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#hope you're enjoying it as much as these two
gurugirl · 2 days
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well���” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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sourlove · 2 days
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Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️
TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY
A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.
READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE
Thanks for the ask!
The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.
"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"
You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.
"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"
Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"
"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.
"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.
"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.
"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.
Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."
"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."
"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"
"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."
"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.
"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"
Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.
When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.
"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.
"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."
You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."
"A sap for you, honeybun~"
"I said don't call me that in public!"
"But whyyyy?"
You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.
"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.
You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?
The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.
Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.
"You."
Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.
"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"
You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"
The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.
He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.
"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"
"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"
A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 14 hours
Text
My Missing Piece
616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader
Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?
Word Count: 10.4K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.
A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)
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Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.
I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.
The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.
I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.
As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.
I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.
After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.
I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.
But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.
With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.
The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,
"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.
"Awww but Mama!" They whined.
"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.
I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.
My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.
I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.
"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.
Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?
Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.
But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.
I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.
"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.
"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.
With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.
As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.
After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.
The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.
"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.
The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.
"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,
"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.
"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.
"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.
"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."
"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,
"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,
"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.
As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.
For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.
But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."
I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.
"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."
She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."
I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.
With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.
Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.
"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."
I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."
She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."
A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."
The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.
"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.
"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.
"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.
"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.
"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.
"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.
"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.
"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.
"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.
"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.
"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.
"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.
Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.
I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."
Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.
========================
The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.
I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.
I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.
She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.
And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.
But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.
My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.
"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.
"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.
"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.
I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.
"What?" I ask.
"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,
"You did what!?" I screech.
"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.
"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.
"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."
She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."
With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.
As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.
And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.
With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.
When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.
"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.
"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.
"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.
"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.
"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.
As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.
With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.
Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.
"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."
She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."
I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.
"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.
The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.
I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.
Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.
Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.
And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.
In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.
User
"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.
The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.
Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.
With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.
With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.
In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.
For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.
"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.
"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.
"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.
"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.
The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.
"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.
With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.
"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.
"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.
As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.
I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.
With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.
And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.
The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.
The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.
"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.
"Never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."
Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.
"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.
In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.
A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.
Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.
"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.
Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.
In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.
========
In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.
With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.
Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.
As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.
"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.
"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.
Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.
"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."
==============
As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.
Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.
With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.
==============
As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.
Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.
As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.
Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.
Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.
As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.
And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.
As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."
My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.
"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.
The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.
As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.
"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.
The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.
As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.
With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.
As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.
Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.
In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.
As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.
I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.
With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.
As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.
A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.
With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.
As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.
In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.
As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.
===========
Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.
"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.
"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.
"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.
As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.
In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.
With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.
As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.
"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."
In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.
With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.
Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.
"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.
"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."
As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.
"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.
As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.
In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.
Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,
"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,
"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”
In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop
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mxtantrights · 2 days
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Hello ☺️ I really really enjoyed the boxer jason and your over all jason imagines they make me feral. I was wondering if I could request one where the reader is like all about jason and he isn't used to it and she is like a big ball of sunshine always happy to see jason and will like drop a conversation as soon as he walks into the room and go on over to him.
a/n: anon, thank you so much for this sweet message and this really juicy request!! <333 I'll have to do you one better with this request, I hope you enjoy.
Mr.Stratford is talking about something. Something about his second dog and his third wife. Or maybe it's his third do and his second wife? You can't really tell. At this point you know that he's had three wives and five dogs. And he has so many funny stories about them. He thinks it's funny but you think it's a downright snooze fest.
You keep from yawning when you decide to move a bit. That way you'll have sight of the door and see who's coming in and out. You nod on as the man continues speaking, losing a minute of your life with every word he says.
It's not until a white tuft of hair appears in the doorway do the sparkles come back into your eyes. You hand the man your flute of bubbly and starts fast walking over to him.
Jason sees you coming and holds open his arms. You launch yourself at him. He hugs you back.
"Next time we show up together." you say.
"You just walked away from the mayor of Gotham." Jason says.
"He's got three more months left until reelection. So what." you answer and shrug your shoulders.
-
You look at him. Taking him all in. The hook of his nose. His eyelashes, that are truly unfair of him to have, and his eyes. His big brown eyes.
You slide your finger down the side of his face, his cheekbone, and smile.
"Is everything okay?" he asks.
You nod slowly, "yeah just can't believe you're mine. It's kinda crazy."
"You're the one out of my league." he tries.
But you counter when you get up and straddle him. With your thighs on either side of his waist you place your hands on top of his chest. He just looks at you, with that face.
He makes the same face whenever you greet him or talk about him to himself. Like he doesn't believe it. Like he thinks it's an illusion or something.
You remind him every day it's not.
"Jason Todd, you are so far out of my league we're not even playing the same sport. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I promise I'll wake up and earn you. Every day." you say.
Jason's eyes go a bit wide. And he holds onto your hands that are place atop his chest. You lean down and press two kisses to the back of his hands.
-
Jason comes to pick you up at work and it's like the sun is shining again. You fold up your apron and jog around the coffee counter. And when you finally meet him at the door, you stop mere inches from him.
He looks down at you with a smile.
"Hi." he says.
You smile even wider, "Hi Jason."
He shakes his head with a smile and brings you into a hug. You hug him back immediately. He rocks the both of you side to side. He also handles you away from the door to not bump into anyone coming into the coffee shop.
"Ready to go home?" he asks.
You nod as you snuggle further into his chest.
-
You lose him in a crowd once. once. It only happens once because after the two of you create a game plan. Contingencies upon contingencies to make sure it doesn't happen again.
When you and Jason are in a packed dive bar. Something about it being trivia night and also happy hour and also a celebration for surviving the latest scarecrow attack.
You're by the bar and he's trying to secure a table for the two of you. And you get a bit down trodden when you realize you can't see him near you. You start looking past the dozens of heads but you still can't find him.
So you do the one thing that you remember from a tv show once. You bend down and look at the shoes. As you crab walk through the crowd you pass by so many of them.
Until you can see his familiar brown boots. The noticeable scuff on them that you saw when he put them on just an hour ago. You pick yourself up and see his head amongst the others.
When you finally get within three feet of him you reach out and call to him. He turns around and he smiles.
"Thought I lost you." he says.
"Nope. I just looked for your boots." you answer.
"We've gotta come up with something else. What if I throw these boots away? Or if someone has the same kind?" he asks.
You put your hand on his cheek, "I'll always find you. The boots just made it easier."
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wifeyoozi · 1 day
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hiiii!!!! i adore your works and love reading them!! 🫶🏻 while scrolling through your profile i saw that your requests for ot13 were open! :) so i thought maybe i could request ot13 reaction to a s/o with tattoos? (doesn't have to be a full sleeve for example, just tattoos in general)
or if you're not really feeling it, maybe ot13 reaction to a s/o with physical touch as their love language? 🫣
i hope you're having a nice day / night and keep up the good work!! 💘
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ot13 seventeen : when your love language is physical touch
ceecee's note : sorry for late post lol and also I'm doing the second prompt not cuz I'm uncomfy with tattoos in fact I have two myself but I just find the second one really fluffy tho if you want me to do another one with the first prompt too, you can ask again and I would love writing about it too <33
seungcheol : he's really clingy himself, so he loves that you show your love to him by constantly hugging him and cuddling with him. when not in front of camera, the two of your really look like those teddy bears who hug each other and have been stitchd at their hands so they can literally not be separated from each other. like two koalas.
jeonghan : doesn't respond to you clinging on him very actively like seungcheol but everytime you hug him, he'll automatically hug back and when you are just touch starved, he'll come and plop his head on your lap so you can touch him and hug him and cuddle him all you want.
joshua : my gentleman. not the one to usually start physical contactbut really loves when you do and responds with almost the same energy. loves having you in his arms and keeping you warm all the time.
junhui : secretly very cuddly. doesn't show it a lot at the start of your relationship. now he'll pout every second you are not physically in contact with him and is just as much of a cuddle bear as you are.
soonyoung : he also naturally has physical-touch as his love language. he is more often clinging on you that you on him and literally loves when you two are hugging so close there is not even space for vacuum between you two, cheeks squishing against each other.
wonwoo : physical affection isnt his love language but he loves being the recipient of it. there are very less people he is as comfortable to be so close and touchy with and you are one of them. he really loves having you cling onto him like you are a koala and he is your tree branch
woozi : he rarely responds to you cuddling to him always, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. he really loves it. he actually feels so loved and appreciated the way you are always holding on him. on rare occasions like when he is tired or just full of love for you, he'll initiate physical touch by hugging you close and clinging to you instead.
minghao : doesn't show on surface to others how much he loves having you constantly bother him with hugs and cuddles and touches but you do know that he really enjoys that just by how he looks at you and smiles at you and always has a loose yet firm hand resting on your hips or back everytime you are by his side.
mingyu : this big baby literally feels so happy every time you cling to him. though physical touch isn't his primary love lang, its definitely one of them. literally greets you with bone-crushing hugs everytime and is peppering you with kisses whenever you cuddle beside him.
seokmin : he loves whenever you are constantly touching him. loves seeing you smile when you hug him and breath full of his scent. hugs you every chance he gets because he knows how much you like it. would never push you off him or even tell you so whenever you are hugging or cuddling him, even if he gets slightly uncomfortable or his arm dies under the weight of your head.
seungkwan : all he really needs after the long day of work is being hugged full by you. it just so helps that you love doing so. literally relaxes under your touch every time, just increasing you urge to keep him close all the time. if you let go of him even momentarily, he'll get so sulky.
vernon : he isn't one to start physical touch by himself either, but is always really comfortable when you do so. doesn't even realsie when he wraps his arms around you and rests his head on top of yours while cuddling. just loves you being in his space when he loves you.
chan : he's the kind who keeps changing his love language to match his partner's. your love language is physical touch? well now so is his! literally matches your energy in cuddliness and touchiness all the time. will hold you close and tight all the time and kiss you all the time because he knows how much you love it.
