half mark, your hand was cramping, not used to writing with a sharpie for this long. The line felt like it had barely shrunken, still too long to see the end of. It was thrilling and disheartening at the same time; the faster you could sign all of these books and do whatever you were told, the faster you could get home to see Wanda. That had it’s own anxieties attached to it, but whether she could be here or not wouldn’t change how excited you were to see her. Sure, it sucked that she couldn’t be here. Really sucked, but you would be able to see her in a few hours and tell her all about your day. It would have to suffice.

Another hour passed before you could see the last ten or so people, the feeling of relief strong. You had been at it for over two hours now and, while you were beyond flattered and amazed to have this many people read your book, you were exhausted to say the least.

You wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in your lovers arms, but you knew it would be at least a few more hours before that was even plausible. Faces began to meld together as the line continued to shorten, each person looking a little more like the next. As the last person approached, you breathed a sigh of relief, not even looking up as a book was slid between your hands.

“Thank you for coming.” You gave the person, a woman based on the high rise jeans and blouse they were wearing from where your eyes didn’t travel up their body, a tired smile just barely tugging at your lips.

“What? No sugar for me, sweetheart?” The words themselves made you feel gross, though the voice was recognizable. Something about the soft timber of it was reminiscent, like a fond memory you couldn’t let go of.

You were sure your confusion was evident all over your face, what with the way your eyebrows pulled together and your hand stopped moving, though you couldn’t care less if the signature was ruined or not. Your eyes traveled up the, yes, woman’s body, a familiar map of beauty stood in front of you.

“Wanda?” Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of her.

She had really gone all out, dressed as nice as possible for your big event. She wore high waisted black dress pants, paired with a deep purple blouse with even darker flowers printed across it. She was wearing your favorite wedges of hers. Her dark, faded out roots were pulled up in a half up, half down style, the long locks flowing down her back. It took everything in you to not let the tears that had filled your eyes to spill, pushing the book and marker away from you as you used the table to stand.

“Hi, pumpkin.” Wanda’s southern accent was the best thing you had heard all day, instantly warming you like nothing else had.

You all but flung yourself into her arms, uncaring of how hard you had hit the table with your thigh. Wanda would tell you to be more careful about it later, would kiss it better, you knew. You didn’t care about anything other than being in her arms, though.

“Wanda.” You all but whimpered into her neck where you had almost immediately pushed your face. She smelled the same as always, an earthy undertone that paved way to the light lavender you knew was her favorite perfume, even though she hardly used it. It fully encapsulated you, making the tears in your eyes burn even more as her arms wrapped around you.

“It’s good to see you too, sweetheart.” Wanda laughed heartily, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. Her hands ran up and down your back, a gentle strength to them that had you wanting more, to be held even closer. The hand holding your bracelet, her right hand, settled at your waist, while the other settled at the base of your head, softly carding through her hair.

She had held you like this far too many times to count, but you still melted in her hold, your breath hitching. The woman held you against her as you continued to fight off tears, taking in the sweet scent that enveloped you, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Time was non-existent to you once again as she stood holding you, humming softly. The only thing that you knew was that it was nowhere near enough time when she pulled back, holding you at an arm’s length with a beaming smile. She traced her left hand up to your face, cupping your cheek as she searched your eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back, biting your lip as it continued to tremble. Wanda shook her head, tsking under breath as she dropped her hand down to grasp your chin, tugging your lip out from between your teeth.

“You did so good up there, sugar.” Wanda pressed a kiss against your cheek, easily turning your head with the finger on your chin to press another to your opposite cheek. The nudish brown pigment of her lipstick just barely transferred onto your skin, something the woman would take a wet thumb to in mere moments. She kissed your lips chastely before doing so, giving you barely enough time to process what was happening before she was licking her thumb and rubbing at the lip marks.

“B-but… you…” You did your best to protest, shaking your head from side to side as you tried to escape her grasp. None of it made sense. She would’ve just gotten off of work maybe half an hour ago and would’ve had to book it through heavy rush hour traffic to get to your talk. There’s no way she could’ve seen you on the podium, let alone giving your speech.

“I what, hun? Use your big girl words now.” The brunette fixed you with a stern look as she stopped scrubbing at your cheek, tipping your head up. You couldn’t help but stare at her. The nude lip she had brought out the green in her eyes, the bright sun shining through the open windows forming something akin to a halo around her. She was gorgeous. Something straight out of one of your stories. It helped that the main character’s love interest had more than a few things in common with the woman.

“You… you were at work.” Your head cocked to the side just slightly, something you had definitely picked up from the woman, eyebrows furrowing. You pulled at your bracelet, the elastic snapping at your skin with a nice popping noise as the beads rattled. Wanda tsked, shaking her head as she grabbed your left wrist, pity written all over her face.

“Oh my, precious. I wasn’t actually at work. I was tryin’ to surprise you.” Her lips turned downwards, bringing your wrist up to her mouth with a kiss. It was obvious she wasn’t pitying you because you had snapped yourself with your bracelet, but rather because she knew how worried you must’ve been all day. The bracelet issue just happened to be a part of it.

“And what did I tell you would happen if you kept snappin’ that bracelet?” Her tone was anything but mean, if not more questioning than condescending.

The words had you easily blushing, tilting your head down as if to hide it. “That I wouldn’t get it back until you say so.” Your right hand hung loose at your side, left still grasped by the woman. You knew her eyes would be full of sorrow if you looked up, instead keeping your eyes down as you scuffed the ball of your foot against the tile. “‘M sorry.”

“Then why do you keep doin’ it, love bug? It hurts mommy when your hurt yourself.” Wanda’s voice was as sorrowful as you knew her eyes were, a tone of hurt overflowing her words.

You couldn’t help but look up anyways, your breath hitching at the sight of glossy eyes and a frown. It wasn’t often that she got upset with you in public, yet something about the silly bracelet you wore every day had made her tear up. The sight made tears come to your own eyes, your frown mimicking hers.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying!” You pleaded softly, watching as she snaked her finger up your wrist, easily interlacing your fingers. It was hard resisting the urge to kiss her, rocking back and forth just slightly on the balls of your feet. You hadn’t meant to upset her, hadn't even realized you were fiddling with the elastic until she had said something about it.

“It’s okay, pumpkin. I know you’re tryin’ and I am so, so proud of you.” Wanda’s free hand came up to hold your cheek, smiling softly at you as her eyes roamed your body, finally taking you all in. She hadn’t seen you since the night before, unless the way you slept curled up against her this morning counted, and had been dying to see you for hours, but had held off in hopes of surprising you.

“My baby girl.” Despite the fact that you had both been moments away from crying, a fresh shade of red covered your face, a heat protruding off of your cheeks as the woman pinched it with one hand.

“Wanda.” You groaned, suddenly aware of the fact that you were very much still in public. Your body twisted with you as you glanced around the room, thankful to see that no one was paying you any attention. Which was funny, seeing as how it was your booktalk.

That being said, you could feel a pair of eyes on you that certainly weren’t Wanda’s, spinning in the woman’s arms once again until you saw your editor. She was looking at the two of you with something you couldn’t detect. Jealousy? Disdain? Whatever it was, Agatha sent you a smirk and a wink as soon as you made eye contact before turning away from you.

You turned back to Wanda, slotting yourself under her chin once more. “When can we go home?” You asked in a small voice, uncaring if she could hear you or not. Of course she could though, her lips smacking quietly together.

“Whenever you want, buttercup.” Wanda could tell something was wrong, the way her arms wrapped around you even tighter than before was enough for you to know. You took a deep breath, frantically running your hands through her long hair. It was curled, tighter than usual, but not terrible. You felt weird all of a sudden, like your editor hated you and the entire room was shrinking.

“Can… Is now okay?” You asked a little louder. Wanda nodded, only pulling away enough to lift your chin up enough to meet her eyes.

“O-okay, sweet pea. We can leave right now, that’s what you want?” The woman phrased it like a question, her voice soft if not a little confused. You had been so happy to see her just moments ago, but now wanted to go home. Sure, she knew you weren’t the biggest fan of crowds, she herself wasn’t either, but she thought you would’ve wanted to at least enjoy the party before you left.

Whatever it was, though, she was more than willing to take you home, leaving you with a kiss to let your team know you were leaving before leading you out to her car, buckling you in before taking her spot in the drivers side. She took your hand in hers, the letters of your names on your bracelets rubbing against each other as she drove off.

#jane's fics #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #mommy wanda maximoff #southern mommy wanda maximoff #potentialy jealous agatha #part one

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luvhu9hes · 4 months

Text

It Was Only a Kiss | EE73 x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Content, Minors DNI, Underage Drinking, P in V, Thigh Riding, Cursing, use of pet names (baby, princess), not proofread, Slight Angst (If I missed anything please let me know)

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: So, this is my first time ever writing something like this, this is also my first time writing smut. Please let me know what you think of this, but I'm also sensitive so please be nice abt it, thank you! All love - Chaela <3

"Come on y/n/n please, it's been so long since we've gone out together" Lydia pleads as I try to hide under my comforter. Normally I would love to go out and party with her, but ever since she started dating our friend Mark I've turned into a major third wheel. Don't get me wrong, I love the two of them and how happy they make each other, but sometimes I'd like to be able to enjoy myself without having to watch them suck each other's faces. After a tremendous amount of prodding Lydia finally coerced me out of bed picking out my outfit for the party.

"Lyds, are you sure I should wear this? Isn't it a bit, much?" I ask as I rake my eyes over the outfit she chose. The outfit consisted of a black miniskirt, a red lacy top which showed off the tops of my breasts really nicely, and some matching black boots.

"It's perfect y/n/n you look hot, nobody will be able to keep their eyes off of you babes."

I roll my eyes at her comment and go to finish my hair and makeup before grabbing my keys and head out the door following behind Lydia. The Soph house, home of the University of Michigan hockey team was only a 10 minute drive from our dorms and we arrived in no time. We made our way inside, music blasting throughout the house practically making the walls shake. The house was hot and stuffy as the sea of bodies was full of young adults grinding and dancing along to the music the air smelling of smoke and alcohol. Almost immediately upon arriving the two girls are greeted by Mark.

"Hey babe" he smiles leaning down to press a kiss to his girlfriend's lips, he then turns to the other girl greeting her as well.

"Hey y/n/n, we've missed you" he says hugging his friend.

"Hey Marky, I've missed you guys too, i've just been busy" I lied not wanting to admit i've been avoiding hanging out with the couple. Just as the three of you were about to head towards the kitchen to pour yourselves some drinks an arm makes itself comfortable around my shoulder causing me to look up and see none other than Ethan Edwards. You weren't exactly sure how the rivalry had started, but for as long as you could remember you and Ethan had hated each other. Growing up next door to each other you and Ethan had been forced to spend time around each other, due to always going to the same school and our parents being good friends. When I had gotten accepted to University of Michigan I had expected to finally escape the brunette, but of course to my disappointment he had been accepted right along with me. At the sight of the boy I tried to contain the look of disgust in my face as I pushed his arm off from around my shoulders. Upon Ethan's arrival Lydia and Mark took it upon themselves to make their way to their other friends across the house.

"Wow y/n/n, it's good to see you too." Ethan teased as he moved to put his hands in his pockets.

"What do you want Ethan?" I asked getting irritated by his presence.

"Pump the hate breaks princess, I was just trying to be civil" Ethan states as he holds his hands up in defense.

I scoffed at the idea, Ethan Edwards? Civil? I think hell would freeze over before that happened. I tried to push past him and move towards to kitchen to get alcohol in my system, but of course he had to follow right behind me. I grabbed myself a beer from the fridge cracking it open and letting the golden liquid glide down my throat the sensation already seeming to ease my annoyance. That was until a set of arms were working to trap me against the fridge.

"Ethan, what are you doing" I asked in a questioning tone.

"Just admiring" the boy admits.

"Where the hell is this coming from Ethan? For as long as I can remember you've hated me" I asked him.

"Who says I hate you?" he questions.

"I don't know Ethan, maybe the way you've been an asshole since the day I moved in next door" I state in a matter of fact tone.

"I wasn't trying to be an asshole y/n" the use of my full name shocks me as he continues. "I just wanted to get to know the pretty girl next door, but the only way I could think to get your attention was to tease you." He finally admits.

"W- what? You're telling me all of these years you've been an ass because you had a crush on me?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I was doing" Ethan starts,

"and if you'd let me make it up to you I'd show you exactly how I feel for you princess"

"Oh yeah?" I asked, my voice just barely above a whisper

"Yeah" he breathes, his hands on my hips as he leans his face down towards mine his lips ghosting over mine as he says, "You have no idea how long i've wanted this."

"Just kiss me already Ethan" I mumble starting to get impatient. Ethan doesn't take a second longer to crash his lips onto mine. I never would have thought that I would be in the kitchen of the Soph house making out with Ethan Edwards, but here I was with one hand tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck, while the other still held onto the long forgotten can of beer I had grabbed minutes earlier. I tugged at the ends of his hair causing him to groan into my mouth allowing me to slip my tongue in and explore his mouth with my own. After what feels like hours we finally pull away to catch our breath, but within seconds I'm pulling Ethan back down to my lips kissing him with a bruising force. Soon Ethan begins trailing his lips down to my jawline and my neck causing me to tilt my head back in pleasure allowing him more access as he nips and starts to leave marks all over. I know that at this point my panties are dripping from the immense amount of pleasure i'm receiving in this moment.

"Eth.." I moan out as his hands begin to explore my body. He hums in response not fully acknowledging me. "Ethan" I repeat this time in a more firm tone.

At the sound Ethan lifts his head from my neck to look at me. "What's wrong princess? Do you not want this? I can stop it's no problem I just-" he begins to ramble worried he's scared me off.

"No Ethan, I want this, just not- not in the kitchen Ethan" I say reassuring him. Ethan gapes at me as though he had completely forgotten that we were still in the middle of the kitchen. "R-right, well then let's get out of here" Ethan says as he grabs my hand guiding me through the crowd of people and upstairs towards his room. The second the door is locked behind us my back is pushed up against the door as Ethan smashes his lips against mine with the same intensity as minutes ago in the kitchen. My hands go to tangle themselves within his hair once more has his go around yo cup the backs of my thighs. “Jump princess” he mumbles into my lips and I comply immediately eliciting a breathy “good girl” from him causing me to moan into the kiss and him to smirk. Ethan backs us up until he's sitting on the foot of his bed with me straddling his lap. As though my hips had a mind of their own they slowly began to rut against Ethan's causing him to pull away and groan. “What have you done to me Princess?”

“Less talking, please” I breathe out as I continue to grind my hips against his. Ethan lets out a chuckle as he goes to take off my top, looking at me for approval to which I nod. He slowly removes the article of clothing and gapes as my bare breasts are revealed. Starting to feel a bit self conscious I go to move my arms in front of my chest to which Ethan immediately grabs my wrist saying “Don't hide from me now Princess, you're gorgeous.” His hands move from my wrists, down to knead my breasts letting his thumbs flick over my hardening nipples.

“Oh God” I moan out at the sensation and before I can speak again Ethan is enclosing my nipple in his mouth licking and sucking at the bud eliciting a string of curses to come pouring out of my mouth. I tug at the strands of Ethan's hair pulling him away from my chest and back to my lips, my hands moving down his chest to palm his strained cock through his jeans. “Oh Princess” he groans. The two of us are quick to start stripping each other down leaving ourselves bare in front of each other. To say Ethan was attractive was an understatement, he quite literally looked like he had been sculpted by Greek Gods with his chiseled jaw, toned abs, and his incredibly muscular thighs which you couldn't help but staring at. Ethan caught your gaze and smirked as he began to speak, “I see you looking at my thighs Princess” you flush at the realization you've been caught, but he only continues when he says “does that turn you on Princess, the thought of getting off just by pleasuring yourself on my thigh. You like that idea don't you?” he pulls me in by my wrist choosing to run his fingers along my slick folds “Look at you Princess you're so wet f’’me already, c’mon baby come ride my thigh like a good girl” he begins to slur lust evident in his voice. Not being able to decline his request I move to sit with my cunt directly on his thigh as he puts his hands on my hips and begins to set the pace for me flexing his thigh every once in a while the muscles in his thigh touching my clit sending the most delicious sense of pleasure coursing through my body. I very quickly could feel the the very familiar knot tying in my stomach as Ethan quickened the pace enjoying the view of me getting off just at the feel of his thigh. Reaching between our bodies I snaked my hand down to my clit pressing tight circles only increasing the pleasure I was feeling at the moment. “I- I’m close” I'm barely able to muster out before my orgasm overtakes me and I clench my eyes shut leaning forward to bite Ethan's shoulder at the sensation.

Ethan mumbles sweet nothings in my ear as he moves his face to the crook of my neck leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. As I come down from my post orgasmic sensation I reach my hand down to begin stroking Ethan's cock which is angry due to its lack of attention. This is a sign to Ethan that I am ready for more. Quickly Ethan moves us around so that I am laying with my back against his mattress with him hovering over me leaning down to leave a kiss on my lips, this one was different from the others, not full of lust or need, it was a kiss full of passion and emotion. Ethan pulls away and looks me in the eyes with a look clearly asking for permission to which I quickly nod needing to feel him inside me. “Uh uh baby, I need words Princess” he says.

“Ethan please, need your cock. Need you t’ fill me up so good” I babble. That's all he needs to hear before teasing my folds with the tip of his cock and then pushing into my entrance without warning causing us both to moan out at the feeling.

“Fuck baby you're so tight f’me, milking my cock so good baby” Ethan groans into my ear.

“So full Eth. You fill me up so good” I practically cried.

Sure I had had hookups throughout the last few years, nobody had ever been able to please me like Ethan already had, and nobody even came close in size compared to Ethan. After adjusting to the stretch, I encouraged Ethan to move and he did just as I had asked. At first it was painful due to the new feeling but soon that pain was replaced with pleasure. Once the pain was gone I urged Ethan to to move faster to which he gladly obliged setting a harsh pace eliciting almost pornographic sounds from my mouth. All that could be heard throughout the room was the sounds of skin slapping and moans coming from both me and Ethan. The knot in my stomach began tightening again as I was starting to get closer and closer to my orgasm for the second time of the night. I could tell Ethan was getting close as well as I could feel his thrusts getting sloppier and his cock twitching inside of me at each thrust.

“‘m so close Ethan, so close” I breathe out.

“Me too Princess, I want you to cum with me baby, okay? Can you do that f’me baby?”

“Yes, please Ethan ‘m gonna cum”

Ethan reached between our bodies going to draw tight circles on my clit, pulling my orgasm out of me, my pussy fluttering around his cock milks his orgasm out of him as he lets himself lay on top of me. We lay there for a couple of minutes coming down from our highs basking in the post orgasmic feeling. Once we’ve caught our breath Ethan gets up pulling on his boxers leaning down to press a kiss to my lips before he heads to the bathroom. He returns with a washcloth in his hand going to clean the mess made between my thighs trying to be gentle as to not cause overstimulation. Ethan then goes to grab me a pair of his boxers and a shirt for me to sleep in. After I get dressed Ethan opens his arms for me to come join him under the covers to which I happily obliged laying with Ethan as we slowly drifted off to sleep, deciding to leave the conversation about where this will lead for tomorrow.

fin.

a/n: I have no clue how I feel about this or if I even like this but yk 💁🏻‍♀️

#ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards x y/n #umich hockey x reader #ethan edwards #ethan edwards imagine #ethan edwards smut #mark estapa #luke hughes #nhl hockey #nhl smut #nhl social media au

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bratzforchris · 1 month

Note

Can we get Matt x little!fem reader? And she’s been having a tough day and she’s finally comfortable enough to start sleeping into little space because Matt’s there? 🤍

Sleepy Baby

Summary: Above!

Pairing: Matt x little and feminine!reader

Warnings: Mentions of childhood trauma

Word Count: 993

A/N: Thank you for the request! This was actually so cute 🎀🧸 As always, age regression is nonsexual and innocent. Hate towards myself/my readers/my works will be blocked--if you don't like it, don't read it! Enjoy<3

Despite only having been together for a few months, Matt was arguably a blessing from the universe. Being your first boyfriend, you had been slightly scared about how he would treat you, especially when you told him about some of the trauma you had experienced at a young age that had caused you to be slightly averse to relationships. However, the brunette had been nothing but accepting, always cuddling you, kissing you, reassuring you, and overall making sure that you felt loved. Even when you two had to have the difficult conversation regarding your regression and why you did it, Matt had been nothing but open and loving with you.

The way Matt learned of your regression was purely an accident. He would never snoop through your private belongings. Rather, he had been looking for one of his hoodies that had been missing for a month now. He finally found it in your corner of the shared closet, and when he had retrieved it from the floor, a pacifier, teether, and bottle fell out. His first thought was that you were pregnant and had yet to tell him, but upon inspection, the pacifier was much too large for an infant.

Always being open to conversations and problem solving in your relationship, Matt had simply asked you about the things with a gentle look on his face. Despite your tears and panic over how your boyfriend now viewed you, you went on to explain that you reverted to a younger headspace to cope with your childhood trauma and usually to escape the anxiety of adult life. Though the age varied, your littlespace was around that of a two to a four year old. Matt had been soft with you the entire time, promising that he still loved you just the same and that he was happy you were healing and coping in a healthy way. He had even offered to be your caregiver, but you simply shook your head, cuddling into his side. As much as you adored Matt and his love, regressing around someone else was a step you weren't quite ready for.

It had been about three months since the conversation with Matt, and you still hadn’t slipped around your boyfriend. He had encouraged your regression by buying you stuffed animals and sometimes even new decorated pacifiers, but he also understood that it might take you a while to share such a large and “embarrassing” thing with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to; rather, you were so anxious about Matt changing his mind about loving you once he saw you actually regressed. You still slipped, of course, but it was never when Matt was home.

All of that was going to change today, though. For some reason, everything that could go wrong, did. You had spilled hot coffee on your white blouse at work, then your lunch order had been delivered to the wrong office, and finally, you had gotten stuck in a hour-long traffic jam on your commute home. As soon as you stepped in your and Matt’s shared apartment, you flopped down on the living room floor and began to cry. Was it childish? Sure. But you had had an awful day, and being tired and emotional were your biggest headspace triggers.

Matt came out of his office when he heard you wailing, looking down at you on the living room floor. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked sadly, sitting beside you.

“Everything!” You wailed.

“Wanna elaborate on that?” he asked with a gentle smile, pulling you into his lap.

You began to recount the story of your awful day, clinging to Matt’s shirt as your tears stained the gray fabric. You could feel yourself slipping with every passing second, but honestly, you were too tired to care. “...an so tiwed.” You sobbed finally, fully slipping into your headspace.

Matt froze at the sudden change in your voice, but you didn’t seem to notice his hesitation. Your boyfriend just rubbed your back for a moment before quietly whispering. “Daddy’s here, honey. I’ve got you. Everything’s okay, baby.”

The few sentences alone were enough to make you stop crying as you snuggled into Matt’s hold. Unbeknownst to you, he had been reading up on age regression ever since that day, learning as much as he could about how to help you. He knew that gentle words and speaking of himself in the third person usually helped, and it was clearly working. Your tears had slowly reduced to sniffles and little hiccups as you relaxed in his hug.

Matt allowed you two to sit on the floor for a while, before he slowly stood up with you in his arms and carried you to your shared bedroom. He knew that you probably wouldn’t want to talk a lot right now, but that was okay. He simply changed you into one of your soft onesies that you kept in your dresser, before tucking you in softly and laying down beside you. He continued to hum sweet, nonsensical things to you as he plucked your pacifier from the nightstand and slipped it between your lips.

It wasn’t long until you were encased in snuggles from Matt, comfy onesie on, pacifier in your mouth, and your favorite stuffie that had a recording of his voice in it in your hand. Your boyfriend knew that a lot of conversations would have to be had after this occurrence, but right now, he simply enjoyed the time with his little one, admiring the way your eyes had glossed over and your lips had a little smile as you yawned. Just before you fell asleep, you said something that made Matt’s heart swell, and reminded him that this was exactly what he was meant to do.

“I loves you, Daddy.” You whispered as you slowly fell asleep.

“I love you, baby girl.” he whispered back just as gently, knowing that today was just the start of something beautiful.

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cacoetheswriting · 1 month

Text

celebrity skin. (part eight)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 5.2k summary: a reconciliation in New York leads to a rediscovery of not-so-hidden feelings and answers to previously avoided questions — plus more.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, post-breakup emotional hurt / comfort, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail, & kinda rough smut (unprotected p in v sex) — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

One thing Eddie had been absolutely sure of: Stevie Nicks was right.

The trip to New York City was carried out solely on a whim. A gut feeling that the brunette rockstar could not quite shake. He had to see you, despite the possible consequences, and Eddie was smart enough to know there would be a lot. He acted like an ass and whether you would admit it or not, he knew he broke your heart.

Ever since his rise to fame, the Corroded Coffin frontman felt this bubble around him. A bubble created by his team, his band, his past, and his own disruptive behaviour — don’t do drugs was a warning he witnessed (and ignored) many times on posters too colourful for the subject matter, plastered on the walls of Hawkins High. Seemingly, the bubble protected Eddie from predators. Leeches that wanted to take advantage of his fame. Unfortunately, the bubble also shielded him from love.

Love.

If the rockstar wasn’t so afraid of the feeling as a result of that bubble, perhaps he would have made different choices in all of his past relationships. Most importantly, perhaps Eddie would have made different choices in the one relationship that’s meant more to him than any other. If he wasn’t so afraid of love, and being in love, perhaps he would’ve fought to be with you a little harder.

And love is definitely how Eddie would describe what he felt towards you. Correction. Feels towards you to this very day. Maybe more, if that was possible considering he hasn’t seen you in months.

So yes, Stevie Nicks was right. The concept of Silver Springs was right.

Seeing you again only affirmed that belief. Talking to you again, witnessing your smile for the first time in months… Well, Eddie never wanted to be apart from you for longer than he already had been. Unfortunately, that wasn’t up to him. Not for as long as your grandmother had her claw all up in your business and stuck her nose where it did not belong.

“So, what happens now?” The rockstar asks, only slightly afraid of the answer.

You hum under your breath, taking a moment to think, gathering your own thoughts. The sun is slowly rising in the distance, so the first response that comes to mind is that you should go home, and Eddie should go back to his hotel, Max’s place, or wherever the hell he’s been staying, before this place starts crawling with people. That would mean saying goodbye for lord knows how long and you were just starting to get comfortable with being around the rockstar again, although, not like that was insanely hard. Whatever. Simply, you didn’t want to say goodbye.

“We could go get breakfast,” you finally say.

Eddie smirks. “As much as like that idea, sweetheart, I didn’t really mean now in the full sense of the word.”

You laugh softly.

“Okay, hotshot.” Turning your head back to look at Eddie, you raise a brow. “What do you think should happen?”

The rockstar smacks his lips together before resting his elbow on one of his knees and bringing his thumb to his mouth. A nervous tick.

“Putting whatever reason I came here for aside, starting over seems like a bad idea since we’ve done that once before and it didn’t really end the way either of us hoped,” he says after a beat of silence, avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah,” you exhale, “Bad idea. Plus you said so yourself, you’re not the relationship type. Getting back together would be redundant.”

“Right,” Eddie agrees quietly, although he really doesn’t want to.

There’s another moment of silence. Nothing but the sound of morning birds chirping melodically and wind gust hitting the water ahead. In the quiet, there is solace. In the quiet, Eddie doesn't have to answer difficult questions or have conversations neither of you really wants to have. A blissful ignorance of what’s really happening here.

He still loves you. You most likely still love him.

It’s all just terrible timing for two people who are — in his mind, at least — made for eachother, but for one reason or the other, can’t be together. Not in this lifetime. Not with people controlling what they can or cannot do. Not with the whole world watching their every move. It hurt. Hurt that a life you both chose was also the life that’s actively destroying something good.

“We could try being friends?” Eddie offers eventually, looking at you then.

You smile. “Friends. I think I like that.”

Holly is the only person you’re fully comfortable talking to about all of this. She listens, actively nodding along as you spew your thoughts and feelings out loud, until the rambles become too hard to follow. Holly, ever the best friend that she’s always been, places her perfectly manicured hands on your shoulders and gives your body one shake to get you back on track when the story becomes a little too convoluted. And this one is all over the place.

There’s the run in at Saks, the meeting with Max, the plan, the date with Steve, all that leads to Eddie Munson banging on your front door until you let him inside. There’s the emotionally heightened conversation that doesn’t really amount to much. The dinner with your family that opened things up to questions from your nosh sisters and scrutiny from your Nana. Then there was Coney Island.

You pause.

It’s messy, for sure, and your feelings are all over the place as you recount each and every minor detail, which leads you to why you invited her over in the first place: what the fuck do you do about Eddie Munson?

Holly usually gives you advice. Parts of which you want to hear and take on board, parts of which you both know will be ignored. This time however, as you do your best to explain what’s been on your mind — and heart — since the rockstar arrived in New York, this time Holly doesn’t know what to say.

“I don’t know if I should forgive him.”

“Jeff says he’s been, like, super sullen all summer long. Locked in that house of his, or at the studio, working on shit he won’t let the band see.”

“That’s supposed to make it easier for me to do what, exactly? He’s secretive, that’s for sure. Hiding stuff from his band, from his sister, from me…”

You reach for the packet of smokes that Holly brought with her and light one, hand shaking ever so slightly.

“I got virtually nothing from him that night in my apartment. Slightly more under the Wonder Wheel, but still not enough to understand why he did what he did,” you exhale a puff of smoke, “Yet I can’t help but think that despite everything, especially ignoring the weeks I spent in bed because of him, we’re like meant for each other, you know?”

Holly too lights a cigarette. She also doesn’t answer you.

“That’s kinda pathetic, no?”

“I think until you get the entire truth, it won’t matter whether you get back with him or just be his friend, or whatever, ‘cause you’re not going to be fully happy. Not really,” she explains, avoiding your question because there’s close to nothing worse than admitting to your friend that they’ve lost it completely.

“So I should confront him?”

“Jeff says Eddie doesn’t do well with confrontations.”

You groan. Head falling back on the cushioned sofa.

“Maybe I should just fuck him,” you think out loud, “Get all this frustration out and then just move on with my life.”

Holly laughs. “Just don’t let him finish,” she says, “Karma’s a bitch, and whatnot.”

New York City is your favourite place on Earth.

Despite your years of extensive travel to tour your various albums or attend different global award shows, New York, your home, has always been top of the list. Elegant, albeit slightly messy. Organised, although a little rowdy. It’s colourful, but dull. Full of people from every corner of the world, which only added to its pre-existing charm. You didn’t really think it was possible to fall in love with it even more until you’ve started to explore it all over again with none other than Eddie Munson — under a new guise of something called friendship.