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Is there hope in us, still? (is there something worth believing in?)
let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here
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pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.4k
genre: fluff, kinda angsty
warnings: slytherin reader, the good good post summer break mental illness, everybody's having some issues here, there will be a pt.2 next week to give it a happy happy ending but this isn't so bad, it has a hopeful ending on its own
a/n: wowie another one lol hope y'all enjoy <3
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Sirius is hollow when he gets back from summer break - quiet and petulant in a way that doesn't suit him anymore, snapping at his peers and pulling away from people's touch. You can't blame him. Especially not when you're feeling the same. You're not quite as showy about it as he is, that constant, underlying desperation to keep it all hidden burning under your skin. Sirius's suffering is loud - loud enough that you always hope it will drown out yours. It never really does, as far as the other two are concerned. 
He shoves towards the door when class ends, likely stalking back to his dorm to hole up for the rest of the evening. James sighs, a hand on Remus' shoulder comfortingly as the boy stares at the doorway where Sirius just was, his brow furrowed in that worried way that he's mastered. 
"We're going to do some studying together in the common room later… see if maybe Pads feels like joining. You're always welcome to come along with us…?" James asks in that gentle way of his, patiently hopeful. You busy yourself with gathering up your books, knowing that if you look at him, you'll crumble. There is love in the way he looks at you, despite everything. You're sure that, if you take notice of it, it would be enough to condemn you these days.
"I'm going to do some work alone tonight," you say shortly, brushing past the two of them. Remus catches your arm as you try to leave, fingers wrapping around your wrist ever so gently. But when you pause, he lets go of you abruptly, like there's something wrong with his touch against yours. This is the beginning, you think. This is where I start to lose you. 
"If you change your mind…" he begins softly. You nod stiffly.
"I'll let you know." James and Remus watch as you leave swiftly, Remus rubbing the palm of his hand against his thigh, as if trying to take back the contact he'd already made with your wrist. This is where it starts, he thinks. This is where you begin to realize that I'm better when I'm left behind.
Remus has to stop himself from startling later that night when he's woken up by a cold hand shaking his shoulder. You hadn't come to study with them that evening, which wasn't surprising, but it hurt something in Remus. James, especially, had deflated, his eyes dull and his hands fidgety while he tried desperately to finish his essay, his thoughts wandering to Sirius and the dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin - and then to you, to the stubborn set of your jaw and the hard look in your eyes. Looking down at his own hands, he wonders what worth they have if he can't even save the people he loves.
Needless to say, the last thing Remus was expecting was to have you in his dorm in the middle of the night, one of Sirius's sweaters shoved hastily over your pajamas as you shook him awake. You place a finger over his lips when he wakes abruptly, climbing up next to him without so much as a word as he fumbles to find his wand on his nightstand, casting a silencing spell over the four-poster bed.
"What's going on, dove?" he asks, his hands itching to hold your face, to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your cheeks and soothe you in some way. But he resists - you're here, in his bed, looking at him like you need him, and the last thing he wants is to overwhelm you and have you scared away. The last thing he can bear to do is put his hands on you, his scars glinting against unblemished skin -  something ruined touching something holy.
"I just… couldn't sleep. I'm not - I haven't been sleeping well these days," you respond, and Remus is sure that if he could see you clearly, if he weren't squinting at you through the dark, you'd be shying away, face tilted away from his eyes, away from any kind of vulnerability.
"Well," he says carefully, reaching out to put a hand on your knee. You don't pull away, to his relief. In fact, you relax a bit into it, letting your posture slouch. "Stay here then, yea?" Much to Remus's delight, that's all it really takes for you to move forward, pulling the blankets back to settle underneath them. He joins you, of course, settling in next to you and letting you decide how much - or how little space to leave between your bodies.
When you reach your hand over, cupping his cheek in your palm and smoothing your thumb over the skin there, he feels a part of him melt in the relief of it, a part of him that didn't realize quite how much he'd missed your touch - your love. He cups his hand over yours, tilting his head to press a series of kisses across your palm. When you continue to let him, sagging further into the pillows, he keeps going, trailing kisses up and down each finger and finishing with your thumb. 
It's then that you pull him closer, tilting your own face up to place your own gentle kiss to his lips before thumping your head against his chest. He lets you, of course, keeping his hand tangled up with yours while the other wraps around you. Before you can sleep, though, he leans close to whisper near your ear.
"James has been wondering where the invisibility cloak disappeared to. I'm sure he'll be pleased to know you're the one who ran off with it." You can't help but smile at his words, your face still pressed against his chest.
"You have so little faith in me, Rem. Not everyone needs the cloak to sneak around in this castle."
"But you did steal it, didn't you?'
"…I'll give it back to him later." Remus huffs out a quiet laugh at your confession, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
"You know he doesn't mind," he soothes. You squeeze his hand in thanks where your fingers are still interlocked.
"Goodnight, Rem… and thank you for this."
"No need to thank me, love. I don't mind at all."
Something clatters to the floor on the other side of the locked bathroom floor and Remus frowns, staring at it like he can burn a hole big enough to see Sirius on the other side - to make sure he's ok. James drapes himself over Remus's back where they're sitting on James's bed together, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Remus lets him, leaning back against him and feeling James sigh at the weight of it, a bit of tension draining from him.
"Were they really here last night? They really came and spoke with you?" James says, his face buried in Remus's neck, a desperate sort of lilt to his voice. Tell me there is hope, he thinks. Tell me I can fix this, still.
"You saw the note they left, love," Remus lets his eyes settle on his nightstand where you'd left the invisibility cloak, a note folded on top with a simple thank you written in it, a heart scrawled next to it that he recognized as yours. The whole thing almost made up for the fact that, by the time Remus had woken up, you'd already been gone.
"Do you think… things will be better now? At least a bit? Were things better last night?" James asks, his arms tightening around Remus's waist. Remus, in an act of reassurance, wraps his fingers around one of James's hands and squeezes gently as Sirius stalks out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and stomping away.
"I do think things are getting better. It's… slower than you and I would like, I know. But all we can is love them - and that, my dear Prongs, I know you can do." James grumbles something unintelligible at the compliment, his face still hidden from view. Remus is sure that, if he could see it, he'd be greeted by the flushed red of James's cheeks. He settles for bringing one of his hands up to press kisses across it, instead, content to bring a bit of hope back to the person he loves - to do something good with this body of his. 
There is hope, he thinks, in this love they all share. There is something here to fight for, still.
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cripplecharacters · 21 hours
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Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.
For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.
Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.
It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!
Hi!
"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.
In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more of a, I don't know, make-up? It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.
It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.
Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.
Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.
The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.
"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."
This, well, sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?
"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."
This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she sure is having fun. That's it.
This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.
I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask!
mod Sasza
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chelseachilly · 2 days
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hey!! it's officially been just over a year since i created this blog and wanted to do something as a little celebration of that. i never thought i would spend so much of my time thinking and reading about footballers but very grateful for the little community on here that's still obsessing and writing about my chelsea (and former chels) boys 💓
i do have some more fics of my own in the works (check out my masterlist to see the ones i've written so far) but in the meantime, i wanted to share some of my favourites i've read! this definitely isn't a complete list and i'm sure i'm forgetting some, but i hope you all enjoy this compilation of wonderful fics (it's mostly ben and mase but some others as well!)
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ben chilwell 🩵
big news by @gagaslonina
therapy by @gagaslonina
support by @gagaslonina
the cursed last step by @carlottawllms
we'll be alright by @carlottawllms
come back stronger by @chilwellspulisic
forbidden to me by @neverinadream (18+)
my champion of europe by @babygirlbenji
that's my daddy by @babygirlbenji
snowflakes on the glass by @whorekneecentral (18+)
reunions and surprises by @tommyspeakycap
welcome to the family by @tommyspeakycap (18+)
mason mount 🤍
looking after you by @mountsmase
coming home to you by @mountsmase
mornings like this by @mountsmase (18+)
take the pain away by @pulisicsgirl
caring for you by @pulisicsgirl
breathe, you're okay by @pulisicsgirl
our life changing moment by @tsimvkas
easy with you by @carlottawllms (18+)
someone to you by @carlottawllms
the moment he knew by @carlottawllms
winter sun by @mountttmase (series, 18+)
always there by @mountttmase
home is where the heart Is + always meant to be (2-parter) by @mountttmase
ships in the night by @mountttmase
anytime you need me by @masonmtxo
thank your missus + part two by @masonmtxo
as well as every fic by @sid-vii, she's been reposting them on her new blog so i recommend you read them if you haven't already <3
christian pulisic 🩶
flustered assessments by @pulisicsgirl
sleepy by @pulisicsgirl
his girls by @pulisicsgirl
running home to your sweet nothings by @captainpulisic
is it cool that i said all that? by @captainpulisic
better with you by @tsimvkas
birthday surprise by @thoseboysinblue (18+)
be mine by @thoseboysinblue (18+)
cold hands by @thoseboysinblue (18+)
other footie boys 🖤
unauthorized posts by @gagaslonina (levi colwill)
summer getaway by @yellowkitkieran (andy robertson)
not just the physio by @tommyspeakycap (andy robertson)
feeling some type of way by @tommyspeakycap (andy robertson, 18+)
secret secrets by @gagaslonina (conor gallagher)
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sshannonauthor · 2 days
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Hello, Tumblr:
Just popping in, after a long absence, to tell you about the pre-order campaign for my Author's Preferred Text editions of the Bone Season series.