The rockstar decided to extend his trip. Currently, there is no return date. Exploring New York became the only thing on his agenda.

The two of you did your best to stay under the radar, away from prying eyes. Although, not like it was necessarily needed as Eddie’s idea of sight seeing involved bar hopping. Old-ish, rather shitty places that have definitely seen better days, but Eddie, he was like a kid in a candy store. With every beer poured and every bowl of peanuts shared, he lit up more and more.

“They remind me of home,” he finally explains, two days into your NYC adventure. “Of Hawkins.”

You smile at him, but don’t say anything.

“What?” Eddie asks when he notices the look, mouth now full after taking another handful of the perhaps hundredth packet of peanuts the two of you have shared over the last few days.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, swirling the gold-ish liquid inside your beer bottle, “I guess it’s just nice that some small part of my home reminds you of your home.”

Eddie returns the fond expression. Friends is good, he thinks at that moment while catching another peanut with his mouth, not ideal, but good.

“There was this bar,” he says, leaning across the table so that he could be a little closer to you, “The Hideout. Our first venue, outside of Gareth’s garage, and the only place in my crappy hometown where I didn’t feel like an outsider.”

“Places like the Hideout, places like this.” Eddie swirls his finger in the air to show he means your current location, “They’ll always have a special place in my heart, I guess. They’re a part of me. Part of Corroded Coffin history.”

He stares at you for a minute. He’d never share this much with a friend, so perhaps this new concept you’ve both found yourselves in is not as good as the rockstar would like to think. “We could try being friends?” — Eddie’s second guessing his suggestion just as fast as he came up with it.

“We should see more of your home,” he finally states, “As much as I love them, I think we’ve seen all the dingy bars New York has to offer, so I’m open to suggestions.”

You bring the beer bottle to your lips and take a slow sip of the now semi-warm liquid, pondering his request.

Where could you take Eddie that would represent your love for New York. The Statue of Liberty seems a little basic, as does Times Square — especially since you’ve both performed there in the past. Rockefeller Centre to see the street performers? The Met, even though both of you will most likely be invited next year to the exhibit. In reality, all of the touristy spots like Central Park, for example, would be a little too crowded for either of you to feel safe and remain unseen.

Then your eyes glisten with an idea.

What’s more homey than a home itself: Cove City Sound Studios.

To any average person, it was just another recording studio found in New York. One of hundreds. To you however, it was heaven on earth.

Located in Glen Cove, New York, Cove City Sound Studios had been home to many artists before you came along. A lot of albums were recorded here. A lot of number one hits — the list of which you were lucky to join more than once.

You always thought the ambiance of this place fueled your creativity. Often said the reason behind your resounding success was because you got the opportunity to record here. Of course Holly, Val, and especially your Nana, corrected you every time those words had left your lips. “You’re the reason behind your success,” your Nana would affirm, “Not some recording studio.”.

But you knew. Felt it deep within your bones. Cove City Sound Studios was magic.

“Damn,” Eddie mutters under his breath, fingers gently running across the various buttons as his doe-eyes dart across the posters on the wall — one of which features your 1985 album cover (a record once hidden under Eddie’s bed back in Hawkins).

“Here I thought the place we recorded Honesty in was impressive,” he admits, “This though, this is another level.”

A smile circles your lips.

“Welcome to my home, Eddie Munson.”

The rockstar dips his head, sort of in a way of a little bow, and smiles so wide it makes your insides flutter. Friends, friends, friends. You repeat inside your mind, same thing Eddie is doing, although neither of you are aware. Friends hiding their true feelings.

“I’m honoured, sweetheart.” Eddie adds, placing a ring-clad hand on his heart.

“As you should be,” you tease and walk past him, pushing open a door into the vocal booth.

The Corroded Coffin frontman follows you with zero to no hesitation. He watches as you slowly circle the small room before standing in front of a microphone, adjusting it to your height.

“I recorded every single one of my songs here apart from Honesty,” you reveal without looking at him. Focusing instead on tightening the metal rod in place. “Hundreds of records that will probably never see the light of day because my label doesn’t think they are good enough.”

Eddie snorts. “As if you could make something that wasn’t deemed good. We wrote shit together, remember? I know how good you are.”

Your lips twist into a timid smile and glance up at him from your lashes. “I appreciate that Eds, but unfortunately the industry doesn’t work that way and you, of all people, should understand.”

“Well, yeah, but doesn’t your grandmother have some sort of special power to get you whatever the fuck you want.”

It’s your turn to snort. “She may be resourceful, but she’s got no control over my management team. Even if she likes to think she does, the only real ability my Nana possesses is tell me what to wear and how to act.”

Eddie nods, taking note of this information. Knowledge he can use to free himself from deceit, blackmail.

Valuable insight into the evil woman that ruined his life since, as you’ve now so beautifully explained, she’s not nearly as formidable as she presented herself to be. A light at the end of the tunnel.

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to listen to it,” you say, breaking Eddie away from his thoughts.

“What?”

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to listen to Honesty. Because I didn’t record it here.” Nothing to do with the fact that it’s soiled by the memory of the last morning we saw each other, you think, clearly lying to yourself, and him.

Eddie swallows his breath. A twinge of guilt rushes through him. Actually, more than a twinge. A gush, like a waterfall out of control. He’s sure of it now. The two of you could never be just friends. Not until you knew the whole truth about why he did what he did and now that he knew your grandmother had a weakness in her armour, perhaps offering you the truth is something he could do sooner rather than later.

“Then maybe we should change that,” Eddie offers and proceeds to quickly shuffle out of the room, leaving you alone for a second.

You watch through the glass separating the two spaces as he scans the buttons, hands on his hips, tip of his tongue out to indicate he’s thinking. He looks cute and you fail to conceal a smile, so you opt to hang your head and stare at your shoes because you can’t afford to think he’s any sort of desirable. Just friends.

After taking a moment to familiarise himself with a new system, Eddie finds what he’s looking for and switches it on, before hurrying back to stand next to you.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” you affirm while putting a pair of headphones on.

For the next four minutes and twenty-two seconds, you get lost in the chocolate of Eddie’s eyes as you once again sing the song he wrote about you.

“Honestly, you got me fallin’ to my knees

It’s like ecstasy, this feelin’ inside of me

Let’s call it honesty”

Cove City Sound Studios creates magic. You’ve always believed it and now it’s only been affirmed because the way your voice melts with his — no band, no distractions — is nothing short of perfection.

“You’re a devil in disguise

No, that’s what I want you to be

‘Cause in reality, hon’, you’re a hypnotic dream

An angel for sure

To a non-believer like me

Oh honesty, what have you done to me, honestly”

That’s why the song was a hit in the first place. Now you understand why your management team pushed you to do this collaboration in the first place. Magic. And as Eddie draws the last syllable without breaking eye contact, you’re transported back to the night you met. The night that inspired this song.

The night that started all of this.

His mind wanders to the same moment, same place, same spot. Friendship is a word that no longer makes sense, but the rockstar doesn’t want to ruin anything (again), so he drops the headphones and exits the booth without saying anything.

You follow him with your gaze. A feeling of longing spreads through you faster than you know what to do with it. It’s unfortunately accompanied by fear because you’re not stupid, far from it. Eddie’s hurt you twice before. Going back in only to get burned a third time would be a grave mistake and you know better than to go down that road again. ‘Cause you do know better, right?

Then this morning’s conversation with Holly enters your mind. Your best friend was right. You could never be happy around him if you didn’t know the truth.

“Eddie, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think if you didn’t end things when you did, we’d still be together? Or do you think we were doomed regardless?”

He takes a moment to answer. Avoiding looking up through the glass to meet your curious gaze, anxious for an answer.

“I already told you.” His deep voice eventually booms through the speakers. “I’m not the relationship type.”

“Bullshit,” you’re quick to state. It comes out harsher than intended.

“Sweetheart—” He’s shaking his head, still without looking at you.

“No, don’t you fucking dare,” you interrupt, suddenly feeling deflated by this whole situation, defeated in the fight against your feelings towards him. “Like I said before, you don’t get to sweetheart me and give me some bullshit vague answer.”

Eddie’s eyes are now closed. He’s hoping if he shows how he wants no part of this conversation — not right now, not before he gets to speak to your management and then offers you up the truth — that you will let it go. Like you did that night in Coney Island and those last few days too. You seemingly let it go and everything was okay. Fucking friends.

“I gave in too quickly. Into your presence. I missed you so much that when you showed up at my door, it didn’t matter how angry or heartbroken I was. All that mattered was seeing you again and being around you again. But I should’ve stood my ground.”

You’re now standing right in front of the glass window. Arms hanging by your side, nails digging into your palms to pump the adrenaline that’s fueling this fight.

“No matter how many times you tell me that you’re not the relationship type, I won’t believe you. I refuse to believe you because that guy I met in an empty kitchen of a Hidden Hills mansion was looking for something more than a random hook up. He may not have said it, but he proved it with his actions,” you continue your reasonings, “He craved something meaningful. I saw it in the way he smiled every time his eyes met mine, and sensed it in the way he held me close.”

Then you exhale.

“That guy, although hiding behind a mask of an arrogant dickhead, he wanted to be loved and Jesus Christ did I—”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to you then, widening.

“But if I got it all wrong,” you continue after a few seconds, “If I misunderstood that guy and what he really wanted, then all I need is for him to be straight with me,” you conclude, “No bullshit excuses, Eddie. If you simply didn’t like me, if you simply didn’t care, just say that and we can both carry on with our lives as if nothing ever happened.”

The door slams. Eddie stands in front of you in a flash, brown eyes holding onto yours with force. He’s agitated. He runs a hand down his face before reaching for your shoulders, then dropping his arms back by his side just as fast.

“I cared, of course I cared!” He exhales to compose himself before continuing, “I still care.” It’s barely a whisper.

“Then why?”

“I-I… Well, I just…”

His mind is racing to find the right answer. The truth is what you’re after, unfortunately that’s the one thing he can’t give you yet. Not if he wants to continue witnessing your success. Because, at the end of the day, his own fame and fortune is no longer important. He could care less if it burned to the ground. Your fame however, your fortune, that’s not something Eddie’s willing to gamble. So again, until he can speak to your management, get ahead of your grandmother’s scheming, the truth will remain sealed.

At least some part of it.

“There was this girl. Back home.” Eddie begins, voice shaky, “Before you, she was the only girl that ever saw me for who I really was.”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” you say her name.

Eddie nods.

“Yeah, Chrissy,” he repeats the name. It tastes a little foreign on his tongue after all this time. “Seemingly the classic cheerleader type, you know? Blonde, preppy, always fucking smiling. But Chrissy, she uh… she was far from just a cheerleader. Like me, she was a little misunderstood and that’s what initially brought us together.”

“What happened to her?” You ask. “You keep saying ‘was’. Chrissy was, as if she’s no longer—”

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie interrupts, “I-I don’t really talk about her. I don’t like to. Too many bad memories.”

“Right,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

“Long story short, I cared for her and it didn’t end well, so when my care for you started to surpass that feeling… I just got scared.”

“Then why not tell me about her in the first place?” You query, “We could’ve talked it out. Pumped the brakes on whatever our relationship was starting to become.”

Eddie doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs. “And then what, huh? Just tip-toe around how we’re actually feeling until that builds resentment? Then it just ends anyway, but it hurts a lot more, no?”

He’s running a hand through his wild locks. Frustrated wouldn’t be the right word. Annoyed feels borderline the same. Angry, yes, but not at you. Angry at the world for introducing such a perfect character into his otherwise shitty life because he’d be better off without you. No. You’d be better off without him? Also no. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking confused.

“That’s what you asked. If I didn’t end things, would we still be together. The truth is, sweetheart, I don’t know because I attract bad shit and people get hurt and… And I need you to be happy, with or without me.”

Silence falls upon the two of you. It’s heavy with the half-truths that were just revealed. Heavy with the underlying tones that are telling you Eddie still cares, and telling him that so do you — more than either of you were willing to admit back then, and even less now.

And there’s definitely feelings there. They bubbled up the second you laid your eyes on him again and as your few days together passed without a major blowout, they only grew stronger — something you explained to Holly, who said that Eddie was so unlike you, it only made sense to feel something towards him. Love him, even.

Perhaps the hurt was worth it.

“Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Eddie’s brows string together as you momentarily glance at your feet before settling your gaze back on the rockstar.

“Guess we were never supposed to do this right.”

“What?” Eddie asks again.

“You said that to me. Back in LA after that picture of us was leaked to the press, remember?”

“Vaguely,” he answers.

“What if you were right?” You ask, tone a little quieter than seconds prior.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not sure I’m following.”

Decided on your next move, in what you want to happen, you take a step towards the Corroded Coffin frontman so that the tips of your heels are touching his loosely tied Converse. You then place a hand on his chest, albeit hesitantly, and Eddie inhales a sharp breath (loud enough for you to hear).

“What if all of this, everything that happened between us, is because we were never meant to do this right in the first place, Eds?”

A timid smile circles your lips as the question you asked settles in the air. Loaded full of uncertainty for the future and everything that time ahead holds for the two of you. Your Nana would say that a person of your stature shouldn’t give into uncertainty, something that in Eddie’s case was often repeated by Marianne. Everything is always meticulously planned. No room for error because uncertainty leads to mistakes and those are a nightmare for your respective PR teams. Unfortunately for those teams, uncertainty is what drew you to each other in the first place.

That, and insane fucking attraction.

“I did come here because I regret my decision,” he says while you say, “I miss you.” Both come out at the same time. Mumbled, jumbled together. It registers though.

Without giving it a second thought, Eddie dips his head lower while his hands reach for your face, ring-clad fingers now holding your cheeks. In that same breath, his lips crash against yours in a yearning kiss — one that is fuelled by months of pent up tension and a desire you both shared since your first meeting back in August of ‘92.

It's a dance of fire. One that is burning bigger and brighter with every second his mouth is attached to yours. Dangerous, would be a good word to describe this moment, but the line has been crossed yet again and since there’s definitely no going back now, your fingers tangle themselves in his brown locks as you push your body closer. Eddie also gets braver. He bites down on your bottom lip and when you gasp ever so softly, the rockstar slides his tongue in with ease.

You feel elated. This is exactly what you’ve been missing and by the way Eddie’s tongue twirls within your mouth, hands squishing your face, afraid to let go, you know it’s what he’s been missing too.

It’s destructive, for sure. But the hurt is worth it. You know that now. You feel it. Every single fibre of your being grows more and more alive as Eddie presses into you further, as he caresses your skin with so much tenderness. And you’re beyond cloud nine. Beyond touching heaven. It’s destructive, but it’s bliss.

“If we keep kissing like this,” he whispers against your lips, forehead pressing against yours, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to contain myself.”

“Who says you have to?”

Eddie groans against your jawline before continuing to trail soft pecks along your skin until he reaches your ear, biting it gently.

“We should probably talk about what this means,” he says, but you just shake your head. “‘Cause friends don’t kiss like that, sweetheart.”

“I don’t care about that now, Eds.” You affirm, sure of what you want. Sure that you don’t ever want to forget him or move on. He is a part of you, forever. “I just want you.”

And with that your lips finds his again.

The kiss is feverish, messy. You’re tugging at each other’s clothes, desperately trying to get them out of the way as fast as possible. In an attempt to be even closer, propelled by an indescribable urge, Eddie shifts your positions so that his back is the one to the room, you’re by the wall, and mere seconds later, your back is pressed firmly against his chest.

His strong hands send shivers through your body as they make their way down until they reach your panties, skirt long disregarded, a garment on the floor. He no longer hesitates about what this means, ripping the material down before his feet are kicking your legs apart. Ring-clad fingers slide along the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh, desperate to feel you. All of you. And as one hand works to unzip his pants, the other works its way to your wet entrance, feeling along your slit.

“Please, please…” The excitement causes you to grow warm and moist in his hand.

He can’t contain himself. Removing his hand in a rapid manner, he pushes his cock inside of your starved pussy. You close your eyes at the contact and Eddie begins to fuck you, hard. Rhythm picks up rapidly and you’re clenching around him in a matter of minutes, lower muscles seizing at the contact they’ve long forgotten, but were now more than pleasantly reminded of.

“God,” he groans, “I fucking missed you.”

The moan that escapes your lips is nothing short of pornographic. It’s a direct response to his words, as well as his actions. He’s pounding into you relentlessly. There’s no time for pleasantries or any sort of softness. This is all about fulfilling a need-based desire and you’re more than willing to comply, high on his voice when he praises “Fuck, baby”, and “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.”

When you feel his hands grip your hips, you moan his name. Loud, pathetic. Undone. The rockstar begins to bounce you against him. Your knees weaken and you fall back onto him, head now resting on his shoulder, losing yourself completely in the moment and the pure ecstasy that you’re feeling. The pleasure is almost too much for you.

“Eddie, I’m so close,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes.

The Corroded Coffin frontman captures your mouth with his. Short, but far from sweet is the kiss. Hungry and devilish. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away, drawing just a prick of blood.

“Let go for me, baby.”

When you do, obeying his request, your whole body shivers harshly in his embrace. Eddie keeps going, only his pace has slowed. He’s whispering sweet-nothings into your ear, continuously praising you for being his good girl, and you promise yourself that no matter what happens next, you’re going to be that forever.

The high soon ends and Eddie pushes you forward gently. You then feel the rockstar’s cock leave you, warm cum spurting over your ass without warning. You’re delighting in the feeling of his juices on your skin. He delights in it too, trailing his fingers over your rear until you turn around to face him.

There’s a smile on your face. Devious, yet benevolent.

Yes, Eddie thinks, Stevie Nicks was definitely right. ‘You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.’ Not like he’d ever want to anyway.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

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& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

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megu-meow · 1 year

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serious - gojo satoru

gojo satoru x fem. reader

Summary: 4+1 times Gojo acts like a serious adult

When you first met Gojo Satoru you found it hard to take him seriously. He was goofy, always acting like a child in an extremely handsome adult's body. The first time he told you he wanted to take you out on a date you assumed he was joking so you rudely laughed into his face. That was the point he decided he would prove to you that he could act like a responsible adult.

It was not often you came back from a mission beaten up. You were a strong woman physically and a uniquely talented sorcerer. It was one of the first things Gojo noticed about you and the main reason he has taken an interest in you. As much as he hated the teachings and the opinions of his clan members, he couldn't ignore it when someone proved themselves as sorcerers, he tended to show respect towards others solely based on their strength. So normally, he was interested in you upon witnessing your strength for the first time.

When you walked into Shoko's office all beaten up, interrupting their gossiping session, he was surprised to see the state you were in. You rolled your eyes upon seeing him in there, expecting him to start making fun of you and snapping pictures with the intent of shoving them to the kids. You were surprised to see the worried expression on his face as he didn't hesitate to quickly eliminate the distance between the two of you, carefully helping you onto the hospital bed so that the brunette woman could check you out and start taking care of your wounds.

You're even more surprised when the next morning, even though you were dismissed by Shoko after she tended to your wounds, he shows up in your room with the intent of changing your bandages. You try to protest but to no avail. He is adamant about taking care of you and you give in. He is gentle and even with his eyes covered you can tell that he's serious and attentive. He keeps doing that every single time until all your wounds are healed up perfectly and he considers you capable of taking on a new mission.

II.

You messed up. You were fighting a stubborn curse and the situation seemed to be hopeless. It was an unregistered special grade that showed up at a busy area in Kabukicho. You did all the formalities like putting up a veil and whatnot, but you didn't notice the elderly woman taken hostage by the curse and upon laying down your domain expansion and exorcizing the curse, the woman lost her life. The higher-ups were furious and they were pestering you for the few days that passed since the incident as if the burden of taking an innocent person's life wasn't enough for you to bear. You were called in for a meeting with the elderly, foolish leaders of the Jujutsu World once again, this time you were convinced you wouldn't get out of there alive. But as soon as you stepped into the dimly lit room, where the cowardly elders were sitting behind panels hiding their identities from everyone, you spotted non-other than Satoru Gojo, in his casual clothes, blindfold nowhere to be seen, his glimmering eyes burning up with hot rage.

"... and I swear to god If I hear about you, weaklings, pestering any of my colleagues ever again I will kill you all with my bare fucking hands. Everyone makes mistakes, that's what being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is about. If I have to come back here one more time, and this is a promise, you grannies will never see the light of day again." he said harshly, storming out upon finishing a monologue. You followed him with your gaze and he turned around, giving you a small wink. It's safe to say, the higher-ups didn't bother you after that.

III.

Ever since your tragic mission, you were slowly losing yourself. The guilt was eating you alive so you drowned yourself in more work, barely taking time to sleep or even eat. Gojo noticed immediately how the glimpse disappeared from your eyes, how your skin was grayer than before, how you started losing weight and the bags under your eyes getting bigger and bigger. Even on your day off, when Yaga refused to give you any more missions for a few days, you were at the school training the students. He wanted to warp out onto the training field to pick you up and force you into your bed right after feeding you some amazing ramen from the restaurant down the street, but he knew you would be furious if he did that in front of the students.

So he stood on the edge of the field, keeping an eye on you from afar. You were slow and you were making mistakes, if it wasn't for the awareness of the students, you could have gotten hurt, but they were holding back, knowing that you were not in great shape. He sensed it. His eyes showed him what was about to happen, so with a clap of his hands, he was right beside you in time to catch you, before you lost consciousness and your limp body fell into his hands.

"Megumi, can you pass me that water, please?" he asked calmly as he laid you down on the ground, lifting your legs so that the blood could circulate toward your brain. You regained consciousness in a few minutes and the white-haired sorcerer handed you the water straight away. You drank the whole thing and you looked at the tall man thankfully. He smiled lightly, picking you up bridal style and he started walking towards the dormitories. You didn't even try to protest, you were too weak to do so.

"I'm going to take you to my room, I will tuck you into bed, you will eat some ramen and you're gonna take a long-needed nap. Alright, sweetheart?" You nodded weakly as you felt your heart beating like crazy upon hearing the worried tone of his voice.

"Why do you care, Gojo-senpai?"

"You don't have to call me that, you know? You can call me Satoru. Actually, I would prefer that over that formal stuff." he said, without looking at you "And of course I care."

You didn't think that was an answer to your question, but you didn't say anything. You were content with what you've gotten.

So that afternoon you did exactly what Satoru said. He tucked you into his bed with a variety of movies, he got you some delicious ramen that you finished in no time. He wanted to leave you so that you could nap, but as he was about to close the door to his room from the outside you whispered a soft 'please stay' and he gladly did. He got under the duvet and you rested your head onto his broad chest. He held you tightly as you napped, softly stroking your hair.

IV.

After that incident on the training field, Gojo kept on taking care of you. He always checked whether you have eaten that day or if you had enough rest, and he made sure that you took care of yourself. How did he do that, you may ask? He would bring food to your office or to your room if he got back from a mission late at night, always joining you for lunch or dinner. If you had dinner together, he would stay the night, cuddled up to you, making sure you got a good night's rest. If you shared lunch, he would sneak into your room at night or text you to join him in his, but the cuddling was a must every single night. You got to the point where you found it hard to fall asleep without him by your side, a realization which led to the conclusion that you have developed feelings for him.

Besides all of those gestures, he never showed any signs of being interested in you. This led to your current situation: drinking away your feelings at a bar close to campus. You were tired of wondering whether he liked you more than a friend or a co-worker, the thought eating you alive slowly. You heard he was kind of a womanizer, however, you never heard about him being with anyone at that time. You didn't want him to be with anyone else, you wanted to be the one to make him want to settle down. The uncertainty was draining tho and it kept getting worse and worse with each passing day.

"There you are! I was looking for you, sweetheart. I was worried something bad has happened to you." he said walking up to your table with a frantic tone, which your slightly buzzed brain comprehended as a crush-like gesture, making you sink into an even more sad state.

"Go away, Satoru!" you said harshly and he seemed offended upon hearing those words.

"What's wrong?" he asked seriously, his cerulean eyes searching for an answer in yours from behind the sunglasses he was wearing. "Talk to me, please. I can't bear to see you like this."

"It's just this guy..." his heart shattered upon hearing your words, he was pining over you, he was trying so hard for you just for you to have feelings for another man "He keeps taking care of me and being the sweetest person ever, but he never really showed me any signs of being interested in me. I am starting to think he sees me as like a little sister he constantly has to take care of or I dunno."

"Oh."

"And we sleep in the same bed almost every night, but he never made a move so I'm confused..."

"Maybe he never made a move because he is afraid you will laugh into his face again." he said nonchalantly and you were fast to look him in the eyes. His sunglasses were lowered onto the tip of his nose, revealing the blue hue of his mesmerizing irises. "I'm pretty sure he likes you back, he would be an idiot if he didn't. You are the most amazing woman I have met, every guy would be lucky to even know you, nevertheless having you as their partner. I'm pretty sure you have him wrapped around your finger since day one, sweetheart."

He is serious. You can tell. There is a slight smile on his face, but the glimmer in his eyes tells you, that he's not joking around. The intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks burn up and suddenly you find the slowly melting ice cubes in the cup in front of you way too interesting. His hand reaches out, slowly lifting your chin so that you would look him in the eyes again and suddenly his face is closer to yours than ever. All the buzz you were feeling from that one drink you had an hour ago is gone and it's replaced by the sobering reality of Gojo's confession.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks lowly and you nod eagerly "I need verbal consent, sweetheart."

"Please, kiss me, Satoru!"

And he does just that.

Two months have passed since that night Gojo kissed you and your relationship didn't change a lot since then. He was just as caring and attentive, you kept spending most of your free time together, however, you started being physically affectionate towards each other. It felt like you were kissing all the time and he made sweet love to you almost every night. You never really talked about the newfound aspects of your relationship, and you never slapped a label onto it either. You didn't know what you were and that bothered you to no avail, especially when other women and men kept flirting with him in front of you without an ounce of shame, despite your intertwined hands or the arm he had around your waist (sometimes even lower than that) constantly.

He knew you better than anyone though, so he noticed straight away that something was wrong. He didn't want to overstep your boundaries though, he knew you would bring it up eventually when you felt ready for it. However, he kept showering you with gifts, reassuring words and kisses, thinking it would make you feel better, which it did, but no Lego Flowers could answer the question of whether you were a couple or not.

"Satoru, what are we?" you asked randomly in the middle of eating lunch in his office, startling him while he kept stuffing his face with gyoza, making him choke on his food. He burst out in a coughing fit, trying to catch his breath.

"What kind of question is that, sweetheart?"

"Well, we never had the talk and we never had a label so I thought I would ask."

"Oh." he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin "I never considered having the talk because I figured we didn't need it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well I thought we were a couple since the first time we kissed. I've been referring to you as my girlfriend ever since, I even showed all these cute pictures of you to a curse I dealt with the other day."

"Are you serious, Satoru?" you asked in disbelief.

"Don't worry, I exorcised it after I was finished with the pictures, it won't come back to haunt you, kikufuku."

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE CURSE, GOJO!" you shouted, startling him "Didn't you think you should have talked to me about our relationship? What if I didn't want to be your girlfriend?"

"YOU DON'T?"

"Of course I do. I guess it would have been nice to know, I kept having these thoughts about you not wanting me like that or something..."

"Sweetheart, I've been head over heels for you since the day I met you, If I kiss you of course I would want to be with you." he said seriously, making a wide grin appear on your face.

"So we've been dating for two months now?" you ask with a content smile.

"Yeah, the best two months of my life, baby." he said, slowly getting up from his seat as he walked up to you and he leaned down to leave a passionate kiss on your lips.

"So, should I feel bad for kissing all those other people?" you asked as soon as he broke the kiss.

"WHAT?"

"I'M KIDDING, SATORU, I'M KIDDING!" you shouted, a breathy laugh escaping your pretty lips "You're the only one for me, baby."

Gojo shook his head disapprovingly, silently adoring the sound of your silly laughs and giggles. Yes, he was a man-child, but he was willing to give everything in him to keep hearing your intoxicating chuckles. Even if that meant losing the fun facade to show you how serious he is about being with you.

#gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #gojo imagine #gojo fluff #jujustu kaisen #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #satoru imagine #jjk imagines #gojo x you #gojo x reader

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asteriismos · 2 years

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cherry waves - ben hargreeves

PAIRING ◆ sparrow!ben hargreeves x umbrella!reader

WARNING(S) ◆ SMUT, rough sex, choking, DIRTY TALK, unedited, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem receiving), byeLOL

SUMMARY ◆ you come to terms with the new ben.

WORDS ◆ 4.6k

NOTE ◆ … lolllllll!!!!!!! there's no ben smut out there so (insert thanos meme) fine, i'll do it myself.

The Ben that you had fallen in love with when you were younger has been dead for almost fifteen years . . . you had to keep telling yourself that. Getting over his death was one of the hardest things that you had ever done, because his loss was the first one that you had ever experienced at the ripe age of seventeen years old. You weren’t even an adult and yet, you were faced with the tragedy of your first love being killed and you had to face that realization every day for the rest of your life. You remembered the day like it was yesterday, and although it had been over a decade since it happened, there were some times where you would wake up in the middle of the night, sweat covering your entire body and gasping for air because of the nightmares you endured. You weren’t there to witness his death, but the tragedy was all the same. In your nightmares he was ripped away from you without a goodbye.

You finally started to forget about the trauma when you were in Dallas, as there seemed to be no way to get back to the future and for the life that you had back in 2019. You even met some other people, though nothing came to fruition like your relationship with Ben did. With him it felt so natural to be in love and with everyone else you felt like you were going through the motions. Instead you grew your relationships with your friends and that managed to take your mind off of him.

And you thought that this mess was done once you made it back to 2019. Everything seemed fine until you and The Umbrella Academy came face to face with Reginald, who was explaining that your home wasn’t your home anymore . . . or it never was. You were confused as hell on what had happened due to time travel. Noises were heard from the top of the balcony and you and your family turned around, revealing a whole set of other people just like you and some weird floating cube.

And just as you thought things couldn’t get any more weird, you heard footsteps to your left and saw none other than Ben Hargreeves, more alive than you could remember him being.

Dad, who the hell are these assholes?

That voice was still ringing in your head as clear as day, because to be honest, you couldn’t remember much from the encounter. You took one look at your deceased past lover who was no longer dead and started to shake, the familiar feeling of being hopeless came back to you and you passed out. Five would later tell you that he caught you and was able to get you out of the house before people started to fight, and it wasn’t until five hours later that you woke up. In this timeline, he’s still alive, Y/N, He would say to you when you finally came to, in some hotel room that your family booked. He’s not the same Ben that you fell in love with. He’s different.

And for a few hours you believed that, you tried to join your family in getting on with their lives and planning for their future, but you couldn’t get your mind off of Ben. Because in a way, he was the same person that you fell in love with. Your curiosity got the best of you and like always, led you to do some questionable things – because why would life ever be simple for you?