As you may know if you've followed me for a while, I wrote my debut novel, The Bone Season, when I was nineteen and still at university. For its tenth anniversary last year, I decided to re-approach the book with ten years' more writing experience under my belt, and have since revised the whole series to bring it in line with the first. Bloomsbury has given the revised series a beautiful new look, with jackets illustrated by Ivan Belikov, the artist behind The Priory of the Orange Tree and A Day of Fallen Night.
The first book is available in hardback now, and the other three are coming in May, in either hardback or paperback. The audiobooks will also be revised, with narration by Alana Kerr Collins. You can pre-order them here.
If you're pre-ordering from the US, the UK or Canada, you can claim a beautiful art print of Paige and Warden by artist Erica Chan. Details here.
I hope you enjoy the revisions as much as I've enjoyed working on them.
-
The year is 2059. For two centuries, the Republic of Scion has led an oppressive campaign against unnaturalness in Europe. 
In London, Paige Mahoney holds a high rank in the criminal underworld. The right hand of the ruthless White Binder, Paige is a dreamwalker, a rare and formidable kind of clairvoyant. Under Scion law, she commits treason simply by breathing. 
When Paige is arrested for murder, she meets the mysterious founders of Scion, who have designs on her uncommon abilities. If she is to survive and escape, Paige must use every skill at her disposal – and put her trust in someone who ought to be her enemy.
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cannellee · 3 days
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Hi. This is about the alpha South x omega x alpha Mikey post for clarity.
Imagine how furious alpha Mikey would be if he found out that alpha South already got omega (name) pregnant.
I think he would go nuts lmao
TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆
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୨୧ alpha! south x omega! reader x yandere!alpha! mikey (read this for more context)
— mikey finds out you're pregnant with south's kid
cw : delusional mikey, violence, slight breeding kink, baby trapping
a/n : btw I don't like yanderes who are violent towards their s/o, so mikey acts sweetly towards reader even though that might not be a representative reaction!! I hope you'll still enjoy!
my masterlist: ☆
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it would definitely not end well for any of you.
while dating south, you were in such a vulnerable state of mind that you got carried away. he showered you with the affection you came to miss and crave when you were with mikey and you honestly didn't give too much thought about what you were doing with south at night...
it wasn't surprising for you to end up the way you did, little bump on your stomach, which you always caressed and touched after you learned the news.
south was fine with having his omega pregnant, only thing which prevented him from being fully happy was his worry for your safety.
now imagine you left mikey's side for more than two months, so that your belly could show a little. you're growing more and more stressed because of south's behaviour, it's suspicious and weird and with your hormones being all over the place, you're feeling even more distressed.
when you follow him and are met with the most unexpected sight, your breathing quickens and your scent couldn't be more sour. you were sensitive before, but now that you were pregnant that's another story.
when you threw yourself on south, all mikey could feel was pure anger and grabbed your arms roughly to pry you off of him.
yes you were fragile, mikey knew that. but when you fell on your side after he simply pushed you away, he flinched at the pained whine you involuntarily let out.
he looked at you, confused and worried. albeit his initial rage, he managed to decipher your scent between all the strong pheromones of all the alphas out there. it was sweet, sugary and very soft. mikey would've recognisable it with no efforts.
but something wasn't right, something was different. you watched as he breathed through his nose, frown deepening at the foreign aroma around you. your strawberry pheromones were all over the place and decoupled, and among it, a nice new smell of pink sugar grazed his nostrils.
it smelled divinely good, but most importantly, it stirred up mikey's instincts in an abnormal way. he felt on edge, protective thoughts circling in his mind. it's like you wanted everyone to be aware of how fragile you were, to have them know you were powerless and in need of reassurance.
and when mikey looked you up and down, that's when he noticed your slightly round belly, a protective hand over it.
wide eyes, mikey took a while before actually understanding what exactly he was seeing, completely shocked. he questioned you with his eyes, hoping you would simply shake your head 'no' and grace him with the answer he wanted to hear. but you didn't and he couldn't feel more enraged.
he furiously looked at south and wasted no time in showering him with punches. all his yelling hurt your poor ears as your hands did nothing at trying to cover the noise.
mikey was unstoppable as he screamed profanities at south, promising him to never let him go unless he was perfectly sure he would never touch you again.
not only did you run away from him and gave yourself to another alpha, but that bastard even had the audacity to get you fucking pregnant. the marks mikey had left on your body months ago were deep enough to surely be still present ; it was a clear indicator that you were somebody else's. anyone would have backed off and refuse to have sex with you. but this asshole just had to ignore all those claims and deliberately court his omega.
mikey was simply blinded with rage as he hit him relentlessly, aiming for south's weak spots, wrecking his limp body as much as he could.
you couldn't muster the courage to move and you had no choice but to witness mikey's terrifying actions. you were still on the floor, silently sobbing because of the more than monstrous scene in front of you.
fortunately, your current state had made your scent more easily detectable so that you could communicate your desires and troubles better with your alpha during such a vulnerable time.
it flew right to mikey's nose, instincts to take care of his omega took over him and he found the control in himself to actually stop his butchery.
you saw mikey whip his head towards you, instantly letting go of south's bruised body. he slowly came up to you, disapproval written all over his face and urge to take you away from here eating him up alive.
he couldn't get his eyes off of your belly when he helped you sit down properly. he didn't know how to feel about this. be mad at you ? get into an argument with you to convey just how fucking furious he was ?
truthfully, you weren't to blame here, mikey thought. you were just a poor omega seeking comfort, south was the one who took advantage of you. he exploited your need for a strong presence next to you when mikey couldn't give you that.
you could've said anything to deny his words, mikey was clearly not admitting that it was a choice you made consciously. his lovely omega would have never betrayed him this much.
amidst the chaos, he couldn't think properly and instead chose to end his fight with south. he had to make sure you were safely taken away from south's greedy hands, in mikey's home where it was definitely the safest for you to stay considering your condition.
you should be cocooned by your alpha inside a warm nest, safe and sound and surrounded by reassuring items. but instead you're out there in the wild, all alone and unsupervised and trying to stop a fight right in the middle of a place crowed with thousands of alphas.
mikey was fuming, absolutely devastated by how poorly you were taken care of and the rage he felt was incomparable to anything he had ever felt.
he knew he would have done a better job at protecting you and while he had that tiny hope the baby inside you was his, at this time it really didn't matter in his eyes.
all he could see was your shaking form, forehead sweating from how much pressure you were under. your alpha was supposed to provide you anything, shelter you and protect you, especially during such a precious moment of pure vulnerability.
but here you were. you couldn't count on anybody and mikey's heart shattered upon seeing your tear-stained face and defenceless arms desperately trying to defend your poor excuse of an alpha.
he carefully carried you away from this place, placing a jacket over you to prevent you from getting sick.
you had no words to say in this situation, you simply had to follow what mikey wanted and considered to be the right thing.
he placed you gently on the soft bed, showering you with his clothes to remove all foreign smells from you. mikey had to claim you again, make sure you were scented from head to toe. this is what good alphas do to soothe their omegas after all!
and this was his priority at the moment. to put you to sleep, get your mind off of south and all the problems he brought to you.
you were easier to manipulate as the hormones of pregnancy made your omega more receptive to the orders and voice of an alpha. you could try and fight off your instincts, mikey still had the upper hand and wouldn't give up until you obeyed and followed what he considered as the best choice right now. you needed rest and that's what you were gonna get.
and the hectic day soon got the best of you that you finally dozed off, calmly breathing in the familiar scent of mikey's sheets.
your sleeping figure helped mikey release a bit of tension, knowing his omega was right where she belonged and that her future pup was in good hands.
all that remained to be done now was to get your stuff back from south's apartment and take care of south himself. there was no way he was gonna let some stranger be the father of your kid. you belonged to mikey and by extension, the child you bore was also his, he wouldn't have it any other way.
he'll go out his way to find south again and prevent him from claiming your child, probably aiming to kill him in the process. mikey was going to be the only support in your life, the only pillar you'll need. he'll be the only one present during your pregnancy, guaranteeing you to never let you feel hurt or scared ever again.
you won't go out again as well, he saw how today affected you and quickly understood it was all too much for your poor little pregnant omega heart. too sensitive and emotional...
mikey will force you to stay still, waiting at home for him until you finally give birth. his instincts are so strong and overwhelming, he'll enter a blind rage if his omega isn't cocooned in the warmth and safety of her nest, in her alpha's home.
he's actually somehow glad you got pregnant, although he would have preferred to be the biological father. but now he has a great excuse to keep you by his side. he exploits your weaknesses and lack of financial support to insert himself into your life for good. he scares you into thinking you need him to keep you safe, that alphas will rush to hurt you once they learn you're this helpless and trying to raise a kid on your own.
he'll definitely get you pregnant soon after you give birth, wanting a kid of his own blood. he's so deep into a possessive state of mind that he wants nothing more than to see you all cutely waddle around the house because of the seeds he put into you. he wants to claim you in the most primal way. his intentions are mostly triggered by your past with south but also because he feels like baby trapping you is the most efficient way to keep you right next to him.
in the end, mikey's commitment towards you will grow significantly in the future. once south is disposed of, he'll purely focus on you, knowing nothing will ever get in between the two of you ever again.
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imdead770 · 2 days
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anything for Luke and a daughter of hecate, ANYTHING FOR THEM......
had to do my research for this one
for context Hecate is the goddess of witchcraft, magic, ghosts, stuff like that. There's probably more but that's what I got from my one minute google search
I kept this kind of fluffy because I wanted to switch it up, I hope that's okay! If you want smut feel free to request again 🩷
Enjoy!
Luke didn't known much about your mother, most people didn't. She was one of the smaller goddesses. Well, not small, she just wasn't as well known as Athena or Aphrodite. He had heard her name a few times around camp, not thinking much of it. He didn't pay much attention to the name until he realized your own name was associated with it. Whenever you came to camp, eventually getting claimed by Hecate, he started to do his research. He started listening if one of the counselors talked about her or reading more thoroughly if he saw her name in a book. He wanted to learn more about her for one reason; to get closer to you.
Once he learned more about her, he started seeing the resemblances between the two of you. Your long, silky dark hair was exactly how some book described your mother, as well as your overall beauty. If Hecate hadn't of claimed you, it probably would have been Aphrodite. It also made sense why you and some of the Hades' kids were close, you were all connected to the dead. Another thing that made you alike, you were magical. Something about you almost made him feel as if he was put under some sort of spell. Every time you walked into a room, smiling and laughing, it was as if you enchanted him. Every time he was the cause of your laughter, he would melt, almost as if you had cursed him to fall in love with you.
He didn't know how, but your godly parent eventually came up in a conversation. And God's had he prepared for this moment.
"Yeah, she can control ghosts and magic n' all that, right?"
All of that research was worth it. The way you looked at him, your face holding one of your signature, beautiful smiles.
"Yeah... she can. How'd you know that?"
"Uh... I dunno, I've just always found her interesting."
He managed to get out that excuse, you seemed to believe it. Your smile only grew, sending butterflies into his stomach again.
As the two of you kept talking, your mother fading away and the conversation becoming more natural, he was all smiles. He was smiling for a few reasons. One being that he was proud of himself for being productive and learning about your mother. The main reason, though, was you. How your lips moved when you talked, your sing-songy voice leaving them as you joked around with him. He hadn't realized he was starring until you pointed it out.
"Luke? Are you okay? You're like zoning out or something."
"Hm?"
He forced himself to look away from your gorgeous smile, meeting your eyes. They looked stunning. The light hit them perfectly, giving them a magical glow as if your mother was casting a spell from Olympus. As if she and Aphrodite were cursing him to fall head over heels in love and not have a single say in it. Once again he was zoning out, gazing into your eyes like a lovestruck fool. He could've mustered up another excuse if he kept his mouth shut. That only confirmed his theory of being cursed.
"You have really pretty eyes, yknow.."
Shit. He didn't even mean to say that, the words just left his lips. Your mother must've hated him. He wanted to go and dive off the dock and never come back up for air. He was about to go do so until you spoke again.
"Yeah..?"
Since he had been looking down like a flustered idiot, he hadn't noticed the way your smile grew after his words. He hadn't noticed the way your eyes lit up, nor the way you were blushing yourself. Not as badly as him, but you were still blushing.
"..Yeah."
He looked back up to meet your eyes again, finally noticing how your smile became a grin. He couldn't help but mimic the expression, it was infectious.
He didn't notice how you had scooted closer, bit he did notice how you leaned in. He noticed how your beautiful eyes softly closed, and he especially noticed how your lips met his. It all happened so fast, but Gods.. it was magical.
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befemininenow · 2 days
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My coming out as a trans lesbian. (A message to my followers.)
Yes, everyone. I am "gay", or should I say, I'm a lesbian.
This may come as a shock to some of you since I would talk about "hot men" and even make captions about attracting hunks and whatnot. If you notice an absurd amount of those kind of captions surfacing this past week until now, that's because I was dealing with comphet, short for compulsive heterosexuality. In reality, I do not like men nor am I attracted to masculinity.
Why until now? One, it’s because I wanted to wait for the right time to come out and it was coincidentally on Lesbian Visibility Day. Two, it’s something I've been questioning ever since I found out I was trans. This didn’t happen in a day or two. It’s been years and I would have thought I was just pansexual. However, I was not sure whether I genuinely liked boys or if I just liked their validation. It turns out it's only the latter and I was questioning whether I was really gay or just gynosexual. I admit that getting positive reception from them turned me on and I could see the kindness and affection they displayed towards other women (something that really made me euphoric). But the moment you would place me next them for more, say, intimacy (I'm trying to keep it PG), I felt that spark turn off. Don't even get me started when they're bare or worse, send me D-picks (it's so nasty).
Now, I've never did any of that IRL. But, I've tried to interact with them through social sites. Not just in Tumblr, but in other sites like Grindr. If you ever think of creating a Grindr to meet, don't bother. It's hot garbage! All of them were chasers and not a single one was attractive. Only one "guy" seemed to be "cute"; it was a femboy, who was commencing their transition into a woman. Those were the only men I thought I was attracted to, but the reality is: I was only attracted to their femininity, but not their body or intimacy. Femboys are still men and I'm not attracted to men.
That got me questioning: Am I really only liking people for their femininity or do I genuinely only like girls? To make a long story short, I've never felt so much better than imagining myself being the lovely girl... of another girl! I always loved women as a guy, but now that I'm about to transition, being into women as a girl feels so right for me! No more comphet for me!
I know this is not the norm on these kind of blogs as the majority tend to be attracted to masculinity. However, I do want to say that even trans lesbians exist on the feminization scene. That leads me to tell all of you for the next update: You won't be seeing anymore new straight trans girl captions after the first few days of the next month. That's why you saw those kind of captions bombard my blog these past few days. It's just my way of saying "Let me just get it done with". I'm actually glad you enjoyed them, but I just don't feel any connection to those kind of captions anymore. I'll try to upload them when I can since I've been busier than usual.
Anyways, I'm happy you read this very long post. Even if you're not a lesbian, I hope this note at least gives you an insight on not keeping your true feelings locked any longer. Everyone deserves to be themselves. You should too.
Sincerely, Nikki.
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bosbas · 2 days
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Chapter 9: I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.0k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, small part of the dialogue in French, colin being incredibly down bad it's insane, Penelope DOES NOT have feelings for colin in this, the bridgertons being tapped in as fuck
Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?
A/N: this one wrote itself basically. so enjoy! happy weekend and a big smooch
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June 6 – It seems that one Mr. Nigel Berbrooke has returned after an extended unexplained absence. He was spotted at the gentleman's club last night, though only for a very short time. This author heard that Mr. Berbrooke was asked to leave only an hour into his appearance due to a particularly aggressive threat he made toward Simon Basset. It’s safe to say that he has been uninvited from the Duke’s ball this evening, and perhaps from the rest of the social season’s events as well, depending on how lenient the Duke and Duchess of Hastings decide to be. 
However, information regarding his whereabouts for the past month is scarce, and this author lacks any reputable sources about what the man has been up to while away from London. But rest assured, dear readers, that any information I receive will be relayed through this very column.
Colin looked nervously at his reflection for what seemed like the hundredth time, adjusting his cravat ever so slightly. He sighed in frustration, accepting the fact that his appearance wouldn’t look quite right no matter what he did. 
Tonight was Daphne’s ball, and he knew for a fact that you would be in attendance. As much as he was trying to convince himself that this ball was no different, he knew it wasn’t going to be the same. Not after his talk with Anthony. There were some concerningly similar aspects between Kate and Anthony and his friendship– could he even call it a friendship? –with you, and Colin was not too hard-headed to be able to admit that. 
But he didn’t want to scare you off. As much as he liked you, he knew you were skittish after everything that happened with Lord Barlow. Besides, Colin didn’t even know if you liked him, too, or if you considered all of this as just an attempt to make you look desirable to other candidates. 
Frankly, Colin wasn’t even sure he could convince you to ever marry him. Maybe just being friends, or whatever it was the two of you had now, would suffice. Truthfully, he would take anything. 
Tonight, he just wanted a dance. And perhaps a chat, too. 
Based on the past few times Colin had spoken with you, he had concluded that you might be his favorite person in the ton to talk to. The mere thought of speaking with you tonight stirred excitement in his stomach. Every time you engaged in conversation, he found himself utterly captivated, forgetting everything else around him. What's more, you seemed genuinely interested in his what he had to say, a rarity among the ton. For the first time, he felt truly understood, and he hoped desperately that you reciprocated his sentiment. 
“You look fine,” assured Eloise. “Now can we please go? We’ll never hear the end of it from Daphne if we’re late!” 
Colin grumbled in annoyance but begrudgingly made his way to the carriage. In truth, he'd do just about anything to be near you. Even if he didn’t immediately dance with you– knowing full well you would be flocked by hordes of gentlemen wanting your hand in marriage– he still liked to simply… observe you. How your eyes crinkled shut when you laughed, the way you nervously bit your lip when someone you didn’t particularly like asked you to dance, the way you fiddled with your gloves when you were itching to get out of a conversation.
Bloody hell, Colin thought, maybe he did have feelings for you. Well, not love, that would be absurd. But certainly something more than the petty rivalry that had consumed your interactions for weeks on end. It was a sobering realization, especially after relentlessly antagonizing you for the better part of seven weeks.
He was so caught up in his thoughts about you that Colin barely noticed once the carriage had arrived at Daphne and Simon’s residence.
“Colin, darling, is anything the matter?” his mother inquired, tapping him on the arm and gently leading him toward his sister’s home.
“No, no, sorry. Everything’s alright, just got a bit distracted there,” he smiled back. 
Christ, he had to get a grip. You’d be put off immediately if you saw how he was acting now. He smoothed his coat down as he entered the ballroom, eyes immediately searching for you in the crowd.
He quickly spotted you speaking to a man he’d never seen before with Isabelle and Carlos by your side. Damn, thought. He’d have to wait to ask you to dance. 
But it was no bother. In the meantime, he attended to his duties as the most beloved Bridgerton. He sought out his sister and Simon to thank them for hosting the ball, of course, and danced with Penelope Featherington. 
Yet his focus stayed on you. He found himself glancing over to where you were every few minutes, just needing reassurance that you were still there. And also because he quite liked looking at you in general.  