Your curiosity led you to the doorstep of The Sparrow Academy, knocking on the door and waiting for someone to answer it, not entirely sure that what you were doing is what you should actually be doing. You heard that there was a fight here and although you didn’t get too much information from your siblings, you were sure that there was still bad blood between the two families. The person to answer the door was a brunette woman, who stood a little bit taller than you and gave you a soft smile, turning to look behind and closed the door behind herself, coming out onto the sidewalk with you. She looked a little nervous that you were here, but didn’t look like she had any ill will against you.

“You’re the one that passed out. I’m Sloane.”

Great. You’re glad that was the reputation they all had of you. How embarrassing.

“I don’t normally do that,” You said. “There’s just someone here that reminds me of someone I used to know.”

Sloane looked confused for a second, her features scrunching up in thought before they softened, as if she realized who you were talking about. “Ben said something about your family giving him weird looks. And you passed out right after you saw him . . . How do you know him?”

“Ben was . . . Well, Ben was in our timeline too. I knew him from then but he died almost fifteen years ago. It was . . .” You trailed off, not knowing the right words to use. You were notorious for never talking about it, which was not good for your healing as you’ve heard, but it was always too painful to think about. “It was traumatic for all of us.”

“You loved him.”

Was it that easy to see? Maybe what gave it away was your pained expression at the mere thought of his death, or that you could barely say his name above a whisper. The more you stood in front of her the more you wanted to run away, thinking that this was a bad decision and that you should’ve listened to your family and stayed the hell away from here. But you couldn’t just leave now, and soon enough Sloane was inviting you in and telling you which door led to Ben’s room, and soon enough you were knocking on the door.

You heard a groan, and a small come in and for a moment you hesitated, thinking that you would be saddened by the fact that the new Ben wasn’t the same one. But you just needed to see him, even if it was just for a moment. You opened the door and closed it, coming face to face with someone who looked the same as your lover, smelled the same as your lover, and even stood the same as him too, but it wasn’t him. It was someone else.

“Did you come in to discuss something about your family, or are you just trying to get your hands on one of us since you didn’t get a piece of the action earlier?” Ben asked, his tone condescending and nothing like how you remembered it being. “As I recall, your little twitchy brother zapped you out of the house before things got exciting.” You shook your head, taking a step back as he took a step forward. You were silent, still eyes wide at the sight of him. The only thing that was different about his appearance was the visible scar on his face and the slightly tight fitting shirts that Ben never wore before.

You opened your mouth to say, “I just wanted to see if it was really you.”

“What do you mean, really me?” He asked.

“It’s a long story. But the Ben that I knew died so long ago, and I loved him so much. Seeing you down there earlier today just brought all of it back. I never thought that I would see you again . . . But it’s not you. Or at least the one that I knew from my timeline,” You explained.

“You were in love with me?” He asked. It was a strange concept to him. No one had ever loved him, not enough to pass out due to the thought of him, not enough to risk their life to come to his doorstep after their whole family had engaged in a fight that almost killed them. You were gorgeous enough as it is, and now you were telling him that you loved him. In some ways that made him feel a twinge of emotion towards you, and it made him extend his hand out forward. You flinched for a moment at his touch, but allowed it once you felt his fingertips on your arm. Closing your eyes, for a moment it felt like you were seventeen again and Ben was still here.

And you opened your eyes and Ben was there, those eyes that you remembered.

“Did he feel like this?” Ben asked you, his hand not leaving your arm. You nodded, reaching and grabbing the hand with your own. Just like how it used to be. Ben didn’t know why he was doing this, but it felt as if something in the universe was telling him to do it, like it was right somehow. Like you and him were meant to get together. It was all happening so fast.

In a moment of either pure hope or total idiocy, you stood on your tippy toes and kissed him. It was a short kiss, similar to the ones you two had shared before in your past. Clumsy even, noses brushing against one another as you pulled away a tiny bit to get a look at him. His eyes met yours and he leaned in again, not testing the waters like you had. He knew what he wanted and you were shamelessly going to give it to him, no questions asked. Ben’s hands reached down to the small of your back, pulling you into him and not letting go.

The kiss was greedy, taking all that you could of one another, you still standing on your tippy toes and steering out of balance when your chest hit his own. He kept you up though, your legs turning into jelly when he released his lips from your own and indulged in the crook of your neck. It was hot and sloppy, swollen lips trailing from your neck to your jaw and down the other side, a row of saliva glistening on your skin. Your body shuddered, he made you feel weak in his hands and all you wanted to do was fall down but he didn’t let you. Instead his hands kept you firmly, head dipping down further along your collarbone and squatting down, placing them on the backs of your thighs, nudging.

Realizing what he wanted, you were quick to obey, jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. Ben’s strong arms held you with no problems, hoisting you up so your head was now level with his own. You took the opportunity to press your lips against his own again, hands finding their place on his jawline, kissing with a passion you had never used before with anyone else. His hands pulled you down and he grinded against you, making you moan into his mouth, Ben’s tongue sliding past your parted lips and exploring your mouth.

He began to walk backwards, steadily so as to not trip. And the moment his calves hit the bed, he sat down, taking you with him so you were now straddling his thighs. You were becoming aware of the heat between you two, every shuddering breath that left his lips egged you on further, wanting to make him writhe and moan your name over and over again. The need for him was deeper than you had ever felt before, and you didn’t want to hold back anymore, you wouldn’t let yourself run away from this. It was like he had never left.

There was a small knock on the door and it threw you off your groove, head snapping to the large door. Ben placed a hand on your side to steady you. “Who is it?” He asked, voice wavering a tiny bit at the interruption, hoping the person wouldn’t come in.

“Did you want to train tonight or tomorrow morning?” It was his sister Fei.

A sigh left Ben’s lips. “Tomorrow morning.” There was a muted reply that neither of you could hear, and another moment passed and you knew that she was gone.

“That was close-”

“Ben,” You breathed, not in the mood for small talk. You were still sitting on his thighs and you needed him more than ever now. “Stop talking.” A sly smile came across his lips and you wiped it away with a kiss, going back to the fast pace that had been set before. Your hands came and went under his shirt, feeling the taut skin of his abs and thanking God for his training and conditioning. He was considerably larger and muscular than when you had known him. The thought of him above you with a body like that? It made you falter in your movements.

Using the break in your concentration to his advantage, Ben started mouthing along your skin again, hands pulling up your shirt above your head. His eyes scanned your body, raising an eyebrow. “No bra?” He asked, making you shy away and look anywhere but at his face. You didn’t reply, but he seemed to not like that. His hand came and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. You gave a small smile, “Well I didn’t know that this was happening and I wanted to be comfy.” He hummed, somewhat disappointed in your answer but not disappointed at how compliant you seemed to be with him. Ben went back to kissing your neck, teeth grazing along your soft skin, making you jump whenever he bit down on a particular spot.

You were beginning to grow impatient. Perhaps it was with the way that he was worshiping you, wanting to kiss every single inch of you and make you keel into his touch over and over again. Or maybe it was because no one had ever made you feel this way before. You had been with others before, men whose names you didn’t bother remembering, all men who resembled the one below you now. Men, with blue eyes that you pretended were his, strong arms that felt like the ones that Ben wrapped around you before you said goodbye to him for what you didn’t know would be the last time. They never made you satisfied, and you were left feeling more broken than put together after the deed was done, scrambling to leave in the middle of the night to avoid the awkward conversation that would follow in the morning. Ben, even though he was only kissing you, put those men to shame. You wondered if he was thinking the same, that no woman measured up to you.

He definitely was.

Ben’s hands found your breasts, squeezing them and kneading them together, fingers coming to pinch your nipples. Your back arched into him and you almost fell over on top of him, using your hands on his muscles to stop you. You reached and decided you wanted to please him, to show him how much you wanted him. You trailed your hands under his shirt and came to the band of his pants, pushing your fingers past it and making your way down. Before you could hit his obvious hard on, one of his own hands came and grasped your wrists, pulling your hand away. You looked up, thinking that you did something wrong. Tilting your head, you gave him a silent what?

“I’m not done with you yet,” Ben explained. In one movement he put his hands to your back and flipped you two over, him now on top of you. Your head hit the mattress with a small humph and wondered what he had in store for you.

You worked with him to shimmy your pants and panties off, throwing them to some side of the room. His hands splayed against your thighs and you watched with an open mouth to see what he was going to do. He gave you a look, a familiar one that reminded you that you were actually here with him, not someone who looked and acted like him. It was actually Ben. The one that you still loved, the one that you trusted more than anyone in the world.

You were also well aware of the slick that was beginning to coat your thighs, body betraying you and showing him how much you wanted him, how you ached for him. Ben seemed to like it though, bringing his flesh hand to your slit and scooping some of it up. When he brought his hand back up, you could see the way that it glistened on his skin, popping a finger into his mouth and humming sinfully at the taste. He did it again and again, humming every single time your arousal hit his tongue. You looked down with heated cheeks, feeling a little embarrassed that you were getting so worked up over something so small. “You taste …” He trailed off, bringing his tongue to your folds and swiping up from your hole to your clit. “Amazing.”

“It’s all for you,” You said, wiggling your hips and urging him to pleasure you again. Ben smirked, feeling a sense of pride wash over him at your words. He brought a finger to you and pushed it in, watching your mouth open into a wide ‘O’ at the feeling. He curled it up, making your muscles tighten around him. Ben built a steady pace and he came back up to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek sweetly as if he couldn’t hear the lewd sounds that were being created when he added a second finger in.

“Did he make you feel like this,” He asked, towering over you. His thumb rubbed against your clit while his fingers fucked into you. “Were you ever under me like this?”

You moaned out at his words, thighs clenching around his hand to keep him there. You couldn’t respond, too busy thinking about the steady fire that was building in you. You reached to climb higher, hoping he would grant you some kind of release. He didn’t give it to you though. Instead, whenever you were getting to that tipping point, he would stop all of his movements altogether until you stopped shaking, then repeat the process over and over again.

It was making you go crazy, how he had the power to push you towards release but he just wouldn’t do it.

“Tell me, when you were with other guys to forget, did they make you feel this good?” Ben whispered into your ear, biting the skin below it. “Did they make you shake under their fingertips?”

So that’s what it was. Jealousy. Ben was jealous of all the men that had been with you before him. How someone else had heard your first moans, been inside you, made you cum before he ever had the chance to. He was determined to make sure that he was better than them, and make sure that you would never go to anyone else again.

“Answer me.”

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t. As if to test you further, he pushed a third finger into you, making you moan out his name loud and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. His thumb kept rubbing languid circles on your clit. You thought if you stayed quiet you could sneak an orgasm, cut him off guard. But as if he heard your thoughts, his movements stalled and he put his other hand firmly on your hips so you couldn’t even move against his statue-like hand. His dark eyes bore into your own and you squeezed around his fingers. “No, they weren’t anything like you. You make me feel so good, Ben.” The praise fell from your lips with ease, lava pooling in your stomach as if threatening to burst at any moment. If only he would just rub a little bit more …

He pulled his hand away from you. Ben didn’t even respond to your statement and you wondered if you said something wrong, if he had enough. And he had enough all right, but not enough of you. He wanted to see you cum, just around his cock and not his fingers.

But you couldn’t hear what he was thinking, which made you whimper when he pulled himself away fully, standing at the edge of the bed. You opened your legs up to him, the farthest that you could go without hurting yourself and hoping that it would make him come back to you quickly. Your clit was aching from several denied orgasms, almost thinking about pulling your hand down to finish yourself off, though deciding against it when knowing Ben would never allow something like that. He liked seeing you writhing like this.

Ben’s hands shed all his clothing. He wasn’t exactly putting on a show for you but you marveled anyways, watching the way that his muscles flexed when his shirt came off and how you wanted to lick all around his abdominal region and make your way all down to his cock, which was pressed against his stomach and slightly glistening with precum. It was big, probably the biggest you’ve ever had and felt your insides clench just thinking about it sliding into you. Once he was satisfied with his clothing off, he came back down to the bed and kneeled between your spread legs.

“Ben,” You whispered. “Please.”

“Please what?” There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and it took all of your strength to not roll your eyes. “What do you want me to do to you?” Of course he wanted to hear you say it, to announce what he was inevitably going to do.

You couldn’t ignore the way you loved how controlling he was with you, how he ordered you to do some things. And as much as you hated that he didn’t let you cum, you also loved how he would make you cum when he wanted you to, not you.

He took his cock into his hands and rubbed the tip against your glistening folds, teasing you in the most sinful way possible.

“Please … Fuck me Ben. Make me cum, I can’t take it anymore.” You just wanted him inside of you so badly, you were going to scream if this went on for any longer. He was right there, denying you both the pleasure.

With a nod of his head, he pushed into you in one fluid motion. The feeling of him bottoming out inside of you made you grip onto his bicep, pulling him close so his warm chest was against your own again. He wasted no time moving, the sound of it deliciously sweet in your ears. Ben took your legs and pushed them upwards, your feet hanging off of his shoulders and pressing your thighs further up until they were almost hitting the mattress. The change in position had you crying out, feeling him hit deeper inside of you.

You could feel every single scrape of his cock against your walls, increasing that fire in your stomach until you were sure you were about to cum. His pace was unrelenting, moving quicker and quicker until you were sure he was using all his power. He kept at it with such loyalty and vigor, his motivation to make you feel the best you ever had fuelling him to a tenfold. He was such a devoted man to begin with, so you should’ve known that he would handle things the same way in bed.

You squeezed around him. “Please,” You whimpered.

“Go ahead.” Those two words were all you needed, allowing yourself to scream out as your orgasm ripped through you, built up again and again and now it was finally here and it was amazing. It rippled through you like shockwaves, and made you go limp under him, legs completely boneless. Ben didn’t let up as he rode through your orgasm, keeping the same pace with you. He was unforgiving, not giving you time to adjust and instantly making you feel the feeling of overstimulation. You were so sensitive to his cock ramming in and out of you that you could feel a second orgasm already building up.

The tip of him hit a particularly nice spot in you and you yelled, curling your toes and your hands came to tangle and grip in his hair. You almost stopped for a moment thinking that you were hurting him, but when you looked at his face, you saw only fucked out bliss, white incisors showing in a ravenous grin. His eyes opened and they were almost fully dark, making you shiver.

You opened your mouth to speak but was halted by two of his fingers shoving their way into your mouth. It was harsh, but in a good way, your insides burning up as your second orgasm washed over you, sucking on his two fingers as they made your moans muffled.

“You feel so good. You’re so fucking tight,” He mumbled, as though he was talking to himself. He was completely thrown into the pleasure that you were giving him, hot and warm and just perfect, like you were made for his cock to be rammed into over and over again. “Made for me, all for me.” He used your past words, them never losing their meaning no matter how many times he muttered under his breath.

Time seemed to slow and grow faster at the same time, the whole room disappearing as both of you focused on only each other. You weren’t sure how many times he had made you cum at this point, you took whatever he gave you and took it well. When you got enough strength to crane your neck down, you watched as your hole enveloped his cock, it coming back out slicked with the remnants of your past orgasms. Ben saw where your eyesight was and a sense of pride washed over him again. “Do you like watching that? Seeing how well you take me?” He asked, egging you on. His hand went to grab your own and placed it on your lower abdomen, and you could feel the skin slightly raising up every time he went into you. You could see it too, sliding in and out.