Colin shook his head, bringing his attention back to Penelope. He had to remind himself to pull himself together. Even though Colin had spoken to Anthony, you had no reason to believe anything was different between you two. And it wasn’t. Everything was the same. It was only Colin who had changed. Who wanted something different, something more. 
“What’s on your mind?” asked Penelope after she noticed Colin’s drifting attention.
“Ah, nothing,” he responded dismissively. “Does Lady Montclair look particularly… subdued tonight, do you think?”
“Y/N?” Penelope clarified, looking over at where you were standing next to Louis. 
“Oh heavens, don’t look now!” Colin whispered, panicked. “She’ll see us both looking and know we were talking about her.”
Penelope laughed in disbelief. “Could it be? That my dear friend Colin Bridgerton is finally falling for someone? Have you truly found roots in England? Is that why you’ve stayed for so long this season?”
Colin could only smile bashfully. She had never seen him quite like this. And though it was unusual, it was fairly endearing to see him so flustered over a girl.
“Well, go talk to her, then. What are you doing dancing with me?”
“Penelope, I dance with you at every ball. I can go speak with her after. And don’t tell anyone! I’m not even sure if she likes me.”
“Very well then,” relented Penelope, but Colin did not miss the knowing smile she sent him.
After the dance concluded, Colin chatted with his brothers for a few minutes before making his way over to you and Louis, wanting to avoid seeming overly eager. But once he started walking toward you, your head shot up, as if you could tell that he was getting nearer. 
Your eyes met for a split second, but you immediately turned your head away, choosing instead to look at your gloved hands, which were fidgeting nervously. Colin frowned in confusion at your reaction, but continued walking, thinking that perhaps you had seen someone else behind him. 
As he reached your side, he saw you chewing anxiously on your lip and his frown deepened. But he pushed through. This was what he wanted, after all. You were what he wanted. 
“Lady Montclair,” he bowed. “Would you care for a dance tonight?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his lips as he reached for the dance card on your wrist.
But you pulled your hand away abruptly, refusing to meet his eyes. “No, thank you, Mr. Bridgerton,” was your curt response. 
Colin’s confusion morphed into frustration. What was the matter with you?
“That’s alright, I understand if you want to save space on your dance card for more…serious suitors,” he cringed as he heard himself speak. But at the end of the day, he was well aware that you were looking for a titled gentleman to be your husband. “We could take a turn about the ballroom and chat for a bit,” he offered, looking at you hopefully once again.
You finally met his eyes, and he could tell you were searching for something as you looked at him, a pained look on your face.
“No, thank you,” you repeated firmly, an edge to your voice. 
Colin rolled his eyes. This was so typical of you. You let him in for about three seconds and then went back to keeping him at arm’s length for whatever unknown reason.
“Are we really back to doing this?” asked Colin, exasperated. “I thought we were friends, at the very least.”
Your spine was suddenly rigid, and a fury ignited in your eyes. “We were never friends, Mr. Bridgerton,” you ground out. “You were simply doing Eloise a favor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone else I must dance with.”
Your voice was cold and uncaring, and Colin was slapped with a reminder of how things used to be as you sidestepped him to go toward the other side of the ballroom. 
Three steps into your journey, it was clear that there wasn’t actually anyone waiting to dance with you, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why you were so desperate to get away. Even at the peak of your hatred toward him, you were always open to verbally sparring. 
Colin turned around to Louis, shooting him a questioning look. But your brother could only shrug. Who knew what went on in the depths of your brain? Louis had noticed you had been slightly on edge ever since you returned from Hyde Park with your sisters yesterday afternoon, but he wasn’t expecting you to be this hostile, especially after getting along so well with Colin.
Feeling his desire to speak with you outweigh his pride, Colin turned back and grabbed your hand, turning you to face him. “If what you want is to go back to arguing, I’m happy to do that,” he said, heart sinking to his stomach at the thought of going back to how things were.
He sounded positively pathetic. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was keeping this fragile dynamic alive, keeping you near him. If Anthony and Kate could do it, couldn’t the two of you?
You seemed on the brink of tears, but your voice held an unspeakable fury. “What I want is for you to leave. Me. Alone,” you emphasized each word with a pointed jab at his chest. “Please,” you whispered, your voice faltering. “I do not wish to dance with you, or to chat with you, or even to be near you at all. Good night.”
With that, you pivoted away, heading towards the refreshment table, tears welling in your eyes. And Colin was left standing there, hand lingering over the spot on his chest you had prodded.
He felt a familiar anger rising through him. It didn’t matter that you were the only person in the world who understood him. It didn’t matter that you were completely beautiful and incredibly smart, either. And it certainly didn’t matter that he’d fallen for you. Because you still hated him. And he was a fool to ever think things could be different.
Colin was rooted to the spot, unable to move as he watched you smile and greet some gentleman or other. He flinched as he saw the man kiss the back of your hand, and watched, seething, as he led you to the dance floor. 
Deciding he needed something stronger than lemonade, Colin turned around and grabbed a glass of champagne, downing it in one go. He couldn’t believe you didn’t think he was your friend. What the hell else could you call it?
He spotted Eloise and Penelope chatting close by and stomped over to them. He was sure he looked like Gregory after a fight with Hyacinth, pouting with his arms crossed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 
“I thought you were going to talk to Y/N,” said Penelope, confused to see him back so soon. 
Colin shot her a murderous look. “She wants nothing to do with me, apparently. She said the only reason I talked to her was out of a favor to Eloise.”
Eloise coughed awkwardly. “Well, didn’t you?”
“No!” shot back Colin defensively. “Not entirely, at least. I don’t know. I need to leave.” 
You were still dancing with the unnamed man, and Colin was very much still seething as he watched the pair of you twirl around and smile at one another. 
Usually, it was frustrating to watch you dance with other people because you were never like that with him. But this well and truly hurt. It hurt to see you like this when he knew, now for a fact, that he could never have that with you again. 
“I need to leave,” he repeated. He couldn’t bear to watch you do this all night.
Snatching another glass of champagne and downing that one, too, he bid his goodbyes to Penelope and Eloise and made his way across the ballroom to the exit.
“Are you leaving already, darling? You’ve barely been here an hour,” Colin heard next to him as a hand reached out for his elbow. 
Turning around, he faced his mother, who looked like she was in the middle of a conversation with Anthony and Benedict. 
Colin nodded. “I’m sorry, mother. I just can’t. I can’t stay,” he responded, voice breaking as he glanced back toward you again. 
Seeing you lean to whisper something in your suitor’s ear, he slumped forward, practically feeling physical pain at the sight. 
“I must go,” Colin said firmly, giving his mother a quick squeeze and rushing to the door. 
Violet nodded, bewildered, and followed where Colin’s gaze had been. Finding you dancing with Lord Norcliffe, Violet sent a knowing look to Benedict and Anthony. 
“I suppose Hyacinth was right,” she said sympathetically.
“And don’t you dare tell her! It’ll get to her head,” responded Benedict. 
---
“The Bridgertons will be in attendance tonight,” your mother informed you carefully as you sat in the carriage on the way to yet another ball. 
“And by the Bridgertons you mean…”
“She means Colin, yes,” answered Jacques, earning a stifled laugh from his wife, Chiara. 
Ever since they’d been back and learned of your intense hatred for Colin, Jacques had not been able to stop making a mockery of it. Usually, you were quite agreeable, and it was rare that you found yourself at odds with someone who wasn’t your sibling, so this seemingly unprompted hatred was quite amusing to your brother. 
You groaned and glared at him. “No one asked you to come tonight, you know. In fact, no one asked you to come to England at all! You could have stayed in Tuscany, and I would have been much happier.”
“Ah, but then I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to tease you about this,” answered Jacques, completely unbothered by your biting tone. 
“Whatever,” you grumbled in response, only slightly comforted by Chiara’s apologetic smile as she softly scolded her husband.
It had been four days since your run-in with Nigel, and three since you saw Colin at Daphne’s ball, and the thought of seeing him again made you feel sick. It was already bad enough that he was disgusting and had no respect for you, but it was made infinitely worse by the fact that you had let yourself grow to care for him. In a friendly way, of course. You could never have married him, anyway. But it was still embarrassing that you fell into his charming trap and thought that you could become something more than a conquest for him.
“Be nice,” your mother whispered in warning as you approached the Bridgertons. 
You shrugged her off, not needing a reminder. You had been brought up to be the perfect lady. You weren’t about to forget yourself now. You refused to give Colin that power. 
You greeted the family warmly until you got to Colin. “Mr. Bridgerton,” you said, giving him a curt nod.
Not waiting for a response, you moved to stand away from him as you looked out at the crowd. Perhaps you would find a gentleman who was actually enjoyable to talk to, though your chances seemed slim. 
Colin shifted uncomfortably on his feet, watching you intently. It seemed that your behavior at Daphne’s ball hadn’t been a fluke, after all. He ground his teeth in annoyance, growing increasingly irritated by the fact that you were just standing there.
Why weren’t you doing anything? It was infuriating. Perhaps it would have been less infuriating if it were anyone else, but it seemed like anything you did was particularly vexing to him.
Making his way over to you, he stopped beside you. Wanting to slip back into the comfort of your tumultuous dynamic, Colin took a shot at your attire. “I see the modiste-”
“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice shaking, barely above a whisper, and your gaze locked ahead of you. 
Colin was taken aback. You had never, in all the time that he had known you, backed down from an argument. It seemed that you just… didn’t want him around at all. You hated him enough that you didn’t want to be near him. And in any way that mattered, it was worse than when you were antagonizing him.
“I’m sorry,” Colin said desperately. “I didn’t mean- Look, can we please talk? Just quickly, I just want-”
But you didn’t even let him finish. “There’s nothing to say.”