Though, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself, his movements were beginning to falter. He was becoming more sloppy with his hips and you knew he was about to cum. So, to give him what he had worked for, you wiggled your hips up, matching his hips. Your oversensitive clit rubbed against the base of his cock and you were clenching around him, and as if on cue, you were cumming again, feeling weak under him. Ben wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up, his cock splitting you open until he was spilling inside of you.

The moans that left his mouth were probably the hottest things you had ever felt in your life. You could feel his cum dripping down his cock, coating your thighs and dripping onto the soiled sheets. He put you down on the bed and followed you, eyes watching your own and kissing your sweaty forehead. He finally stopped moving and stilled inside, not wanting to leave you and go back to the way things had been before. He didn’t want to leave this moment and neither did you.

Because both of you knew when you were both cleaned up, you would have to come to terms with what was happening.

So you stayed there with him, letting his cock stay inside of you and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, words of praise were exchanged. How good he had been, how good you made him feel … Anything that both of you could think of to keep the moment from ending.

#ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves headcanons #ben hargreeves fluff #ben hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves smut #ben hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy fanfiction #the umbrella academy imagines #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #viktor hargreeves

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marvelobsessed134 · 2 months

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Love Me Tender Part One: the meeting

Series masterlist

Pairings: 60s!rockstar!bucky x innocent!fem!reader

Warnings: nervous reader, charming Bucky, societal expectations of the time period, men being men ig idk, mentions of drugs, hint of WandaNat/time period homophobia (sorry)

It was around 9 o’clock when the party was in full swing. You sat in the large Palm Springs mansion living room around starlets and musicians alike. You didn’t know why your father dragged you here but you have a pretty good idea. He’s been trying to find you a husband for weeks now ever since you turned 18. He said that as soon as a woman is a legal adult she must find a husband. Which you don’t really mind you just hope this guy-whoever he may be-is nice.

You spotted Natasha Romanoff across the room in all glamour. The redheads perfectly curled hair, her black slinky dress, red lips and nails. She was talking to Wanda Maximoff. The two of them seemed pretty close, almost too close but no one said anything.

You’re wearing a floor length cream colored gown with your hair in a beehive hairstyle. You’ve been obsessed with those fashion magazines that show the latest trends.

Your makeup perfect, with thick eyeliner, pale pink lips, little rosy cheeks. It was no doubt the men there were staring at you. You are fresh meat.

Looking down at your feet, you saw a shadow loom over you. You looked up to see a rather handsome man, steal blue eyes, dark hair. He could only be the one and only Bucky Barnes. Of course you know him, everyone knows him. you have a bunch of his records in your collection at home.

“Um…hi?” You asked nervously realizing how much bigger he was than you.

“Hi, darlin’. Noticed you sitting over here alone what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asked. He had a bit of a southern drawl considering the fact he’s from somewhere in the south.

You blushed, “Um yeah. I’ve been dragged here by my father he’s been trying to get my hitched ever since my 18th birthday.”

“Oh? You just turned 18?”

“Y-yeah.” You chuckled nervously.

“Well you’re mighty beautiful for a young lady like you. I’d outta take you out for dinner.”

“Really? But I’m just kind of boring I don’t want to bore you…” you looked down shyly again.

The rockstar put his fingers under your chin and made you look back up at him, the action giving you butterflies. “Baby you are anything but boring and I’ve barely met you.” Just then your father came up behind him.

“Ah, I see you’ve met my Y/n.” He said.

Bucky turned to your father, “Mr. L/n wow what a pleasure to be in your presence.”

“I could say the same to you, Mr. Barnes. Me and my daughter are big fans of ya.”

The two men chatted for a bit before Bucky brought up the fact he wanted to take you on a date. “That would be nice wouldn’t it Y/n?” Your father said. You smiled and nodded with a blush.

“Y/n. What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” The brunette commented making you blush even more.

“Here’s our house number go ahead and give us a call. Me and Y/n better get out of here before the drugs come out.”

“Yes, I will definitely call you. Thank you Mr. L/n.” He turned to you, “goodnight, Y/n.” And he disappeared into the crowd.

You went home that daydreaming about the rockstar, and having some very impure thoughts about him.

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel au #60s #60s au #60s aesthetic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #innocent!reader #elvis presley #elvis and priscilla #priscilla presley #Lana Del Rey

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ellievickstar · 1 year

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Second Place 🥈 (Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Reader is Wednesday’s cousin and has always felt inferior to the raven haired girl.

A/N: So I watched Wednesday….please tell me I’m not the only one that thought Tyler’s voice was low key hot when he was confessing everything to Wednesday at the police station. But, I am team Xavier. So as some of you know I ran into a bit of a writer’s block, and I was reading some angst and then poof, inspiration. So enjoy my imagination that I acted out to figure out what the characters were going to say. Also, just angst. Yeah, angst. But also fluff.

Inspired? Definitely, by someone. Multiple people. Fanfiction writers that have written Wednesday fanfiction.

Masterlist? Yeah, that doesn’t exist yet. I’m working on it. Don’t judge me.

Requested? No. Uh no, I’ve disappeared for a bit so everyone forgot abt me HAHAHAHA (I have issues okay? I’m sorry T^T)

WARNINGS- I forgot warnings….uhhh: insecure reader, angst to fluff

(Side note: Xavier is a hufflepuff or slytherin, and the gif is not mine)

~*~*~*~*~

Rain patted down your windows as you listened to Fester and Wednesday talk. Fester was your dad, and though you did not mind his absence most days, you couldn’t deny that you were hurt. Why would your father visit his niece, yet not spare a minute to check in on you.

However, you were not surprised. Growing up, you noticed how Fester was more affectionate towards Wednesday compared to you. When he came back from trips he always greeted you with a pat on your head and a smile. Wednesday, on the other hand, was hugged and they joked and laughed together. They had this unspeakable bond. It made you jealous, but you didn’t require a father, and you wouldn’t in the future.

A soft knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. Your attention snapped to open threshold. Xavier, your childhood best friend, was leaning against the door frame.

“Hi,” he smiled. You grinned back at the tall brunette. Xavier had first met you during his godmother’s funeral. While Wednesday felt like it would be amusing for Xavier to scream until the adults found him, you had immediately sprinted for the red button that kept him from being burnt alive.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the Nightshade library?” You asked. From what you knew, Xavier intended on doing some research in the secret library about the monster.

“I am,” He confessed, “But I wanted you to help me.” You pretended to think, but you couldn’t say no to his soft, pleading, green eyes. He hummed with delight as you rose from your bed and set down the book that you had had no luck reading.

~*~*~*~*~

“Uncle Fester?” Wednesday called out as she entered the Nightshade’s library.

“Who’s Uncle Fester?” Xavier asked as he seemed to materialise from the shadows. “My father,” You replied as you scanned through the last page of the book you held before putting it back in it’s rightful place.

You watched as Wednesday and Xavier insulted each other, it reminded you of squabbling rats. You rolled your eyes when Wednesday said that he liked her. Then you paused. No, it wasn’t possible. Xavier could not like Wednesday after she kept pushing him away.

“Wow!” Fester commented. You whipped your head around to him as he came out of absolutely no where.

“How long have you been lurking?” You demanded. “Long enough to feel the tension between Wednesday and Xavier! Seriously, you could cut it with an executioner’s axe,” He smirked. Wednesday’s eyes widened. You winced at the blatant reminder that your childhood best friend clearly liked Wednesday more then you, like everyone else.

The patter of fingers distracted you. Thing showed up from behind a pillar and Fester seemed so happy to see him…until thing started to throttle him over an old mission. You rolled your eyes. This was not new to you, Thing complained to you all the time about Fester, especially after they returned from a mission together.

“Stop,” Wednesday snapped. You froze as well at her intimidating tone. Wednesday was always the scary one. You giggled as Fester turned around, Thing still held on to the side of his mouth as they both looked at Wednesday innocently. Wednesday rolled her eyes this time.

Soon after, Fester approached the picture of Iggy Itt, one of the ancestors of the Nightshades, a distant relatives of you and Wednesday, as you recalled. Behind the portrait was a safe. You were astounded as you never noticed the safe when you were poking around the old portrait.

“Can you crack this one quickly, or do I have time for a nap?” Fester remarked. Thing stretched his fingers as he begun to fiddle around with the number combinations. After a minute or two, Fester let out an exaggerated yawn before saying, “you know, this is starting to become a replay of Kalamazoo.” Just as he finished his sentenced, the safe opened with a creek and Thing turned to give a little bow.

The safe only held a diary, Nathaniel Faulkner’s old diary. You had overheard Fester and Wednesday speak about it when he was in her room. Wednesday flipped through the pages before pointing to a well sketched drawing of the monster.

Scanning the pages you absorbed the information like a sponge. The monster roaming around the school grounds was called a Hyde. The Hyde required a master in order to be unlocked or a traumatic event. You have to manipulate the Hyde into doing your bidding by using hypnosis or by other means.

“This means…” You muttered as you pointed at the sketch of the master and the bowing Hyde. “It means we’re not looking for one killer, but two,” “The Hyde and it’s master,” You agreed with your cousin. “Whoever that wants to unlock a Hyde is a next level psycho,” Fester murmured. And he was right.

~*~*~*~*~

You left the Nightshade library soon after with Fester, the both of you knew that it was best to leave Wednesday alone when she wanted to think.

“Look, YN” Fester started, “I know about what happened,” You paused. Turning back to face the tall man, you feigned ignorance. “I don’t know what your talking about,” “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” You had never seen Fester lose his cool. He always seemed to be happy and optimistic. But now, he seemed irritated.

“I’m sorry that I was absent during your childhood. Most of all because I left you with your horrible mother. I was angry at you when you told her off during the family reunion but when Gomez drove her away, I dug into what happened when I was absent,” He explained. He begun to pull out your medical records. All of it was your personal medical reports from when-

“I found this at the hospital nearest our home. Your mother kept everything under wraps because she didn’t want anyone to find out what she was doing to you. Gomez seemed to crack the case first, which was why your mother left when you were thirteen,” You remembered that day.

You had awoken to an empty house, had run all the way to Uncle Gomez’s Family estate with tears in your eyes as you begged him to find your mother. He had refuse and told you that it was for the best that your mother left.

From what you could remember, your mother was abusive from a very young age. It only began to become physical when you were nine or ten. You were often brought to the hospital because of how hard she beat you and sometimes, she grabbed the closest thing to hit you with. It varied from flame pokers to golf clubs to even a vacuum stick at one point.

Why she hit you? Well, you were the spitting image of your father and his absence made her irritable. She used you as a form of punching bag. If she wasn’t hitting you, she used her words and it hurt like blades and daggers being stabbed into your back. She most often compared you to your cousin, Wednesday. From grades to fighting skills, she critiqued and compared the both of you. You were either the best, or a failure. Your cousins perfect grades didn’t help, nor did her shaky record and habit of getting the two of you into trouble.

You began to harbour resentment against the girl. The raven haired cousin who always had the perfect the grades, the perfect family, the perfect attitude. The one who gave zero effs about what other people thought of her, the one that had Xavier pinning for her because he strongly believed that she was the one who helped him out of that casket. The one who didn’t have to dress up to be pretty, who didn’t need to try hard to get people to like her because she didn’t care.

You wanted that. You wanted a mother who didn’t criticise every little thing you did. You wanted a mother who would be by your side. You wanted a mother who didn’t care about what you wear, who only cared that you were happy. You wanted to grow up thinking that only your opinion mattered. You wanted to be first place for once. You wanted, more then anything, to be the best, to not seem so insignificant compared to your cousin.

You stared into the guilty looking eyed of the man you used to call your father before he left you, time and time again, with that horrible excuse of a mother.

“I don’t need your apologies. I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” You deadpanned as you began to walk away. And as you did so, you could have sworn that you heard Fester say, “Then why do you not call me your father anymore?”

~*~*~*~*~

“Why so down?” Xavier asked as he dashed paint again on the canvas. You hummed as you looked down at your empty sheet again. You were usually good at biology but Fester’s words kept bothering you. It felt like you were spiralling and the nightmares. The nightmares sucked. It kept feeling like you were back in that house, that you were still scared to wake up to your mother’s yelling.

You flipped through your textbook for something to help you write your essay. Defeated, you closed the text book and stuffed the empty paper in your bag with your books. “Hey,” Xavier stopped to look at you, “You know you can talk to me, right?” You nodded, but your next train of thought was:

‘Well not really because I can’t exactly tell you about how I’m starting to spiral because I’m slowly starting to believe I’m no good compared to my cousin, who you also so happened to probably like because you are so damned interested in her. You look at her like she’s the only person in the world and I wished that you out of all people would like me for me, and not because I’ve done anything for you, or helped you, or have because I have anything to offer, but i know that’s not possible because compare too Wednesday I might as well be insignificant.’

“I’m going back to my dorm, if I’m not there then I’ll be at the library,” You said as you got up to leave. “Uh-uh, sit down,” Xavier commanded, pointing to the chair that you just got up from. He pulled a stool from the corner and sat opposite you. “What’s going on?” He asked, trying his best to look you in the eyes. You looked away, silently begging him to let this all go and to continue with his painting of…

“Is that Wednesday!?” You blurted out as you spied the unfinished painting. Xavier flushed as he stuttered, “I just, well, no- I just-” You stood up quickly and left without another word. Tears flooded your eyes. It’s not like you didn’t know that he obviously liked your cousin, it just hurt to see the confirmation. Xavier mostly painted things that either haunted him, or made him passionate. The monster was something that haunted him, and before he dated Bianca he painted her too.

Yet, even as his best friend, you have never seen him paint a single portrait of you, let alone sketch you as practice.

It felt childish, but you stormed to the library, ready to let out some steam. The library was notorious for it’s good acoustics…and the number of student who made out here. You pulled out your violin, the smaller instrument from the string instrument as compared to cello. “And apparently the ‘easier’ instrument” You murmured bitterly. You had first started violin because you found the instrument fascinating. Your mother had been extremely supportive, until Wednesday picked up the cello a few weeks later. In her words, the violin was pathetic and unimpressive compared to the low octave and precision of the cello. It wasn’t even that impressive! By far, the violin probably was the most solo pieces in history and the most impressive composers known for composing the most difficult pieces were either Rachmaninoff or Paganini! One of which played the violin and was literally nicknamed the ‘devil violinist’.

You sighed again as you tuned the violin according to memory. It’s not like you had a piano near-by. You breathed in as you began your favourite Sarasate symphony (A/N: I hate making author’s notes mid-fic but if you want to know which symphony I’m talking about it’s Sarasate Malagueña Op 21 No 1. I know it’s not technically a symphony but I didn’t know how to dumb it down. Also, I do actually play the violin so this was so fun to write but I also had to hold back from spewing more really random facts)

When you finally finished playing it over and over again four times, you heard clapping from behind you. You turned around to see Ms Thornhill.

“Well, most students usually make out here and I was so surprised to hear Sarasate! Big fan of classical music?” She smiled warmly. You gave a polite smile back as you nodded, “Sorry if I disturbed you but I just love the smell of book and I love playing,” She laughed, “I much rather catch a beautiful piece then two students making out,” You flushed. “I wouldn’t call it beautiful-” “No way! You are gifted YN, maybe even more then your cousin in terms of music,” Her sentence made you flush again. Many people seemed to always think that cello was a lot harder then violin because of it’s sheer size, they always focuse on praising Wednesday’s gifts, being shocked on how she was able to write three novels while mastering an instrument.

You thanked Ms Thornhill for her compliments before picking up your violin case, you decided to bring it back to your dorm today instead of leaving it in the library.