Colin scoffed, a futile attempt to hide how hurt he was really feeling. “What do you mean there isn’t anything to say? I have things to say, at least. Just talk to me.”
You finally turned to face him, feeling your stomach drop as you looked at his desperate eyes searching yours for an answer. 
“Let me rephrase. I do not wish to speak with you, in any capacity, now or any time in the future. I do not care to hear what you have to say, Mr. Bridgerton, and I would appreciate it if you could respect that, though I know that’s not usually in your nature.”
Colin could only sputter, staring at you in disbelief as you walked away. He felt his stomach turn uncomfortably as you reached a man he didn’t know, but whom you’d danced with at Daphne’s Ball. 
He had to have done something wrong. Colin hadn’t the slightest clue what, but you obviously had something against him, and it clearly wasn’t just you being silly. 
He swore under his breath. You were impossible. Not even Eloise knew why you hated him! How on earth was he supposed to know how to fix this when you refused to speak with him? It was almost easier when all you did was hurl insults at him and step on his feet as he poured lemonade down your dress.
Over on the dance floor, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Colin, mentally scolding yourself every time you did. This was not how you were supposed to be acting toward the man who had jumped at the first opportunity to compromise you.
The only reason you were dancing with Lord Norcliffe now was because he had not arrived in London until after your whole debacle with Lord Barlow. You supposed he could have heard what happened from someone else, but he was safer than the rest of the men of the ton, you thought grimly. It would’ve helped if he was interesting to talk to, or even nice to look at, but you supposed you couldn’t be very selective.
Curtsying and thanking Lord Norcliffe for the dance, you made a beeline toward Carlos and Philippe across the room. 
“You look like you don’t want to be here,” commented your brother, amused. 
You rolled your eyes at him. “Astute observation, Philippe.”
Carlos laughed and gave you a comforting pat on the head. “But what happened to your season in England? I thought you were excited to be here?”
“My mother and father were certainly excited,” you mused, taking Philippe’s lemonade and drinking from it. 
Seeing their confused looks, you briefly explained your encounter with Nigel Berbrooke, and they suddenly became very concerned. 
“Ce connard! Il est où? Je vai le tuer,” growled Philippe under his breath, not wanting the rest of the ton to hear his threat (That asshole! Where is he? I’m going to kill him).
“Philippe, it’s alright,” you assured him, glancing over at Carlos and seeing that he, too, had understood your brother’s words despite not speaking French. “I believe Simon Basset took care of him at White’s a few days ago.”
“That’s just as well, or I’d have done it myself,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“You can just come to Spain next year, cariño,” Carlos said warmly.
You smiled up at your brother-in-law, silently thanking him for the offer even though you knew your parents would never allow it. 
Colin watched enviously as you had a conversation with your older brother and your older sister’s husband. He wished he could talk to you again. Even if nothing got resolved between you, he liked to hear your voice. He loved how stubborn you were and how frustrated you got when you forgot the English word for something. He just missed you, he supposed. 
Which is why, as Colin watched yet another man approach you and write their name on your dance card, he decided he couldn’t do this anymore. The watching, the waiting, the wanting. He couldn’t do any of it anymore. 
“I need to leave,” he said firmly.
Daphne, who had been standing beside him, turned to face him, startled. “Leave where?”
“India, Egypt, Morocco, back to Greece. I don’t care. I just need to get out of here.”
“What? Why?” asked Daphne, still confused. 
“You know why,” Colin responded flatly, giving her an unimpressed look. 
Daphne instinctively turned to look at you, laughing as the man you were dancing with whispered something to you. She turned to look back at her brother with a disappointed look.
“I can’t imagine leaving would be the best option.” 
“Why not?” Colin shot back. “What good can my presence possibly do?”
Daphne put a hand on her brother’s elbow, giving him a sympathetic look. However, her voice was firm. “You always leave when it gets hard, you know? You’re always the first out the door and onto a different continent. Why are you so scared of staying?”
Colin was stunned. He didn’t know his motives were that obvious. But he supposed it made sense for Daphne to know since she knew him better than most people.  
“I’m not scared of staying,” Colin insisted defensively. “I just think it’ll be better for everyone if I go.”
Daphne furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. “And do what? What could you possibly be doing that is so important that you would abandon the woman you love?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Colin argued, his voice growing strained as he felt his chest getting tighter. “None of it matters. She doesn’t love me back. I could be down the street or in Brazil and she wouldn’t even notice. She clearly hates me and wants nothing to do with me, so why should I stay?”
Daphne crossed her arms, looking more than a little disappointed. “Well, I won’t be the one to stop you if you decide to go. But really think about whether you want to be the person who leaves time and again. Things could change. It's only been a few days since she's been like this.”
She had a point, but Colin was too upset to admit it. Daphne was right. He couldn’t just leave now. If anything, it would hurt him more than being near you with you not speaking to him. It was the strangest feeling, knowing you loved someone but feeling powerless to do anything about it. 
Colin knew he couldn’t continue like this. Perhaps he couldn’t leave, but he could certainly stay as far away as possible. 
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bisexualiteaa · 2 days
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Hi honey, I just discovered your Cooper fics today and oh my gods. They're incredible, I love the way you write him ❤️. I was wondering, if you're still taking requests that is (no pressure like), if you could do a sub! Cooper x reader? Preferably male!reader or with male genitalia, but fem is totally okay if you're not comfortable with that 😁. I just think Coop with a taller, more muscular partner is neat.
I'm thinking the reader was secretly married to Coop and Barb beforehand, but lost part of their memories after they became a ghoul and one of the best bounty hunters around, wearing a mask. And all they remember about Coop is how beautiful his eyes were (Walton Goggins has the most gorgeous eyes ever, I swear 😫) So the reader wants the head too and tags along with the gang, eventually getting closer to Cooper. During a fight, reader gets hurt and Coop comes over to help them, but reader is finally close enough to properly see his eyes and realises it's him. Coop takes off the mask, reader remembers, there's tears, kisses, and eventually super soft, subby sex.
So, really just really angsty, then fluffy when they find each other after 200 years. Reader taking care of our baby girl Coop, and him just accepting the love and being a pillow princess. Maybe a little overstim and edging if we're feeling spicy 😉.
I'm so sick for this man, it's unhealthy. Thanks again for your amazing work, love. I absolutely made my day better! (Sorry for how long this ask is 🙃).
It’s Been a Long, Long Time
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Cooper Howard x Ghoul Fem Reader (angst-fluff!)
CW: pre-ghoul Cooper, established relationship, reader and Cooper were married and had a child together, character death, cursing, angst!! But don’t worry, it’s a happy ending, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from the TV series
AN: not me posting this at 3am before I leave for a trip for the weekend, I feel like I’ve depraved y’all! 😂 I wanted to post this to give y’all some good Cooper Content ™️ before I go on a three day hiatus for vacation! 🥺 Thank you all to the people who have submitted asks, I promise I am still working on them/towards getting to them! ❤️ In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy this one! @kinatanhi I hope I did your request justice! I know it’s a little tweaked from what you sent in and forgive me, I wrote this literally an hour ago at 2am because it finally came to me what I wanted to write, but seeing as it was written at 2am, y’all please forgive me if it isn’t my best work, I tried my best lol. 😭❤️
You smiled happily as you danced with your husband in your shared, quaint little kitchen, his hands coming to rest at your waist as they always did, and your arms looped around his neck. You were thankful that the producers on set of his movie, as well as his agent, allowed him to come home early in order to celebrate your birthday with you. You stood smiling up at him as you two danced- well, more like swayed, to the slow music playing from the radio. You lay your head against his chest, smiling as your eyes set on the gorgeous flowers that were lying on the kitchen counter that he brought home just for you. You smiled up at him when you caught him staring down at you with nothing but love and adoration in his gaze. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked with a playful smile, making him chuckle and flash that gorgeous smile of his that you loved so much, almost as much as his eyes that you swore you could be lost in forever. “Nothin’, just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful woman on this earth” he said, making you hum appreciatively at his cute answer. “Oh stop it, you charmer you” you replied, making him scoff in fake offense, making you giggle at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know I don’t go throwin’ that ‘round willy-nilly, little lady” he assured, making you smile wider at him as you laughed. “I know, I’m a lucky woman to call you my husband” you replied sweetly, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him as you looped your arms around his neck once more.
Those were better days, days when things were so simple, times where all you had to worry about was nothing more than how long the pie was in the oven, or how your baby was doing. It was a pleasant memory, one you’d never forget as the last time you’d seen your husband since the war. That night flooded your memories each time you’d lay down to close your sunken in eyes, they were the only thing about you now that remained as human as they were back before you became a ghoul. You swore to yourself that you’d find him one day, swore that you would kill the bastards that started all this, that took your baby girl away from you before she had a chance at a good life and separated you from your husband. You prayed each and every night that he was still out there, still alive somewhere, roaming the wastelands like you were. You knew it was doubtful at best, maybe it was better if he wasn’t alive to live through the shit you have, to see the way you look, but one could only hope for the better things. You no longer looked the same way you used to back then. Your soft, nearly perfect skin was now marred and leathery, your teeth yellowed from radiation exposure, poor diet and lack of ability to actually care for them, and your nose was now missing completely from your face, a deep hole sitting where the cartilaginous appendage once did. You wondered if he would even love you still in this state, if he’d even recognize you. You couldn’t blame him if he didn’t, you weren’t that same woman anymore physically or emotionally. Anger and vengeance had a hold on your heart like a vice death grip, you were kind to those who deserved it sure, but to those who crossed you? Those who hurt you? Let’s just say there’s a reason you’re a feared bounty hunter out here in the wastelands and not in a vault somewhere.
You were walking into Filly one late morning, coming to pay a visit with Ma June to see if there was anything she needed, any bounty she may have had for you for some extra caps. Your supply of chems to keep you from going feral was running low, you were down to your last bottle in your inhaler, and in desperate need of more. As you strode into town, you pulled your bandana up over your nose, effectively covering your face below your eyes, your large hat casting a shadow on the rest. You weaved your way through the vendors as they were trying to shove goods at you and anyone who was behind or around you. As you waded though, your ears caught the sound of a deep, southern accent that sounded awfully familiar to you. “I ain’t interested unless you got RadAway” he spoke harshly to the vendor haggling him, and you had to do a double take. He sounded just like your husband. You turned in the hopes to place a body to the voice but by the time you could, he was already lost into the crowd, impossible to find amongst the sea of people now that he wasn’t speaking to anyone anymore.
You huffed to yourself, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things, or maybe you were just plain out delusional at this rate. It wouldn’t shock you, between the years of radiation exposure, radiation sickness, and everything in between, you wouldn’t be shocked to find out you’d gone mad. However you wanted ever so badly for it to have been him that was speaking. To run up to him, arms outstretched, tears down your face but a happy smile as you called his name. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t even find the man attached to the voice anymore so why make a fool and draw attention to yourself. No one took kindly to ghouls. So with a heavy heart, you pushed on, making it to the doorstep of Ma June’s shop when you heard him again. “50 caps? That’s just plain ridiculous. 30, take it or leave it” he bartered, making you turn around again, only this time you caught him. You spotted a man that was tall, around the same height as your husband, clad in a wild western style cowboy outfit. You thought it was familiar, from the hat all the way down to the boots, it reminded you of him but a lot of people out here in the wastes wore Wild West themed clothes, deeming themselves cowboys and cowgirls of the wild wastelands. You wished he would turn around, you needed to see his face, hell just his eyes would be enough to sate the curiosity that was eating away at you. You’d forever recognize those eyes, they were so unique, so him. So beneath the shade you stood, observing him from a distance to be safe. That was until Ma June saw you standing there through the window of her shop, and she had a job for you that was important so she couldn’t wait for you to be done with whatever it was your were doing before she drug you inside. “What are you standin’ around out here for? I got a job for you!” She exclaimed, grabbing you and pulling you inside right as the man turned to walk away. You groaned in frustration as your only chance at an answer was stolen from you, but little did you know that your commotion made him stop to watch curiously as you went inside. Something about that dress you were wearing looked awful familiar to him but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he just kept walking.
As the next couple of days passed by, the curiosity was absolutely eating away at your mind. You wondered if you were on the brink of going feral with how your thoughts were screaming that it could have been him. You wished she would have waited until you could have gotten a better look at him than just his back and his clothes, though they felt familiar, akin to something he would have worn on the set to his movies, you just couldn’t be sure. So you continued on, traveling with a random person’s head in your bag, wrapped up in an old T-shirt that was soaked through with blood now as you were on your way back from your bounty for Ma June. It was a particularly hot day outside, one of those days where no matter how much water drank, you just couldn’t keep the heat away or the dehydration at bay. So as you sucked down the last of your water in your canteen, you did your best to stave off the coughing fit that was bubbling in the back of your throat like a horrible itch you just could never scratch. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t enough, and seeing as you hit your inhaler for the last of your supply yesterday, you were shit out of luck. Damn it, you were so close too, you felt it. You couldn’t go like this, not without finding him, not without avenging your child and going after those Vault-Tec bastards that stole her and your husband from you. “Damn it!” You choked out as you clutched your chest, your coughing fit sending you to your knees in the sand where you laid in the hopes that it would let up sometime soon and you could continue moving. This couldn’t be the end for you, it just couldn’t be. You wouldn’t let it.
As you laid there, throat burning as you were hacking up your lungs, you saw a figure walking along the horizon in the distance. You wondered if maybe this was what they spoke of when people said their loved ones come and take them away right before they pass, or maybe it was just another hallucination, all you knew is that they were coming closer and closer to you. You reached for your gun with all the strength you could offer through your coughing fit and weakened state, unsure of whether they were a raider or someone with just plain ill intention. As they drew closer, you looked up to see another ghoul stabbing before you, his cowboy hat casting a slight shade over his face but even through the tears in your vision you could see his eyes. They were gorgeous, they looked just like how you remember your husband’s looked the last time you had a chance to look into them, making you look him over but it was so hard to tell. He was a man who had succumbed to the same fate you did, leathery skin, no nose, ruined ears, but his eyes…god they were so familiar. You saw him cock his head while looking at you, investigating your features, you could tell there was something about you that he was intrigued with.
“I feel your pain there, sister” he said, that southern drawl coming out sounding just like him, and god how it made your heart ache. He bent down to see you better, taking a better look at you. “I’ll be damned if somethin’ ‘bout you ain’t familiar though” he said, making you look up at him, and in that moment as he looked into your eyes, he could have sworn it was you, his long lost wife. He held hope it his heart, but it was a cruel world out here, he couldn’t be sure. “Your eyes, they look a lot like my wife’s did” he said, and you took that as your chance to see if it was really him. “C-Coo…per…?” You rasped out the best you could, needing to know if it was really him, needing to know if he was alive or if you were just going crazy. His eyes went wide for a moment before reaching for his gun, making your heart jump in your chest with anxiety. “How do you know my name?” He asked coldly, his eyes looking angrily upon you and it made your heart wrench in your chest but beat fast all the same to know it was him. “Tell me! How do you know my name?” He said angrily, making you raise your hands up to show you weren’t dangerous, you cursed your inability to speak properly or else you’d have answered his question already. “Be..cause…we were…Mar…ried” you rasped out once more, showing him your wedding ring that he bought you that rested on your ring finger, making him soften up for just a moment. “After two hundred years… could it really be?” he asked softly to himself in disbelief, but once again, he reminded himself that this world was a cruel place where people stoop to things lower than they ever did before. To him, you could have been anyone, maybe no more than a random stranger who pick pocketed that precious ring off of his wife, a total stranger playing as his beloved to get to his weakness. He pointed his gun at you once more, making tears come to your eyes even more now, had you said something wrong? Why was he mad at you? You hadn’t left on bad terms last you remember, but then again it’s hard to remember as far back as two centuries. “How do I know, huh?” He asked aggressively, and you figured it was a valid worry, you knew how awful this world was now, you couldn’t blame him for needing the reassurance. He needed to be sure it was truly you. “How do I know it’s really you?” He asked, waiting for you to stop coughing long enough to give him an answer. “What’s…that look…for?” You asked, something you always asked him when he stared at you in awe, or when he looked at you right before you two went to bed, it was like your signature phrase. You weakly removed the bandana covering your face, trying your best to show him any bit of your features left that you could use to show him it was really you. “It’s me…Coop. Y/N…” you rasped as saliva began to well in your mouth at the sight of him, slowly losing control over yourself as time passed. He’d never dropped his gun so fast, or fell to his knees so quick in his entire life than in that moment, the only other time was the moment he found out you were pregnant with his child, dropping to his knees to kiss your belly and place his hands on it excitedly. “Oh my god…Y/N” he said in utter shock and disbelief that you were here, you were alive. You were a ghoul now which hurt him to know you suffered the same pain as him, but you were alive and that’s what mattered most to him, finally having found you after all the years spent hoping you were still alive out here.
“Here baby, here, hold on. I gotchya” he said, quickly grabbing his inhaler with a vial of the chems you’d run out of last night, never needing it more than in this moment to keep you from turning feral on him. He pressed it to your lips, pushing the plunger on it to get the chems in your system. You inhaled it like a breath of fresh cool air, sending you coughing once more but that itch was slowly fading away, you could breathe again. You looked up at him as you laid there weakly, your head in his lap. “My hero” you said weakly, trying to be funny but he was too caught up in looking into your eyes, getting himself to believe what was right in front of him. “Two centuries I’ve spent looking for you…” you said, your eyes scanning him and his features to assure yourself too that this was real, that he really was sitting here before you, alive and well. Or as well as one could be as a ghoul in the wastelands. You smiled as you teared up, seeing the tears in his eyes as he looked down at you, pulling you up and into a hug. “Oh god…I can’t believe you’re alive” he said, hugging you tight and you did the same, burying your face into his shoulder. “I could say the same to you. I always knew you were stubborn, too stubborn to go out the way the rest of the world did” you said, making him chuckle as stray tears ran down your marred cheeks. “I’ve been dreaming of this day…dreaming of the day I’d get to see you and B/N again…” he said, making you grip his duster as the tears flooded down your face even more when he said your baby girl’s name. “Cooper…” you said, making him pull away from you but you weren’t far, he made sure of it. “She…she didn’t make it, honey…I’m so sorry. I tried everything, believe me I did, but it was too late…” you said, making his heart absolutely break in his chest knowing his baby was gone and that he would never have the chance to see her again.
“What was she like? She was so young when it all happened” He asked, holding your hands in his as you two shared in this moment together. You smiled as your hand cupped his cheek softly, your thumb rubbing along his skin that shared the same texture as your own. “Just like her daddy. She had your gorgeous eyes, your beautiful smile and that same stubborn attitude” you said through a laugh, making him chuckle with you as his hand came to hold the back of yours as it touched him. He missed your loving touch, and that beautiful smile that he swore could light up even the darkest rooms. He could hardly believe that you’d still even touch or speak to him now, with the way he looked. He knew you likely held a sympathy for it, knowing all too well yourself what it was like but the fact that you weren’t scared or hateful like others were towards him for it. “She was smart, funny, kind…she was daddy’s baby girl. You’d have loved that about her. It was like a little slice of you was there in her, keeping me going. She gave me hope when it felt like there wasn’t any left in this world to hold onto” you said, seeing a few stray tears stream down his cheeks as you spoke of her. His stomach was in knots, his heart filled with anger and pain to know the wastelands claimed one of his own. “I wish I coulda been there, for both of you. Maybe she’d be here if I was” he said somberly, guilt lacing his tone as he leaned his forehead against yours, not caring if your hats would come off. He needed this, he needed you. “Hey, don’t blame yourself for what happened, you had nothing to do with it. It’s those vile people at Vault-Tec who did this. They took our baby, not you. Don’t you ever think this is your fault” you assured him, holding him close to you as he expressed the most emotion he’s felt in nigh on two centuries.