~*~*~*~*~

“is that a violin?” Yoko asked as she looked poked at the case. “Yes,” You replied as you jotted down the last sentence of your biology essay. “How have I not known this last few months?” “Cause you didn’t need to know,” I said.

She huffed as she exited the room. Probably to go hang out with her friends or go on a date. You opened your music score sheets as you wrote down notes at areas you constantly made mistakes.

A soft knock caught your attention. The flash of green eyes and the familiar soft smile made your heart flutter.

“Busy?” He asked, motioning to the scores on your desk. You shook your head. “It’s not like I’m gonna figure out a good fingering any time soon, it’s been driving me crazy,” “That’s what she said,” He joked as he came close, observing the score and the numbers already written. “You know that’s not what I meant,” You hit him lightly. “You should change the C to an A1 so that you’d be on second position, shifting would be easier,” You were almost going to laugh. Surely, you probably already tried that, but as you rewrote the numbers, you were shocked.

“How did you-” “I started reading into music theory, specifically string instruments after…” You stopped listening. Of course, of course he read into music theory after he found out Wednesday played the cello. You turned to him as you spied flowers being held behind his back.

“Are those for Wednesday?” You asked as you pointed to the bouquet of beautiful purple mallows. “You probably should have gotten Black dahillas, that’s her favourite colour and flower. I’m actually surprised you didn’t at least get a black flower, but purple mallows are my favourite, I keep spare Dahillas for special occasions for Wednesday so I can give you one to put in the bouquet-” “The flowers are for you,” Xavier interrupted.

You raised you eyebrows. “I don’t understand,” You began but you were quickly interrupted as Xavier suddenly pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second. He pulled away as he kneeled before you, holding your waist after setting down the flowers on your desk.

“I know that you think you’re second place to your cousin in every way. But, not to me. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You might think that you’re not beautiful, but you only see yourself in mirrors or photos. You don’t see yourself when your excited for lunch, or when you watch the newest marvel movie trailers, or even when you finally master a new piece on the violin. I overheard you and your father talk and I know that your mother didn’t see you for you, but I love you. Not for the achievements you have or the grades you get. I love your excitement, your sensitivity, your empathy towards others. I love how you’ve struggled and you still find a way to love the world,” Tears filled your eyes as you looked his sincere ones. His genuine words made you choke on sobs as you hugged him tightly.

“I love you, YN Addams, I have loved ever since you befriended me. I love you for your crazy ambition, your murderous plans when someone pisses you off-” “You can’t lie and say that making someone choke on their own blood isn’t a cool way to kill them,” You mumbled against the crook of his neck.

“It’s my turn to talk, Addams,” “Is that so?” You giggled. “I love you, little psycho,” You laughed again as he kissed your hair. “You stole that from one of my books,” “I’m not wrong, though,” He mumbled.

You spent the rest of the day in your dorm, unaware of what was coming, but you couldn’t care less. You spent your life thinking you were second place. Now, you were finally, someone’s number one.

A/N: This made me cry. But it was also happy tears. I love the reader so much. Also, to the anon that made the Draco request, I’m working on it. But as I always say, procrastination is key :D (this is also a cry of desperation for more requests)

#Wednesday character’s x reader #Xavier x Reader #Xavier Thorpe x reader #Xavier Thorpe #Xavier Thorpe x you #Wednesday Addams #the addams family #Fester Addams #Uncle Fester #Reader

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beautifulfaaces · 9 months

Text

Shereen Martin

Facts

Irish actress

Filmography

Aoife [Half Bad: 2022]

Rosemary [Three Families: 2021]

Sarah [Blood: 2018]

Kirsty [Loch Ness: 2017]

Jyoti [Holby City: 2005]

Appearance

Brunette

Brown eyes

Roleplay

Playable: young adult, adult

#Shereen Martin #fem irish #half bad #three families #blood #loch ness #holby city #brunette fem young #brunette fem adult #brown eyes fem young #brown eyes fem adult #young adult female #adult female

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xmarziex · 6 months

Text

》ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴄᴜᴏᴜs《 (+𝟷𝟾)

Lorraine Day x fem!reader

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Song: Promiscuous – Nelly Furtado ft. Timbaland Summary: R flustering Lorraine leads to her returning the favour. Warnings: top!lorraine, bottom!femreader, smut, reader receiving, choke kink, praise kink?, reasonably bad smut, me being slightly ashamed of myself Requested by: @slvt4lanadelrey Words: 4.6k

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"You want to know something, Church Mouse," You whispered in Lorraine's ear after the filming had concluded, "I have a feeling one of these days, that boom mic is just going to fall right out of your pretty little hands."

Lorraine's cheeks tinted red at the feeling of your warm breath tickling her ear, the feeling of your lips so close sent electrical currents down her spine, leaving the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention. "Are you calling me weak, Y/N?" she looked over her shoulder with a small glare, that you couldn't help but smile at, the glare coming off as more adorable than intimidating.

You chuckled as you observed her your eyes always seemingly mesmerised by the very sight of her, "More like small," you pinched your fingers together with a grin.

The brunette rolled her pretty brown eyes at you, her blush deepening ever so slightly as she started putting away the film equipment with a huff, "Don't you got better things to do, that don't include annoying me?"

"Hmmm," you looked up as if in thought for a moment, your finger tapping your chin. A grin returned to your features, your eyes looking directly into Lorraine's brown ones, "Nothing better is coming to my mind right now. So, no."

"Why are you even here?" she asked, a hint of irritation in her words.

You observed her, revelling in how annoyed she seemed to be as you chuckled, "Your little boyfriend RJ," you grinned as her head tilted in confusion at that, "I was the script writer for his little project."

"He's not my boyfriend," she rolled her eyes.

You bit your lip at her words, "Doesn't mean he doesn't want to be," you motioned towards him, and the way his eyes not so subtly looked towards Lorraine every once in a while. "Why did you decide to come anyways, thought this wasn't your scene."

It didn't take an idiot to know exactly what you were referring to, her nickname 'Church Mouse' a target on her very being, only adding to the fact it was most definitely not her scene. She eyed you for a moment, "I could say the same about you," her cheeks tinted a little at the memory of what the film was about, "I didn't know you were into writing adult films."

"You know me, Church Mouse," you grinned, as you leaned closer to whisper in her ear, your fingers trailing gently down the cross-pendant necklace that seemed to adorn her neck, "Always looking for an excuse to hang out with you."

She pushed your face away from her as she shivered at your heated breath against her ear, your fingers automatically letting go of the necklace, "Stop calling me that," she cleared her throat, her cheek painted a deep pink in her blush.

You smirked at her, liking the sight, "What are you going to do about it?"

She didn't respond as she finished packing up the equipment, walking away from you as she did without a single goodbye. You laughed to yourself, liking the fact that you could rile her up. You were surprised to see her walk out without stomping her feet immaturely, maybe chalking it up to her small stature to make you think that way.

You sent RJ a sarcastic wave as he eyed you with narrowed eyes, his eyes never taking themselves off you as you left the room. The front door closed behind you as you stood outside, the wind brushing smoothly against your skin as you closed your eyes.

You couldn't help it, as you imagine her pretty brown eyes, the way they watched the scene as she held the boom mic that was way too big for her. She seemed mesmerised and almost as if she were curious, and maybe she was, but your eyes never left her face during that moment.

It was hard to believe that RJ could ever call her a prude, since she did come on this trip and didn't try to leave when she found out what the film would be about. Sometimes you wondered or even hoped that maybe she came here for you because she knew you would be going. You did after all agree to write the script for this film just because you knew she would be there.

You stayed out for a moment longer, revelling in the feeling of wind blowing against your skin, as your mind filled with images of her. You sighed as you walked back into the house, beginning your mission to look for the girl who was playing on repeat in your mind, a grin taking over your features as you began searching for her, just wanting to fall into the warmth her presence always brought.

It had been the tug on your arm, a pair of small hands pulling you into a random bedroom, back pressing against the door suddenly as soft lips attacked yours with a vengeance. Your eyes were blown wide in shock for only a second, your heart beating incredibly fast in a moment of adrenaline, not quite expecting it. You took notice of Lorraine's small stature almost instantly, not having enough time to take in the fact she was only wearing an oversized blue striped shirt – a striking contrast from the polo shirt and denim jeans she was wearing earlier – before your body relaxed, your eyes closing as you reciprocated the rough kiss.

Her hand reached out clumsily behind you, as she blindly locked the door with a 'click'. Caging you inside between her arms, her hands now lying on either side of you. Your back was pressed roughly to the door, her lips so animalistic against yours, feeling as one of her hands began trailing up your arm in slow motion, leaving burning flames against your skin in their wake. It felt subtle at first, the way they gradually traced up your bicep and towards your throat, before her hands latched onto the back, her body already moulding with yours.

You didn't know where to place your hands, letting Lorraine take the lead as her fingers took to curling into your hair. It felt so gentle, before she roughly tugged on the strands, your head falling back against the door hard as her teeth sunk into your bottom lip, giving it a pull, only to elicit a needy moan from your very lips. The vibration made Lorraine shiver in ecstasy, thoughts of the way she would have you invading her mind, thoughts of the way she would make you fall to her every whim. She wanted you begging for her touch, a whimpering mess that only ever wanted her.

It was so unlike her, you weren't expecting it when you went searching for her, and maybe she knew that. She felt like a seductress in this moment, you could almost believe she had planned this from the way she was dressed in only a shirt. It didn't seem to matter to you whether or not it had been unlike her in the time that she had you pressed against a door, because all your mind could think up was the way you didn't want her to stop and that if this were a dream, you hoped you could remain in this eternal slumber.

A sequence of heavy breaths left you, Lorraine releasing your bottom lip from between her teeth as you both opened your eyes to look at each other, "Is this, okay?" her hand loosened its hold on your hair, allowing you to nod your head frantically at the question with a breathless 'Yes' leaving your lips. She trailed her fingers down your throat, it bobbing as you gulped, her finger making its way towards your collarbone as she gripped the collar of the flannel button-up that you wore, the hem tied in a knot, the piece of clothing accentuating your figure perfectly.

You watched with half-lidded eyes as her own sparkled, the perfect combination of lust and hunger laying within matching yours, hers only hinting at what was to come, both lips yours and hers similarly bruised.

She tugged you with her like a dog on a leash as she walked backwards, pulling you against her body as her lips attached to yours, her tongue slipping into your mouth when she smoothly spun you both halfway. You were walking in reverse now, your mind completely blanked by the pleasure the brown-eyes beauty had you falling into, just from the feel of her lips on yours, her warm skin sending heat down to your very core. You stilled suddenly, the feeling of the back of your knees hitting the side of the bed rooting you to your spot.

You let out a needy whine, your breathing coming out laboured as you missed the heat on your skin when Lorraine seemed to detach herself from you. You felt the force as small hands reached forward and pushed themselves against your chest, your body sinking into the mattress below, your eyes not missing the smirk on Lorraine's face as she stood before you.

The brunette leaned down, her hands dipping into the comforter as she lifted her small frame onto the bed, climbing slowly on top of you. Her hand reached out in its haste, grasping your chin in a vice grip as her beautiful brown eyes bore into yours. "This is how it should be," she whispered huskily, licking her lips, "This is where you should be."

Her breathing stuttered at the whimper that left your lips, "God, Lorraine." Your hands moved under her shirt, gripping Lorraine's hips as she straddled your waist, keeping her bare thighs on either side of you, your fingers caressing the skin beneath her shirt absentmindedly.

"What?" she teased as she tightened her grip on your chin, "No Church Mouse?" she stared into your eyes for a moment before pulling you into a forceful kiss. You didn't have time to fall into the kiss before she was already pulling her lips away from you, pushing you roughly back down as she released her hold on your chin. Her fingers moved sensually down your throat, causing you to gulp as they slowly moved on the top of your flannel. Her hands gripped either side of the fabric in a vice grip, before pulling it harshly apart, the buttons flying off as the shirt ripped open, the sound of buttons hitting the floor the last thing on your mind, your heart banging incredibly fast against your ribcage.

A smirk remained adorned on her luscious lips, her fingers tracing their way down your collarbone until they reached the lace of your bra, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You could see it in her eyes, knowing exactly what she wanted at that moment, lifting your back off where it lay on the bed, helping Lorraine as she pulled the rest of your flannel button-up off your body, the piece of clothing finding itself thrown across the room. Your red lacey bra came next, her hands reaching around you to unlatch it, only fumbling for a moment before it came undone, uncovering your breasts completely as it slid down your arms. She bit her lip, throwing the bra to join the shirt on the floor.

Lorraine pushed you back down, your back sinking into the mattress once again, the grip you had on her hips tightening ever so slightly. You watched in mere anticipation, her hands reaching down to the hem of her oversized shirt, pulling it smoothly off her body, before throwing it to join yours. You gulped, eyes travelling down her body, her voluptuous breasts now just as bare as yours, your eyes trailing down even further towards the yellow panties she wore. You only had a second to stare before you felt a hand on your chin as she harshly raised it so your half-lidded eyes would connect with hers, "Did I give you permission to look, princess?"

You gulped at the nickname, not quite understanding the multitude of feelings that were invading your senses, heat pooling deep within yourself even more at this moment. You were merely frozen in place, your body quivering in excitement from the authoritative tone in her voice. "I'm sorry..." your voice trembled, almost feeling foreign to you, not quite used to being so ready and helpless under another's command, never imagining that you would be so aroused by it.

The brunette's hand remained gripping your chin, trying to gouge your reaction before you felt her release it from her tight grasp. She lifted her hips only slightly, your eyes tracking her every movement as she slowly began crawling down your body, causing you to shudder when her hands trailed down your sides sensually as she went. Her eyes tracked the length of your body, travelling down every feature on display before her hands connected with the waistband of your denim shorts.

She traced her hands along the waistband, feeling your breathing stutter when her finger leisurely undid the button, before slowly pulling down the zipper, dragging out the suspense as if to torture you. "Lift your hips," her voice caused you to shiver, your arousal only increasing by the second, your reaction automatic, as she commanded, your hips lifting, your abdomen flexing as she began pulling the shorts down from your hips. You had sunk back into the mattress when you lowered yourself back down, Lorraine continuing her task of pulling the piece of clothing down your legs, her grip burning on your thighs as they finally came off, being thrown into the ever-growing pile of discarded clothing.

You were a panting mess, Lorraine's hands trailing up your legs. "Please..." you whimpered, her fingers edging closer to your red lacey panties, doing nothing to calm your eternal need, the fabric already pooling with an embarrassing amount of heat.

She bit her lip, not giving into the moan that was begging to leave her lips at your reaction to her control on you. "Please, what?" she trailed her hands on your thighs, an unbearable heat being left in their place as your impending wetness continued to seep through the fabric of your panties.

You moaned at her touch, "Please, Lorraine," you panted not knowing whether from the pain of your unending want, or your need for her to touch you, "I need you."

Her hands left your body, a whimper leaving your lips at the loss of contact making you feel almost cold despite the ever-growing burning heat on your skin. She observed you, the way your body was shaking for her touch, absolutely begging for it, before gripping your chin between her fingers as she moulded her lips with yours. Her teeth sunk into your bottom lip, tugging at it before she let it go and stared you dead in the eyes, "Get on your hands and knees." You didn't question it, your body working automatically as you were quick in giving her exactly what she wanted, letting her take control of the situation easily. Your hands and knees met the sheets, Lorraine moving up behind you, her mouth reaching close to your ear as she pushed your head into the pillow, "Good girl." It was sultry when it left her lips, a sweet sense of ecstasy sending a shiver down your spine, your breathing shallower at the words that left her mouth.