“We made it pretty good all things considered, held our own well for ten years. I taught her how to use a gun when she turned eight to keep her safe should anything happen to me, did everything in my power to keep her safe, fed and hydrated even on the hard days where supplies were sparse” you explained. “The radiation just became too much for her little body to handle. She was ten years old, I could hardly believe it. It was like I woke up one day and she wasn’t a baby anymore, our little girl had just grown up so fast” you said, remembering those days as tears clouded your vision, streaming down your cheeks like small rivers, watching the droplets fall into the sand beneath you. “I’m sorry Cooper, I’m so sorry…” you apologized, making him hold you tight and hush you as you did. “I shoulda been better…if I was better maybe she’d still be here now” you said, taking the blame for something you knew you had no control over, but it left you guilty all the same. “Shh, don’t go thinkin’ like that. I’d say from the sounds of it, ya did a damn fine job managin’ that long out in this shit hole just the two of you. You always were a great mom, and an equally great wife” he said, making you sniffle as you smiled at him at that reassurance. “I did all I could, there was hell to pay for anyone who stood in my way, that’s for sure” you said, making him chuckle because that was exactly how you were before the war too. You always wanted what was best for your family, and you were willing to go great lengths to keep your husband and child happy. “I know you said you been lookin’ for me for a long time…but I ain’t the same man I was back then” he started. “But I got a feelin’ you ain’t exactly the same woman anymore either, so maybe we can still work this out, you and me” he said, making you chuckle. “No, I’m not. And if that means you don’t love me anymore I-“ you spoke but you were cut off by the feel of his lips against your own. They were thinner now, dry and marred by radiation just like yours were, but you could still feel the passion behind it, the love in it. No amount of radiation could ever take that away. “You lettin’ all the radiation get to that brain of yours? Of course I still love you. I lost ya once, I ain’t losin’ you again, that’s for damn sure” he said, making you laugh as more tears fell, only these ones were happier ones now. You squeezed his hand that was in your own as your heart raced in your chest. “You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear, Coop” you replied, kissing him once more with all the passion two hundred years of separation could hold behind it. “I love you, and I’ve missed you so damn much” you said, pressing your foreheads together once more as you fought the tears that began to turn into a sob. “I love you too darlin’, missed you like crazy. The world ain’t been the same without you” he said, making you sniffle as you felt the same way. “And if you’ll still have me, I’d like to make that a world of the past” he added, making you chuckle tearfully. “Of course I will” you said, allowing his heart to rest assured that you were still his girl, making him smile as he looked down at you, his thumb rubbing along your cheek to wipe away your tears.
You smiled back up at him, your hand coming to the back of his as you remembered the moment from your birthday again all those years ago, slow dancing in the kitchen with him. “What’s that look for, hmm?”You asked, just like you did that day, making him grin as he thought of the right words to say. “Nothin’ just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful person on this earth” he replied, making you chuckle. It was just what you’d been needing to hear all this time. “And how lucky I am to have her back in my arms where she belongs” he added, making you giggle before kissing you once more. Desert be damned, Cooper had his wife back after so long spent searching for her, and he was going to make damn sure she knew how much he missed her all these years.
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Hellllo! Could you possibly write a ploy! marauders x reader who just got a new piercing? Like maybe they keep accidentally hitting it and like to help clean it :))
"fresh wounds"
eeeee!! my first ask, thank you so much lovely! hope you enjoy <3
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You yelped a little as Sirius brushed your hair back, before leaning forward to press a butterfly kiss to your ear, right above one of your brand new piercings.
“Sorry Dove, didn’t mean to snag it,”
“S’alright Sirius, I know.”
“Are you torturing my poor, healing darling?” James accused, squeezing your hand and he frowned from his place sat in front of you. Even if you couldn't see it, you could practically feel Sirius roll his eyes.
"They're fine, Prongs," he drawled, continuing his expert work of plaiting your hair, "A helix piercing isn't going to kill 'em."
James's frown only deepened before he pressed his forehead against yours, whispering conspiratorially, "You'll tell me if he's being too rough. Just 'cause he's got a million piercings and twice as many infections, doesn't mean you have to as well."
You giggled, whispering a quiet, "I will," as Sirius scowled.
"I heard that, you prick. I'll have you know, only one of my piercings has been infected-"
At this James gasped, pulling you fully away from Sirius and into his arms, staring at him in scandal. "So, you ARE diseased! You're going to ruin their healing process-"
"No, I'm not, you idiot-"
"Yes, you are-"
"Alright, leave it you two."
You giggled as Remus pulled you to your feet while simultaneously ending the boys' playful spat. He tucked a few loose pieces of hair behind your ears, inspecting the tops which were now adorned with little silver balls. He hummed, stroking his thumbs across your cheekbones as he held your face.
"Do they hurt, Dove?"
"Not more than normal," You smiled, melting into his warm presence, "They'll be fully healed soon enough."
"That's good. They look a little red, maybe we should clean them before we leave?"
"I helped them clean them before I did their hair," Sirius replied, standing as well to snag an arm around your waist and press yet another kiss to your ear. "Saline and all, no need to worry. Not to mention they won't stop twisting 'em."
Remus relaxed and smiled at you, softly saying, "That's alright then."
This in turn made you grin and flush slightly, going to tuck your hair behind your ear again. However, you winced as you caught the piercing, cupping your ear and hissing at the rush of pain. This made James shoot to his feet, grabbing your wrist and searching your face.
"Are you okay?' He asked, worry pooling in his eyes as you smiled again, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. When you leaned back, he seemed a little dazed, making you giggle as you stroked his cheek.
"I'm perfectly alright, Jamie. 'Specially when I've got you lot to take care of me."
This made him grin, pressing a fast kiss to your lips, before sharing very sweet ones with Remus and Sirius as well. Sirius smirked a little, chasing James's lips as he pulled back. He then pressed a teasing kiss to Sirius's nose before strutting towards the door, his smile blinding.
"You're so right, Dovey. Nothing's going to happen to you with us around, that's for sure."
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hope this is good lovely!! plus, gave me a few ideas for some other drabbles, so thank you so much lol
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derangedanomaly · 19 hours
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okay okay weird request, and slightly embarrassing to ask for, but no one does it
A fluff headcanon with Dust, Horror, Killer, Nightmare, and possibly Error, where the reader is a really REALLY short adult. Im talking like so much shorter and smaller then the guys that it’s actually kinda crazy?? like, you can still tell their an adult, but their just really short.
i have a love for height differences, especially with the boys. i have a different type of love towards these skeletons ❤️
i won’t be mad if you don’t do this, and im really sorry if this request is annoying, or give you second hand embarrassment, or if your not taking requests right now 😭
I actually think that this is a pretty cute request! I have a thing for height difference... So I might've made this a little spicy... Hope you'll enjoy!
Warning: A lil spicy
MASTERLIST
BAD SANSES X EXTRA SHORT READER (+Error)
Nightmare:
He's so smug.
He's a little shocked about your height... How can you be so small??
He's honestly such a bully.. he's literally bullying you because of your height 😭
He'll literally use your height to his own benefit (somehow)
He's manipulating his way into your heart fr.
You'd have to show him, that your fighting are GOD TIER, for him to actually treat you... Somewhat normally.
Likes to wrap his tentacles around you.. he just likes how big they are compared to you. (SIZE KINK 😦)
Killer:
He's definitely one of those people that yell "LMAO, LOL" out loud. So this'll pretty much be his first reaction.
He's the shortest of the Bad Sanses, so having someone that's SHORTER than him around?? A blessing frfr.
He'll constantly use flirting puns on you, that involve your height.
"The best part about being this tall, is how easy it is to see cute people like you in the crowd."
Overall, thinks your height difference is cute.
He'll definitely give you piggy back rides, if you ask for them.
He loves looking down at you....and he also likes you looking up at him.... (Kink check?)
Dust:
He's kinda surprised at your height.. he studied humans awhile back, and he doesn't understand how you're so short.
He probably won't joke about your height. But he will snicker when others say something. (He just can't help it lmao)
He doesn't have much thoughts on your height, will never really fully mention it either.
Will treat you as if there wasn't ANY height difference between you two.
But he does have a growing need to.......... manhandle you.
Horror:
He's used to people being shorter than him. So it doesn't faze him.
He probably won't even know that it's uncommon for human adults to be this small.
At first, he'd kinda avoid you... because he's afraid of accidentally hurting you, but after you establish that you're ok, and can hold on your own, he'd be stuck to you like a glue.
He wants to help you as much as he can!
He also likes praise.. so he'd get really excited when you tell him he's a good boy for helping you reach for something.
He likes to carry you around on his shoulders. :)
Error:
He can't help but smile sweetly at you when he notices your height difference.
He loves romance, so he'd probably find it actually pretty romantic that you're shorter than him.
Likes to staré at you. A lot.
Literally analyzing you and everything lmao.
You don't even have to ask him for help, he already knows you need it before you ask.
Likes to wrap you in his strings and bring you along wherever.
Bondage kink?
He gets a little giddy, seeing your height difference.
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