You whimpered at the contact, her tongue darting out to lick the rim of your ear slowly, before you felt her teeth tug harshly on your earlobe, letting it go almost instantly. You felt her move, her hands trailing down your body, staying on your breasts for a moment longer, her fingers circling the hardened nipples, giving them a slight tug, before trailing her hands further down to the waistband of your red panties.

You were trembling in anticipation, Lorraine leaning down to bite your shoulder as her fingers played with the waistband of the final piece of clothing. You felt the harsh tug, hearing fabric tearing as she ripped the panties clean off your body, a hiss leaving your lips at the sting the elastic created, the now ripped fabric joining the rest of the clothes.

The brunette didn't give you much time to dwell on the slight pain, her hands grasping onto your bare ass, rubbing sensual circles against your cheeks. You felt as one of her hands left it, before striking down hard, a loud smack resounding in the room as her hand connected sharply with your ass. A loud groan left your lips, a moan replacing it when she began rubbing the spot again.

One of her hands slid up to be against your back, pushing down as her other travelled down from your ass, sliding lower towards your centre, a groan leaving both your lips in unison when her fingers finally made contact, "You're so fucking wet for me, princess" she growled, "I bet you fucking love this, don't you?" Her hand slid sensually across your sopping-wet folds, leaving for only a moment as you felt a hard slap to your core when you remained quiet, a loud moan tumbling from your lips, her voice commanding, "Answer me."

"Oh god yes," you groaned, voice shaky, clenching the bed sheets between your fists. You waited in anticipation, a chuckle leaving Lorraine's lips, your eyes squeezing shut when you felt her leaning closer, her breath warm and tingling against your throbbing core.

She pulled her fingers back for a moment, her hand residing on your hip as her tongue began to trail painfully slow across the length of your slit, her tongue pushing against it, as it ran between your folds. You shook, wanting her to keep going, just to bring you the satisfaction you were dying for, your teeth sinking into the pillow below you as you tried your hardest not to scream out.

You felt yourself clench, her teeth gracing your clit for a small moment as she gave it a rough tug. Lorraine hummed in satisfaction as she pulled her face back, "You taste so fucking good," she moaned. You tensed at the feeling of her hand trailing leisurely up your thigh, her finger making contact with your core, forcing you to twitch in need. A gasp left your lips, your teeth pulling away from the pillow when you could no longer keep it in. You gave an involuntary shiver at her touch, gasping out against the pillow when you felt her tease a finger inside, before slipping it in, following it up with a second. Your walls clenched around them almost automatically, a muffled moan releasing from your lips as you tried your hardest to remain quiet.

She wasn't the Church Mouse you remembered at this moment, a feeling that she would be gentle during these moments was thrown out the window as soon as you felt her push in roughly, reaching as deep as she could possibly go, before beginning to pump her fingers. But you had felt it gentle at first, her fingers slathering onto your slickness easily, her movement impossibly slick, until she started moving more harshly.

Lorraine's hand on your back seemed to push down more, her fingers not stopping their movements for even a moment, not leaving you time to think as they moved unbelievably fast, the muffled moans being lost inside the pillow your teeth had found themselves latched back onto.

You felt her move, her fingers not stopping their excessive pumps as she leaned down, her tongue trailing slowly up your spine. You couldn't focus on anything, the overload of sensations blanking your mind, your lips releasing an excessively loud moan when you felt her teeth sink into your shoulder for the second time, in the exact same spot.

Her breasts closed in against your back, her hard nipples feeling incredibly hot against your skin. You felt her lips against your ear, her pumps not stopping for even a moment as the hand on your back left. You didn't know what was going to happen, you had never been in this situation before. Her hand closing around your throat was the last thing you had expected, your teeth relinquishing their hold on the pillow as she used her hold on your throat as leverage to pull you up off the bed and against her chest.

You could hear the slick sounds as she pumped, a third finger easily joining the two already inside you as she moved against your soaked walls, her fingers curling while she pulled you deeper against her chest. You were so close, your walls twitching against her fingers, her teeth grazing your ear, "Don't cum until I tell you to," she husked, sending shivers down your spine as you moaned. "Do you understand me, princess?"

You nod your head frantically, before feeling her squeeze your neck for an actual answer, "Yes—" you choked out, a panting mess as you tried to hold in your desire to have your release, her finger continuing their relentless pumps.

You clenched your eyes shut, feeling yourself creeping closer to the edge, your wall clenching around her fingers hard as you tried to hold back, her fingers hitting all the right places. You knew she was torturing you as her teeth continued to graze and lick your earlobe, curses leaving your lips as she continued her unbearable assault.

"Please..." you begged, not being able to hold back as you remained on the edge of your release.

"What do you want, princess?" she growled out against your ear. "Tell me."

You panted, "Fuck," Lorraine pumped harder as you tried to speak, "Please, I'm—" she smirked, "I need to cum." You gasped.

Lorraine was silent for a moment, biting down on your earlobe as she continued her assault, her fingers slick with your liquids. You felt her breath on your ear, her groans sending a vibration through your body. "Fuck, princess," her voice trembled. She pulled you up a bit more from her hold on your throat, "Cum for me." She squeezed.

You didn't wait another moment, your body twitching and shuddering, your voice turning raw from your release. It felt so intense as your walls clenched incredibly tight on her fingers, your body shaking against her chest. Your eyes were sewn shut as they rolled into the back of your head, your breathing becoming laboured. Lorraine didn't stop her pumps as she pulled you through your intense orgasm, only stilling when she knew it was over, as she placed her lips against your shoulder.

She carefully slipped her fingers out of you but kept a hold of your throat for a bit longer as she brought her fingers up to your lips, "Suck." You didn't hesitate, even though your energy drained from your body, your tongue trailing up her fingers before your lips closed around them, moaning as you tasted your liquids, swirling your tongue around them seductively as you cleaned them off.

Lorraine pulled them away for a moment, pulling you closer as she connected her lips with yours, her tongue slipping into your mouth. She moaned at the taste of you on your tongue, before pulling away and unlatching her hand from your throat, your head finding its home on the pillow below you. You felt the kink in your knees, having been in the same position for far too long, as Lorraine gently moved you, so you weren't on your knees anymore, your legs splayed out in comfort. She massaged the back slowly, before laying down next to you, her eyes locking onto your closed ones, her hands reaching out to move your sweaty hair out of your face.

You took a moment to catch your breath, before opening your eyes and looking into her brown ones, breathing still laboured. "RJ was wrong about you," you chuckled breathlessly, "You are most definitely not a prude."

Lorraine shook her head with a roll of her eyes and a teasing smile, "Thought you said you didn't think I was to begin with."

You grinned, "I didn't," your eyes trailed her body, "This just proved my theory."

"And what theory was that?" she raised an eyebrow.

You bit your lip, "That it's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest in the sheets."

She pushed your face back, a laugh leaving your lips as she did, "I didn't see you complaining."

"I most definitely wasn't," you smiled suggestively, watching as she rolled her eyes, her dimples breaking free as she grinned at you in return, your fingers reaching out absentmindedly to poke one. "I guess I can't call you Church Mouse anymore, can I?"

"I sure hope not," she stroked your hair gently before her hand slid to your cheek, her thumb running circles as you fell into the comforting warmth her skin gave you. "I hate that nickname." Her eyes were still half-lidded, "How much time do we have before the shoot?"

You thought for a moment, "About an hour give or take."

A smirk overtook Lorraine's features, one that had your once-tired body waking up in arousal. "I guess it's my turn, princess." She leaned closer to whisper in your ear. You followed her lead as she lay on her back, leading you in between her thighs as she commanded you to crawl between them, her finger on your chin, forcing you to look up at her. "You're such a good girl."

You shivered, allowing her to command your every action, moaning as you took her yellow panties off before tasting her sweet nectar. Your arousal only increased from the fingers that seemed to tug on your hair, your body completely falling completely to her every whim.

»──── ◦•✗•◦────«

Bonus:

You opened your eyes as the banging on the door invaded your senses, having a feeling that it could potentially be knocked off its hinges by the excessive knocks.

"Are you two done in there?" Bobby's voice filtered muffled through the door, "We have a film to shoot."

You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you nudged Lorraine awake to get dressed. You both were hasty, you sending Lorraine a look when you remembered your panties were ripped and the buttons on your flannel gone, only to receive a sheepish look in return as you were forced to go commando, having to tie your flannel shirt up tighter.

As you unlocked the door, pulling Lorraine by the hand, out of the room, you were met with Bobby who gave you both a smirk, "Are you both sure you weren't shooting your own porno?" she laughed, "Because that was some loud noises you both were making."

Lorraine blushed at that, a complete contrast to the commanding woman she was when the door was locked. This only made you pull her closer as you gave RJ a smirk as you saw him glare at you, "Oh we definitely were," you chuckled, "Search it up in stores tomorrow morning." You gave a wink.

The brunette was a blushing mess at this point, as you pulled her along with you, laughter following you the whole way to your destination. You knew you'd probably regret it later when the doors finally lock again, but in all honesty, you were looking forward to it. Wanting nothing more than for when the brunette would take control of you again.

»──── ◦•✗•◦────«

Jamie Speaks:

Ummm.... Hahahahaha

I apologise.

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chatterbox-73 · 7 months

Text

.Sugar Daddy Mummy.

Baby boy.

Eren Yaeger x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story, I’ll more characters x reader one shots in the future and if you want to see a character please let me know.

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

Summary/inspiration/prompt: your a woman with too much money and a tendency to spend nights with handsome young men, hoping from one to another never being with the same guy twice, however one young man might just change that.

Word count: 1.3k

CW: NSFW and adult content, mummy kink, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving) cream pie, drinking alcohol, modern au, swearing.

You sat across from the young man on the other side of the glass table, he looked confident and relaxed but you could also see his leg nervously bouncing under the transparent table, “so what experience do you have with sex?” You asked taking a sip of your wine, the young man grabbed his beer and took a long gulp of the amber liquid, something he had made a habit of with every sip you took of your drink he’d mimic the action, “I’ve had some partners and a few one night hookups” he spoke unsure and you nodded, “very well and what was your age again?” You asked “22 ma’am” the man said and you nodded.

Normally you’d go for someone about ten years younger then you, so it was surprising that despite this guy being fifteen years younger then you, you were still willing to take him to bed, in all honesty it kind of made you feel like a pervert, but this guy was willing and it’d only be a one time thing. Taking a deep breath you stood and looked down at him, “let’s get started” you spoke as you grabbed your wine glass and bottle before leaving to the bedroom.

You sat in a large chair one leg draped over the arm on the chair while the other hung over Eren’s shoulder, his face buried into your cunt, you moaned and brushed your fingers through his long hair, “kiss it a little harder” you whined and felt his lips kiss roughly over your entry before his tongue invaded that space, “such a good boy” you moaned before bringing your wine glass to your lips taking a sip, you held the wine in your mouth before pulling Eren away from your cunt and looking down at him, you then opened his mouth and spat the alcohol into his mouth, the young brunette greedily swallowed the wine and hummed at its flavour, he then stood to his feet and spilled inside you, you whined at the feeling as he began grinding his hips into you, “good boy… you’re making me feel so good” you moaned and dropped your wine glass, Eren whined in response and pulled the leg you had over the arm of the chair onto his other shoulder, before he leant back and grabbed the wine bottle bringing it to his lips, the young man took a few large gulps before leaning down and spitting a mouthful of wine into mouth, wine slipped past your lips and ran down your neck and chest, you moaned at the taste.

You felt yourself falling into ecstasy as Eren began greedily lapping the wine off your chest, the young man whine as you squeeze him tightly, “I’m gonna cum” his voice cracked and your eyes fluttered shut, “don’t you dare… you’re not allowed to” you hummed out in shallow breaths, as your hands ran up into his long silky brown hair and pulling it, “ow… please… please let me cum” he whimpered in your ear, his thrusts becoming more forced and messy, “please… mummy I need it” he whined and his hands squeezed your thighs, his nails clawing at your soft skin. The feeling of the seat beneath you grow damp from the amount of mess you were making and the sound of wet skin clapping together made you begin to lose yourself again, you felt your legs tense and your cunt squeezing Eren so tight it forced his cock out of you, his cried out as he lost the warmth of your cunt, “mummy let me cum, I’m a good boy… let me cum in you… please” the man practically sobbed as he focused himself back in you, you bit your lip and shook your head ‘no’ and this caused the young man to go somewhat feral, his thrusts becoming hard and off rhythm, his hands moving down to your thighs so that his thumbs could hold your cunt open and not have the chance to force him out again.

“You’re not being fair… I’ve fucked you so good you’ve cum twice… please I need to fill you…” Eren yelled out his head resting on your shoulder, you took this opportunity to whisper into his ear, “you like my cunt that much, huh?… if you make a mess you’ll have to clean it” you stroked his hair and he whined, “I promise I’ll clean my mess… please… please mummy it hurts” he groaned and began pressing further into you, causing the chair to move and scrape against the floor, “god my cunt feels so good… I don’t think I want this to end” you chuckled through a moan “you know you’re being real selfish baby boy” you hummed and yanked at his hair, Eren moaned and dug his nails further into your skin, “if I don’t…” he heaved in a deep breath and lifted his head to look you dead in the eye, “fucking cum now, I’ll make you regret it…” he growled.

The young man looked animalistic, like a wolf about ready to rip its prey’s throat out, that feeling of ecstasy washed over you yet again and you pressed a rough kiss to his lips, “selfish bitch…” he hissed and you felt wetness seep out of you and onto the chair. “Is that anyway to speak to mummy?” You chuckled and Eren pressed his forehead against yours, “you’re being so mean… I’m desperate… your cunt is so wet and inviting, it’s begging for my cum” he groaned as his member began to twitch, you knew you could probably get him to hold on for a little longer but the way he whimpered and whined made him seem so pathetic, really it was quite the turn on and now you needed to see his face expressions and hear his sounds when he finishes, you grabbed the back of his neck and leaned next to his ear, “if you’re so desperate, then do it… cum baby” you whispered and suddenly Eren shuddered, his shoulders tenses and knees wobbled, as his hands squeezed and pinched your skin, you could feel his cock throb and pulse with each spurt of hot cum he ejaculated into you.

Eren pulled out and watched your hole as his cum began to leak out, it was hot and there was a lot, “you just gonna stand there, or you gonna take care of it?” You questioned with a smirk and the young man nodded and quickly walked off to the bathroom, before returning with a face towel, Eren got on his knees in front of you and began wiping you clean. “Should I run you a bath?” Eren asked as he looked around the room, you stood on shaky legs and placed a hand on his shoulder, “I can manage, you should go home… the money will be in your account tomorrow morning” you smiled and walked off to the bathroom, “we should do this again some time” Eren spoke just before you shut the bathroom door, “oh yeah” you teased and he swallowed, “no payment necessary, it felt good… to fuck you… too good…” he looked down at the ground and you watched his cock twitch, “come on baby… come help me clean up or make a bigger mess with me” you smiled and Eren quickly walked into the bathroom. It was a long night and when it was finally over you were almost sad to see Eren leave, but despite his wish of not wanting to be payed you felt it’d be a disservice to him if you didn’t, you transferred him an amount much larger then agreed upon before you began, and even decided to send him a bottle of the wine he was enjoying with you. Despite telling yourself you wouldn’t see him again, you might just have to break that rule.